CHAPTER 2 : THERE MINUTES LATE, A LIFETIME LOST

The glass walls of Arjit Kumar's cabin reflected the Mumbai skyline, the city alive with its endless rhythm. Inside, however, the world slowed. The hum of phones and chatter outside faded into silence. Here, in the sanctum of his empire, only one person could break through his armor.

The door opened.

Angelina stepped in, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She carried no files today - only herself, her presence filling the room with warmth. Her hair framed her face, her eyes glimmered with mischief. She was three minutes late.

Arjit looked up from his desk, his gaze sharp but softened by familiarity.

" You are late," he said, his voice low, but not with anger - more like a ritual between them.

Angelina tilted her head, lips curving into a smile.

" Three minutes," she teased. " Not three hours."

He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, pretending to be stern.

" In my world, three minutes is a lifetime."

She walked closer, her steps deliberate, her smile daring.

" Then I suppose I owe you lifetime, Mr Kumar."

Her words lingered, playful yet heavy with meaning. She stopped in front of his desk, resting her hands on the polished wood. Their eyes locked, the air charged with something far deeper than business.

Arjit rose from his chair, circling the desk until he stood before her. His hand brushed against hers, not commanding, not demanding - just asking.

" You know," he murmured, his voice dropping," when you enter this cabin, the empire disappears. It's just you and me".

Angelina's smile softened. And yet you still count the minutes.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Because every minute without you feels like a lifetime."

Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze.

" Flirtation doesn't suit a CEO."

"Perhaps," he whispered," but it suits as a Husband."

The office outside was bustling, but inside the cabin, silence wrapped around them. No assistants, no investors, no children - just the two of them. Arjit's hand slid to her waist, pulling her gently closer. She laughed softly, resting her forehead against his chest.

" You are impossible," she said.

" And you," he replied, pressing a kiss to her hair,"are mine."

They stood there, wrapped in each other, the city lights flickering beyond the glass. For once, the empire could wait.

Later that evening, the Kumar Mansion glowed under the soft light of chandeliers. The children were away - Aarav at coding class, Meera at her workshop, Ishaan with his grandparents. The house, usually alive with laughter and chaos, was quiet.

Angelina moved through the living room, her sari flowing like silk against the marble floor. She carried a tray with two cups of chai, steam curling into the air. Arjit sat on the sofa, his tie loosened, his posture relaxed in a way only she could coax out of him.

She placed the tray down, handling him a cup. " Your empire runs on chai more than contracts," she teased. He smirked, taking a sip. " And you more than chai."

She settled beside him, their shoulders brushing. The silence was comfortable, intimate. He reached to her hand, intertwining their fingers.

" You know," he said softly, "I used to think power was everything. That dominance kept the world in order. But then you walked in - three minutes late - and everything changed."

Angelina turned to him, her eyes shimmering. " And now?"

"Now," he whispered, brushing his thumb across her knuckles," I count lifetimes in minutes with you."

They moved to the balcony, the garden below bathed in moonlight. The air was cool, carrying the scent of jasmine. Arjit wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close as they gazed at the stars.

"Do you wonder," Angelina asked, resting her head on his shoulder, "What life would be if we weren't us? If you weren't the CEO, if I weren't your secretary?"

Arjit chuckled softly. " If I weren't the CEO, I'd still find you. Even if you were three minutes late to destiny."

She laughed, the sound is light and melodic. "You are getting better at this flirting thing."

He kissed her temple. " Practice. With you as my only audience."

Inside, the dinning table was set with simplicity - parathas, dal, and mango pickle. No grand feasts, no investors' dinners. Just them. They ate slowly, savoring not just the food but the quiet intimacy.

Angelina teased him for tearing the paratha unevenly. He teased her for adding too much pickle. They laughed, their voices echoing through the empty Mansion.

After dinner, they lingered in the study. Papers lay forgotten as Arjit pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her. She rested against him, her fingers tracing patterns on his shirt.

"You know," she whispered," the children will be home soon. We should enjoy this silence while it lasts."

Arjit smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. " Silence is overrated. I prefer your voice."

The night deepened. In their bedroom, the world outside ceased to exit. The empire, the boardroom - all faded.

It was just Arjit and Angelina, husband and wife, lovers bound by more than power.

They kissed, slow and lingering, sealing promises not in contracts but in love.

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