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******

"Let me see too," Dhriti mumbled, peeping inside the kitchen.

"Shhh..." Namit shushed her to be quiet and pulled her closer to him, from where she could peep inside easily without getting caught.

"Tell me I am not hallucinating," Dhruv said, and then gaped at the scene unfolding in front of him. He rubbed his eyes, but whatever he was seeing didn't vanish because it was real and not some kind of hoax.

"At this point, I feel we all are hallucinating," Saavi mumbled innocently, and then smiled.

Both Dhruv and Namit had their wives stand on their feet so that they could sneak a look inside Kiaan's kitchen from the window. All four of them were in the garden of the new mansion, watching Kiaan cooking.

Kiaan's cooking was a rare sight. 

They had only always heard him bicker over kitchen duties. Even though they had seen him helping Saavi and Dhriti if needed, no one had ever encountered him actually preparing a meal. But this time the scene was different.

Kiaan was shirtless, only wearing track pants, and was busy chopping vegetables neatly. From what the two couples could see, they noticed he was preparing sandwiches along with something more, which wasn't obvious to them.

He was stirring something in the pan, the aroma of the freshly sauteed veggies reaching the nostrils of the four, and they felt hungry now, even when they just had their breakfast.

Kiaan navigated through the kitchen, like he was trained for it. Some of the packed carton boxes were still lying on the kitchen floor in one corner, and Kiaan began unpacking them, pulled some glass containers out, and put them near the sink to wash.

They all watched him wash the containers delicately. All of a sudden, Kiaan turned off the tap, put the containers aside, and, after turning off the gas, he walked out of the kitchen.

Dhruv and Namit shared a curious glance, and so did Dhriti and Saavi.

Then they all heard someone clearing their throat from behind them.

"Care to explain what exactly you guys are doing here?" 

A deep voice reached them, but neither of them cared to notice much.

Though Namit replied, not looking at this stranger, "A hot neighbour just moved in, and we are watching him. The fictional world just turned real."

"Says the man who plays with flour with his wife in the kitchen," the same voice came. 

This time, all four of them realized where Kiaan had gone suddenly. He was standing behind them, and that deep voice belonged to him.

The girls instantly got off their husbands' feet and turned around, and so did Namit and Dhruv.

"Hey..."

"Hi..."

Both Dhriti and Saavi murmured a soft greeting to Kiian, holding their husbands' arms, smiling sheepishly at him.

"What are you doing here?" Namit asked defensively.

"This is my place, my garden. I can be wherever I want to be. The real question is, what are you guys doing here?"

Everyone looked at Dhruv now, pushing him forward with their gazes. As always, Dhruv had to step up to pull them out of the mess.

"Morning walk..." 

But Dhruv messed up this time with his response. All four of them were well-dressed, definitely didn't look like they were going for a walk. 

Kiaan eyed them suspiciously, from top to bottom, and asked, "You guys are walking in those clothes?"

Dhruv realized the blunder but instantly masked it with, "Yeah, what's wrong with our clothes? We can walk in whatever clothes we want to."

"All of you? Together?"

Kiaan crossed his arms now, staring at them skeptically. He knew what they were there for. It was evident enough, and that irked Kiaan. Firstly, because he was trying every possible way to win Simran's heart, and he knew if these people kept getting involved, Simran would keep ignoring him.

"It's a nice morning," Saavi replied, holding an innocent smile.

Kiaan sighed, exasperatedly. He shook his head at them, narrowed his eyes, and asked firmly, "Tell me what exactly you all are here for?"

"We just wanted to see, Simi, where is she?" Dhriti apparently made sense with her words, using Simran as their shield.

"My wife is getting ready for work. Don't worry, she is doing perfectly fine and is taken care of perfectly. I am here for her."

"No worries, we will talk to her in the evening. Come on, baby," Namit said, steering Dhriti away with him. Dhruv and Saavi walked along with them.

As the two couples made their way back, something clicked in Kiaan's mind. He knew they wouldn't stop meddling, and he couldn't let them intervene anymore, so he stopped them, "Wait!"

All of them stopped, wondering what it was now.

"Stop intervening, you all. In case you guys have got some memory issues, let me rehash. Simran and I are newlyweds, and we don't get enough time with each other already because of our hectic schedule. Stop meddling in our private moments, stop intruding in our romance."

"I don't want any of you finding us in a compromising position, which, by the way, you know is frequent between a couple. You guys know better, don't you all?"

Everyone's jaws dropped to the ground because Kiaan openly warned them like that and expressed himself in a way he never did before. That warning blew their minds. 

