"J-ji, can I go downstairs now?" Mahi asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks burning a deep crimson under Riyansh's intense gaze. The possessiveness he radiated was overwhelming, making her shy and flustered. "I....need to   make breakfast…"

Riyansh's hand, which had been gently stroking her waist, continued its slow, deliberate path. With his other hand, he tenderly brushed away the stray strands of hair that fell across her face like a curtain, shielding her blushing cheeks from his view. "Mahi," he said, his voice a low rumble, "from today onwards, you don't need to do any household chores. Not a single one."