Her breath caught in her throat. His words hung in the air, raw, trembling, almost vulnerable.

"Jaan… can I kiss you?"

For a moment, she couldn’t respond. Her lips parted, her eyes blinked fast, trying to register what just happened. Ekaksh Vidyut Rathore—the man who never bowed, who commanded men with silence, who had the world at his feet—was now standing in front of her with nothing but a plea in his eyes.

Tears brimmed in her lashes as she whispered, her voice shaky yet certain,

“Ekaksh… I am already yours. You don’t need to ask.”