Kiaan walked away first, and they kept staring at his fading back, processing the shock and wondering, Was he the same Kiaan?

******

Simran, when she got to the breakfast table, found it decorated with flowers and delicious sandwiches, beetroot ginger juice she liked, and a coconut pudding too, along with some healthy pasta on the side, stacked in the middle of the table.

Kiaan had been waiting for her all this time. He had planned to drop her off at her academy, then take her out on a date in the evening, and clear the air between them, finally. 

He had realized the importance of lucid conversation, and he didn't want any more misunderstandings or issues between them. For once, he really wanted to have the life of that normal couple Simran always wished for.

But Simran was confused. It wasn't her fault, though. 

Kiaan's actions in the past had made her like that. She used to be clear about what she wanted in the past, but now, after living with Kiaan and dealing with him, she needed some time to process everything.

However, that didn't mean she wanted to be quiet while processing everything. She had already made her minions understand their next mission, who were busy with that task.

Simran saw the table decorated with a delectable breakfast. She was tempted to fill herself up with that delicacy, but then that would have been unfair, considering what her two fur babies were already doing. 

So, she averted her gaze and didn't even look up at Kiaan, who stood there, waiting for her to say something, just anything. Simran just walked out of the house, leaving her husband longing to even hear her voice.

Dhruv's car arrived in front of Kiaan's place in a minute, and Simran settled in the backseat. Dhruv was taking both Saavi and Simran to their respective workplaces before he would head to his office.

Kiaan's warning was just thrown under the bus, but he simply smiled, surprisingly. 

If everyone wanted to play nasty, he decided to play nastier. If a warning didn't work, he was going to make sure his action made them regret.

******

Kiaan was angry, very frustrated.

Simran left for the academy on an empty stomach, and not only that, she went with Dhruv, ignoring him.

He came out freshly showered, consistently thinking about his wife, worrying about her health, and her childishness in not speaking with him. Just as he walked into the walk-in closet to get his clothes, the sight he saw fueled his rage. The walk-in closet didn't have his clothes except for a few. And whatever was left, they weren't in a state to wear.

Why?

Well, Biscuit and Popcorn were there to take revenge on their mother's account. They didn't even have to be trained; they just knew what they had to do. Kiaan's closet was their new home now.

Biscuit had peed on one of his shirts, and Popcorn was busy chewing his pants. They didn't just ruin one cloth, or two or three, but as many as they could.

There were some shirts that were actually torn by a pair of scissors. Now, that wasn't rocket science for Kiaan to guess who did it. Because Popcorn and Biscuit wouldn't do it for sure.

Surprisingly, Kiaan's anger vanished. He was smiling, looking at the pieces of those torn clothes. His anger bubbled out of him, poofed in thin air, and a smirk took its place.

"You can pretend all you want, my yellow; you still care a lot," he mumbled to himself.

And that...that was more than enough for Kiaan to take one breath of relief he had been struggling to take. He was assured his wife cared enough to go this far and tear apart his clothes in anger, and he was all okay.

He squatted down closer to where Popcorn and Biscuit were, busy chewing his white shirt. Biscuit eyed him, and Popcorn gave him a soft whistle.

"I hope you both have been making sure my yellow has been doing fine these three years."

Unlike his character, he petted them, stroked their heads, and recalled the chilly night he had rescued the two and left them in front of Simran's place, being aware she would never turn her back on them.

He couldn't be with Simran, but he had made sure she wasn't alone either. 

Simran wouldn't have found Biscuit and Popcorn if not for Kiaan. It was Kiaan who rescued them from a heartless middle-aged couple, carried them with him in his car, holding them closer to his chest, making sure they were getting the needed warmth.

And when he kept them near the trash can in front of Simran's apartment, he stood at a distance watching them, guarding them, and didn't leave until Simran took them inside with her.

From a distance, he had murmured,' Merry Christmas, firefly,' watching her with the same longing he had been carrying in his heart for years.

Biscuit licked Kiaan's palm while he was stroking her, and Popcorn whistled once more, hopping like a happy kid. Kiaan smiled at the two before he got up. He now had another task at hand: to find clothes for himself.

He called Enzo to borrow his clothes eventually. And when he finally got a pair that turned out to be a little shorter than his height, he still wore them to the office. 

After all, what choice did he have?

******

Kiaan had to inspect some construction sites for the upcoming projects and not actually visit his workplace. 

Though the people there were fewer compared to his office, everyone eyed him weirdly because the man who was always uptight was wearing clothes shorter than his height, looking uncomfortable, as if he was forced to wear them and as if the clothes were struggling around his body, trying to breathe.

