A dull relentless throbbing pounded against my skull as I slowly opened my eyes, wincing at the morning light streaming through the curtains. My throat felt parched and I let out a low groan, cursing the hangover clawing at my senses.

It took me a moment to register the softness beneath my hand—the warmth pressed against my chest. My arm was wrapped around something—no, someone. My eyes shot down to find Avira nestled against me, her face resting on my shoulder, our legs tangled together like we had been molded to fit, she fits on my arms like she’s only made for me.

My brows furrowed in confusion. It was just our second night after the marriage, and we weren’t like this even on the first night. Why was I holding her like she was my lifeline?

Then it hit me like a truck, the memories of last night crashing down one after another. The drinking. The breakdown. The desperate need to hold her. The childish behaviour. The kiss. And the worst part I did was squzeeing her breast. I facepalmed a wave of embarrassment washed over me.

What the fuck had I done?

Avira stirred beside me, and I froze as her eyes slowly fluttered open. A soft, sleepy smile tugged at her lips.

"Good morning," she whispered, stretching a little.

I clenched my jaw, feeling heat creep up my neck. I couldn’t look at her. What the hell had I done last night.

She raised an eyebrow, then her smile turned wicked. "Oh, don’t tell me the mighty Viktor Schwarz is embarrassed."

I glared at the wall, refusing to give her the satisfaction.

“Silence suits you.” She bit back a laugh. "You were such a baby last night," she teased. "Kept asking for kisses like some lovesick puppy."

I snapped my head toward her. "I did not."

She nodded, barely containing her laughter. "Oh, you did. You clung to me like a koala and wouldn’t let go. Kept saying, 'Just one more kiss, Printsessa,' and pouting when I tried to move."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I was drunk."

"Drunk or not, you literally whined when I tried to push you away. Like, full on sulking. I didn’t know you had this side too."

"Shut up," I muttered, feeling like an idiot.

She leaned closer, grinning. "You’re kind of cute when you’re not acting like a scary mafia boss, you know."

I shot her a glare, but she just laughed and ruffled my hair, and damn it my chest did that weird tight thing again. Her laughter rang out, bright and unrestrained, and I just... froze. I’d never seen her like this—completely carefree, her head thrown back, her shoulders shaking with pure, unguarded joy, her eyes shimmering with tears of mirth. She looked so alive, so full of warmth, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

My chest tightened again, and I felt something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just the embarrassment but of her teasing—it was more than that. It was a ache deep inside, a strange kind of longing that made my throat dry and my heart pound.

I didn’t care that she was laughing at me. I didn’t care how ridiculous I must’ve looked last night. All that mattered was that I’d made her laugh like this. It was the first time I’d seen her completely unguarded, not holding back or putting up walls.

Something twisted in me, almost painfully, and I realized I wanted to be the reason she laughed like this every single day. I wanted to see her eyes light up like that, hear that soft, breathless laugh that seemed to fill every corner of the room.

I hadn’t even noticed I was staring until she paused, catching her breath, her cheeks flushed from laughter. She looked at me, and something in my expression must’ve given me away because her teasing smile softened.

And I knew that I’d do anything to see her like this again—free, happy, and laughing without a care in the world.

After their breakfast Avira was getting bored so she thought to make a cake, she stood on the stool in the spacious kitchen, stretching on her tiptoes as she tried to grab the steel jar of flour from the highest drawer. She huffed in frustration, cursing whoever thought placing it there was a good idea. Just as her fingers brushed against the jar, she lost her balance and stumbled.

At the same moment, Viktor walked into the kitchen, his eyes widening in alarm as he saw her swaying on the unsteady stool. His heart pounded as he bolted forward, intent on catching her before she hit the floor but she grabbed the drawer and balanced herself.

"Vik—, wait—" she shouted, but it was too late.

In his rush to grab her, the jar tilted at that time due her hand and the flour fell upon him. The steel container clattered to the ground with a loud thud, a cloud of fine flour burst into the air, covering Viktor from head to toe like a ghostly apparition.

Viktor stood there frozen, his face, clothes and hair dusted white, his expression a perfect combination of disbelief and irritation. Avira pressed her lips together, trying desperately to hold back her laughter, but it was useless. A giggle slipped out, then another and at last she couldn’t help but busted out laughing, clutching her stomach while tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

The loud sound had drawn the attention of the housekeeping staff, who rushed in, only to freeze when they saw Viktor’s intimidating figure cloaked in white like some wrathful specter while she continued laughing. Panic settled in as the butlers and maids shared uneasy glances, each one silently praying they weren’t about to lose their jobs.

