Not perverted, eh? He'd make sure she wouldn't turn her attention to another man.

Abhay was a selfish man. Sharing? Not in his vocabulary.

One corner of his lips tugged up in a smirk, utterly pleased with himself. He could make his adorable wife blush like a fire truck, and he lived for it.

"Just admit that you like what you see," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, husky whisper, the kind that sent a shiver down her spine. Close enough that only she could hear.

"Never!" Piya shot back, her glare sharp enough to slice through steel.

"Over my delicious body?"

He was unable to hold back his amusement when she froze for a split second.

"Yes!"

His smirk widened. That was when Piya realized—too late—that she'd fallen into his trap. Her eyes went round as she punched his arm with a vengeance.

"...!"

"You tricked me! You shameless bastard!"

"Nah-ah, darling. No takebacks." Abhay laughed before leaning in to peck her nose, shutting her up instantly.

Wait. Did he just—?

"Yes, I did," Abhay answered her unspoken question as if he could read her mind. With a dramatic sigh, he finally released her wrist and ruffled her already-messy hair.

"Go take a bath. Let's have breakfast before I leave. See you downstairs."

And just like that, he was gone—winking as he left.

Piya, still recovering from the sheer audacity of her husband, could only huff before sticking out her tongue at his retreating figure.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The scent of something warm and buttery filled the living room, curling through the air like a silent invitation.

By the time Abhay descended the stairs, Piya was already in the kitchen, flipping a pancake with the kind of ease that made him pause. She stood at the stove, hair tied up messily, wearing a plain white shirt and tight jeans—casual, effortless.

His two traitorous dogs, who had apparently decided they had a new favorite human, lounged on the floor, watching Piya as if she were a queen bestowing them with divine grace.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves while absently tugging at his tie, failing—yet again—to tie it properly.

"Just some eggs and pancakes," Piya replied, her focus still on the stove as she expertly flipped another pancake onto a plate.

Abhay arched a brow. "You can cook?"

Piya didn't even glance his way. She grabbed the eggs she had set aside earlier and cracked them into the pan, the satisfying sizzle filling the silence. With a swift motion, she whisked them gently before letting them settle into soft, golden curds.

The pancakes, stacked neatly on a plate, were fluffy and golden brown, a drizzle of syrup already pooling at the edges. The eggs, scrambled just right, glistened in the morning light. She worked quickly, plating everything with practiced efficiency before placing the dishes on the dining table.

"Done! Let's eat!" she announced, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

Abhay sat across from her, inhaling deeply.

The aroma alone was enough to make his stomach rumble.

It had been ages since he'd had a proper home-cooked breakfast. And this—this wasn't just food. This was something else entirely. It was calling to him, practically demanding to be devoured.

Piya could cook?

No. Piya could actually cook.

Forget hitting the jackpot. He'd just won the lottery.

His past experiences with pancakes had been limited to the dry, rubbery ones from hotel buffets or the overly sweet, artificial kind from diners. And eggs? Either undercooked or over-salted. But this?

This was perfection.

"Don't you like it?" Piya asked, noticing he had yet to touch his food.

Abhay snapped out of his trance and picked up his fork. Piya watched as he took the first bite, her fingers twitching slightly as he chewed—slowly, his face unreadable.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he went for a second bite.

And a third.

The pancakes were soft, airy, and just the right amount of sweet, the syrup enhancing the flavor without overpowering it. The eggs were fluffy, well-seasoned, and just creamy enough to melt in his mouth.

This wasn't just breakfast.

This was the breakfast.

Piya, who had been holding her breath, cleared her throat. "Well?"

Abhay set his fork down and leaned back, arms crossed.

Then, with all the seriousness in the world, he said, "Amazing. Simply amazing."

For a man who never handed out compliments easily, this was practically a declaration of love.

Piya's lips twitched, her cheeks warming despite herself. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. Nope. Not today.

Instead, she speared a piece of her pancake and popped it into her mouth, raising a brow at him.

"Good. Maybe now you'll stop looking at me like you just uncovered a national treasure."

Abhay smirked.

Too late for that.