But work was always Kiaan's priority, so he didn't ditch that even if he had to face some embarrassment. He was enduring it all, not because he had patience, but because it was his wife's punishment for him. He could deal with that; it's not like he was all saint, and he hadn't hurt her, so he knew he deserved that.

While inspecting the site carefully, all of a sudden, his phone rang. It was Simran.

"Kiaan..." Simran whimpered over the call, as if she was in tremendous pain. Kiaan's heartbeat dropped, and his grip on his phone tightened.

"Where are you?"

"Arjun's law firm."

He didn't need more information; all he replied was, "I am coming". 

He left the site in a hurryand drove to Arjun's law firm, exceeding the speed limit. He was lucky he didn't get caught by anyone because of the unusual speed limit, and even if he had, he still wouldn't have stopped. Because it was a matter of his wife, his priority.

He reached Arjun's law firm in no time and then ran to his cabin. He pushed the door open, looking for his wife.

"Firefly..." He called.

Kiaan saw Simran sitting on a chair opposite Arjun. He sprinted to her, knelt on the floor, and held her hands.

Simran was stunned as she took in her husband's appearance. The always uptight Beast was wearing clothes shorter than his size, inspecting her for any injury. Instead of fury, his entire body was taut with concern for her. 

His shirt's fabric was stretching over his muscular arms, as if it would tear open any time now. The state of his pants was no different. It ended above his ankles, and his socks were visible, making him look funnier. 

Simran had thought she would laugh or mock him, but couldn't when she noticed him inspecting her arms, her face, her feet, to check for a bruise. Kiaan looked distressed, as if he was on the verge of losing something really important.

Simran sat there speechless, her body stiffened in shock. 

Arjun was there too, watching his friend lose himself in love, realizing his friend had reached a point from where navigating ahead wasn't going to be easy. Because falling in love was one thing, and keeping it alive, honoring that love, staying true to it was another. 

The path ahead was going to be arduous, even more difficult than taking someone's life. 

"Where are you hurt?" Kiaan asked softly. 

Simran's heart skipped a beat; her eyes literally teared. She was clueless herself as to why she was in tears.

What is happening with me? 

Why is my heart aching like it was broken into innumerable tears?

Why do I feel as if if this man ever shed one single tear, it would ruin me in the worst possible way?

Arjun wanted to give them space, but he knew that one move and their focus would drift to him, which he didn't want, so he just focused on a case file. 

He could feel the pain they both carried in their hearts. He got unsettled with that fact. He knew there was something Kiaan was hiding, and even when he hated prying into his friend's life, he decided to get to the bottom of it, because knowing his friend well, he was aware he would fight a war alone if needed, and that was something Arjun was not in favour of.

"Tell me, fire, where are you hurt?" Kiaan's voice turned softer, and a tear slipped from Simran's eye, which Kiaan wiped off instantly. His own heart was breaking at his wife's state.

Simran blinked away the upcoming tears, not letting them fall out, and pointed her finger to her heart and said, "Here..."

This was supposed to be a dramatic response, to tease him, but it came out as a whisper, and it was the truth. 

"Really?" He kissed her palms, smiling sadly at her.

Simran forgot to breathe; her heartbeat grew erratic, and goosebumps awoke from their deep slumber. 

Kiaan carried warmth for her; his eyes were clouded with adoration for her, and she was overwhelmed by the way his words came out softly, by how gently he touched her, and by the calm, loving smile he had for her.

She averted her gaze, failing to keep herself sane. This wasn't why she had called him there while pretending to be hurt, yet she couldn't help but feel that pain in her heart. She eventually composed herself and then pulled her hands out of Kiaan's grasp, while her previous mood to annoy Kiaan surfaced.

"We have been married for a month, and you haven't done the most important thing, so my heart hurts." 

She pouted, looking all innocent, making puppy eyes at him.

"What do you want? What do I need to do?"

If she asked to name his property in her name, he would do it; if she asked to carve his heart out and hand it to her, he would have handed her the dagger and would have smiled while she cut him open. He was ready for everything.

Simran patted the padded leather chair's seat beside her. Kiaan got up and sat on it, watching her with worry.

"You haven't named our kids after you..." She said once he was on the chair. 

"Kids?"

Kiaan was confused, trying to rattle his brain over what kids she was talking about. They hadn't even been intimate that way for her to be pregnant. He just watched her incredulously as if she had grown two horns, while she smiled mischievously.

Just then, Arjun, who was now suppressing a laugh, slid a folder of documents towards Kiaan.