One butler hesitantly approached, daring to speak. "S-Sir—"

"Get out." Viktor’s voice was low, lethal and dripping with menace. His death glare sent everyone scattering in an instant, leaving just him and Avira alone in the kitchen.

He was standing there with flour coating his dark hair and clothes, but his intense gaze remained fixed on her. Despite his stern demeanor, his eyes softened as he watched her struggle to compose herself.

When her laughter finally subsided, she wiped the tears from her eye and managed to mutter, "Sorry, Viktor, I was just trying to—"

He cut her off, his voice unexpectedly quiet. "What did you call me?" He held her hand to help her come down to the floor.

She blinked, confused. "Viktor?"

"No," he insisted, his brows knitting together. "Earlier."

Her frown deepened as she thought back. "Ah... Vik?"

He nodded, and for a fleeting moment, something vulnerable passed over his face. "My mom used to call me that."

Avira froze, guilt washing over her as she realized she might have crossed a line. But before she could say anything, Viktor let out a small huff, brushing the flour off his shoulders with a hint of amusement tugging at his lips.

Viktor looked down at himself coated in white flour before lifting his gaze back to Avira. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he said, almost hesitantly, “I... I liked it when you called me that.”

She tilted her head, surprise flickering across her face. “Oh...” she mumbled. “Can I... call you that?”

He gave a small nod, his lips curving upward. “Please. I like that.” He paused, his eyes locked onto hers. “Call me again.”

A warmth spread across her cheeks as she whispered, “Vik...”

His heart skipped a beat and he cursed himself internally for how good it sounded coming from her lips. A smile broke through his usual stoic expression as he murmured, almost to himself, “You’ll be the death of me, Printsessa.”

He began dusting the wheat from his clothes and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her subtly scooting away. He paused, realizing she was deliberately putting distance between them to avoid getting dirty.

His smirk widened as he took a single, purposeful step toward her. “Come here,  Printsessa.”

She instantly shook her head, eyes wide with playful fear. “No way. You’re not getting anywhere near me like that!”

His eyes glinted mischievously. “No problem,” he drawled, taking another step. “I’ll come to you.”

Before he could react she ran away, spinning around and exiting the kitchen. Viktor chased after her, his longer strides easily closing the gap as she weaved through the hallway, her laughter ringing like a melody in his ears.

“Vik, stay back!” she yelled over her shoulder, but he didn’t slow down—if anything, he sped up, his smirk never leaving his face.

“You started it, Printsessa,” he taunted, barely holding back his own laugh as she narrowly dodged his outstretched arm.

She shot him an incredulous look mid run, her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mirth. “I was just trying to get some flour! You’re the one who turned into a ghost!”

He chuckled, enjoying the sound of her carefree voice and the sight of her genuinely happy for once. “Better prepare to face the consequences!”

Her heart pounded not just from running but from the unexpected excitement and she knew he was right behind her, almost close enough to catch her.

The living room was filled with chaotic laughter as she darted around the sofas, a cloud of white flour clinging to me like a ghostly aura. The maids who happened to catch sight of this rare, playful side of me were left completely stunned, exchanging wide-eyed glances as we cautiously peeked around corners. they’re were seeing this side of me for the first time.

"Vik!" she squealed between giggles, dodging behind a chair. "Stop! You're making a mess!"

I only smirked, clearly not caring about any mess. "You started it, Printsessa," I taunted, feigning to go left before dashing right, making her squeal and change directions.

Finally, I caught her, my strong arms pinning her against the wall. my breath was still slightly uneven from the chase, but my smirk never wavered. Pressing my palms flat on the wall beside her head, I caged her in, my face inches from hers. She looked up at me, still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.

"Look what you did to me," I murmured, my voice low and teasing as my eyes roamed over her face, landing on her lips. "Now you owe me, Printsessa."

Her brows knitted together in confusion and she stammered, "Ow…ee you? For wh…at?"

I leaned closer, my lips just brushing hers. "For making me look like a ghost."