Kiaan flipped through the pages, reading everything quickly, only for him to be baffled. He opened his mouth to say something, but words just didn't come out. He gave one more look at Simran and found her acting all shy, tucking her hair behind her ear. She had literally turned crimson.

Kiaan shook his head, pressing his temples as he stared at the two bold names printed in ink on the paper.

Biscuit Baingan Chauhan

Popcorn Papita Chauhan

"BBC and PPC....How are the names?" Simran clasped her hands with excitement, and her eyes dazzled with mischief and happiness. 

Arjun coughed because suppressing his laugh was getting really burdensome for him now.

Kiaan glared at Arjun, who pursed his lips. After that, he glanced at his wife and stated with disbelief, "You called me here for this..." 

He was flabbergasted by the kind of crazy his wife was.

"And you knew...." He said to Arjun, giving him a pointed look.

His head was throbbing now as he kept watching Simran, who hadn't stopped giving him an innocent puppy-eyed look. 

Kiaan shouldn't have been surprised; after all, Simran talked to a skeleton, enjoyed spa days with it, so calling him there to give the pets his name shouldn't have stunned him, yet she always surpassed his expectations.

He was confused, whether to kiss her until she was out of breath, punish her for pretending to be hurt, or just do both.

"This is stupid," He murmured, deciding that his woman needed all of it, the kiss, the punishment, the torment, everyone all at once.

"Well, you never were smart to begin with," Arjun mumbled, trying to take a jibe. But Kiaan didn't take the jibe from him as Arjun's friend. He took the mockery on himself as Simran's husband, and he knew he had to shut everyone's mouth with just one hit.

Kiaan didn't sign the papers, shut the folder, and stood up. 

The moment he sprang to his feet, a tear sound echoed in the room, as if something was just torn because of a harsh pull. Heat rose to Kiaan's cheeks as he had never become a victim of a wardrobe malfunction before. Leave wardrobe malfunction, he didn't even become a victim of any malfunction.

Simran and Arjun both realized what had happened as they looked up at Kiaan. Arjun, with a suppressed laugh, and Simran, with her puppy eyes, were biting her cheeks from inside to stop herself from cackling.

Simran got up instantly, removed the silk scarf from around her neck, and extended it to Kiaan as she meekly said, "This will help."

Kiaan fumed from inside, frozen at his spot, fisting his hands. Arjun, on the other hand, couldn't help but burst out laughing when he saw Simran giving Kiaan her scarf to cover himself.

"You have done enough, Mrs.Chauhan," Kiaan seethed, rejecting her scarf. 

But Simran, being Simran, took one step closer and tied her scarf around his waist. 

"This will hide the tear, Mr. Chauhan. If you want, you can use me as a shield until we get to your car."

Arjun was now holding his stomach; his eyes teared as he looked up at staring at the ceiling, laughing like a madman, which only enraged Kiaan.

Simran blinked rapidly at her husband. She genuinely wanted to help, but ended up digging her own grave.

"No need. You stay here, name our kids. And seeing you so desperate for them, I wouldn't waste a single moment now." 

Kiaan then leaned to her ear as he whispered dangerously, "Who knows, nine months from now, you might be carrying a little version of me, whose eyes remind you of me, whose heart beats just like mine does."

Simran's eyes widened in shock at hearing him.

But when he bit her earlobe harshly, hiding it well from Arjun's eyes, who was busy laughing, Simran gasped, and shivers flew through her veins, causing her to lose her balance. 

Kiaan's arm snaked around her waist, making her stand firm. 

He was still leaning toward her ear and whispered something that not only astounded Simran but also aroused her very much.

"A soft bite of my teeth against your ear was enough to make you lose your balance... now imagine what would happen when my tongue would be buried deep in your cunt, when you are tied up, trembling, and begging me for mercy."

"There is no escaping me, Jaan. In the end, you will crawl back to me: in your husband's bed, wrapped in sheets that carry his essence, pinned beneath him, craving everything only he can give, with his marks painted all over your body while he watches you the way an artist watches his muse."

He pushed her gently on the chair so that she could come out of shock, which he had just given her with his words, removed her scarf from around his waist, and then opened his shirt to tie around his waist.

He walked out with a triumphant smile, leaving Simran breathless, red, and afraid yet on fire.

******

Kiaan sat calmly in his study, crossing one knee over the other as he leaned back in his chair. He had come straight home, postponing the rest of his site visits, because as much as Kiaan Chauhan was a workaholic, he also valued his pride and ego. Now, he couldn't parade himself in front of the world wearing torn clothes, of course.

Even though he wanted to go ballistic and thrash everything, he stayed quiet; his tool of attack this time was his phone. He had understood anger wasn't going to win Simran over; strategic moves were.

He might have bagged a beautiful mansion for his wife, which created some distance between his family and his wife, but that wasn't enough. He had to make sure his family and friends stopped meddling in their personal life, and he was going to attack his own people where it hurts the most.

******

In the evening, Dhruv excitedly brought home some art supplies for his wife that she had asked for a few days earlier.

As soon as he reached the art room where Saavi was busy painting another masterpiece, her eyes lit up. She ran to him and eagerly said, "Dhruv, I have to show you something."

She pulled his arm and jubilantly showed her stack of canvases that she had asked Dhruv to get her.

"See, Kiaan sent me these classic canvases. They are so pretty! I wonder how he got hold of them when these had been out of stock at every store?"

Dhruv understood he had overstepped a boundary he shouldn't have. His intention was pure, but now, in the same state as Kiaan, he realized how it feels when you put in efforts for that one person and someone else woos her.

His phone pinged with a text at that moment. As he checked, he found it was from Kiaan.

Kiaan -> Hope the lesson was good.

Dhruv -> Lesson learnt, asshole!

******

"Sweetheart, this weekend let's go check some cradles for our babies," Namit suggested as he put more oil in Dhriti's hair, massaging her scalp. She was positioned between his legs, scrolling her phone. And hearing about cradles, her face lit up.

"About that...I have to show you something...." She opened the chat box where Kiaan had sent her a picture and showed it to Namit.
"Kiaan sent me this picture of the cradle. He said he can have it customized, isn't it pretty?"

Dhriti admired the picture, while Namit clenched his jaw. But he didn't express his anger to his wife. He smiled and kissed her forehead. While Dhriti kept stroking the picture of the unique cradle, Namit's phone pinged with a text.

Kiaan -> Next time, think before you act

Namit -> Got your point! 🖕

******

Hredhaan and Arjun both received a text too.

Kiaan to Hredhaan -> Your fiancé might get a whiff of you following someone else. Be careful, mate.

Hredhaan -> Point noted!!

Kiaan sent some pictures of classic designer dresses to Arjun.

Kiaan to Arjun -> Heard Niti wanted some classic dress inspiration for her new designs.

Arjun -> Fuck! Understood. Now fuck off, going to impress my wife with skills no on possess.

******

Kiaan made sure he cut the cord of everyone who tried coming between him and his wife one by one, but there was still one person left. His father. 

If Ashok Chauhan hadn't dropped Simran off at the academy a day ago, things might have been different between them; Kiaan might have sorted things out, but the longer it took to settle, the messier it became.

******

"I thought we agreed upon clauses yesterday," Ashok said irritably to the investor who was fine with the clauses a day ago.

"We did. But that was yesterday," the investor replied uncomfortably.

"You are well aware I am not the man to be defied."

"Noted, Sir, but when someone trespasses on another's territory, I am not supposed to shake hands with them."

A smirk appeared on Ashok's face. He knew exactly what the investor was hinting at. The man clearly had no idea what he was talking about; he was merely reading from a script handed to him by someone even more influential than Ashok Chauhan: his own son.

Ashok's phone pinged at the exact time.

Kiaan -> The deal is already in your court; why make it tough for you?

Ashok -> Sure. You deal with your contracts. I will deal with mine.

Just then, the investor received a message.

Kiaan -> Go ahead, sign the deal.

He took a breath of relief and apologized, gulping in fear because Ashok Chauhan wasn't any less deadly either, but Ashok understood his son; after all, he would have done the same if anyone meddled in his and his wife's private affairs.

******

Kiaan silenced every obstacle in his love story, one by one. And now, there was only one hurdle left: his wife's stubborn nature. But he vowed to himself that he would conquer that too.

But whether that vow came from genuine confidence or sheer overambition, only time would tell.

******

Is silencing the obstacles enough?  🤔

Hi Lovelies,

I hope you all are doing great!! 🤗

Kiaan might have silenced every obstacle he could think of, but is winning Simran's heart that easy? 🥹

What will Simran do now? Will she plan bigger revenge? 🥹

And what about Kiaan? Ab Pant fata hai toh, badla toh lena chahiye na Kiaan ko 😂 Kya kare bechara Kiaan, Ishq mein pagal ho rakha hai vo 😂

Do share your views about the chapter. It would mean a lot to me. ❤️

P.S -> The next update will be published on next Saturday ❤️

Thanks,

Shrishtee