Before she could protest or react, I closed the distance, capturing her lips in a slow, intoxicating kiss. She stilled for just a heartbeat before melting into me, her hands moving up to my chest, bunching my flour coated shirt in her fists. My grip tightened on her waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss as if I never wanted to let go—I explored her mouth with my tongue and fuck she’s just enhancing my desire for her, she taste heavenly good. When I felt she was getting out of breath I finally pulled back, just enough to let her breathe, I nuzzled my flour coated nose against hers, deliberately making her nose white too.

She huffed a laugh and scrunched her nose. "Now look what you did," she mumbled.

My smirk softened into a rare, almost affectionate smile. "You’ll be the death of me, Printsessa," I murmured, brushing my thumb gently along her cheek, wiping away a smudge of flour. She tried to duck away, but I held her firmly in place, my eyes tracing every inch of her face with a softness that seemed so foreign and yet so natural at the same time.

Viktor started to lean in once again, his lips just a breath away from mine, when suddenly a loud, masculine laugh followed by a soft giggle interrupted us. Our heads turned around in unison, only to find Max and Riya standing by the doorway. Max looked like he was seconds away from doubling over with laughter.

“Well, well, Boss! Never thought I’d see the mighty Viktor Schwarz lookin’ like a ghost caught in a love story,” max erupted wiping a tear from his eye. Riya, beside him, smirked and added, “And here I thought the mafia doesn’t do cute and Avi you too.”

It hit me that I was still pinned against the wall with his arms caging me. My cheeks flushed red as I pushed him away. Viktor shot Max a glare that would’ve frozen hell, but Max only grinned wider.

“Oh my God, Mr. Clown, can you stop being an idiot for once?” Riya groaned at Max's dramatic grin, elbowing him. Max clutched his chest dramatically. “Angel! You wound me! Bhabhi, did you hear that? She’s bullying me again!”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Maybe she’s just calling you out on your natural talents, Mr. Clown.”

Viktor’s lips quirked up at that, and he gave a low chuckle.

Max pouted, looking at Viktor. “Viktor, you hear that? Your wife’s ganging up on me too!”

Viktor crossed his arms, his expression still stern but eyes sparkling with amusement. “Can’t blame her. You do look like a clown most of the time.”

I let out a low chuckle.

Riya burst out laughing. “See? Even my jiju agrees. Clown suits you.”

Max scoffed and tossed his hands in the air. “Unbelievable. My best friend and my own girlfriend, united against me and Bhabhi you too. Where’s the loyalty?”

Viktor glanced at him with a sly smile. “Maybe if you weren’t acting like an idiot, you wouldn’t get called one.”

Max gasped dramatically, pointing at Viktor. “Viktor?”

Riya gave him a sweet but wicked grin. “Oh, shut up, Mr. Clown.”

Max grumbled under his breath but his lips twitched with a reluctant smile. I couldn’t help but giggle at the chaos, and even Viktor seemed more relaxed than usual, his expression softer and more at ease. It was strange seeing this side of him but... I liked it.

Max’s phone buzzed, He pulled it out and checked the screen, his jaw tightening and his whole demeanor shifted to something more serious. “Ah, shit. I was here to inform you about work, but all this distraction...” he glanced at Riya, who smiled. “Brought Angel too so Bhabhi doesn’t feel alone while we’re gone.”

Viktor gave him a nod, understanding that it must be something important, he quickly went back to room freshen up and came down in fresh clothes. He brushed his thumb gently over my cheek, his voice low and soft. “I’ll be back soon, Printsessa.”

Before I could reply, he dragged Max away who was too busy being clingy with Riya to even notice. “Angel, promise me you won’t miss me too much,” Max whined, earning a shove from Viktor. I couldn’t help but laugh as they finally left, Viktor practically yanking Max out the door.

As soon as they were gone, I turned to Riya with a playful smirk. “Mr. Clown! Kitna chipak raha tha jaate waqt!”

Riya rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “Aur tu! Madam ‘mujhe yeh gunda pasand nahi’ bolti thi na? Ab kya hua? Usse chipki thi aise jaise peechle saat janam se intezaar kar rahi thi!”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Chup kar, okay? Woh... woh alag tha.”

Riya scoffed. “Alag tha? Ab woh alag hote hue bhi tere itne paas kaise aagaya?” She wiggled her eyebrows, and I smacked her arm lightly.

“Kuch bhi bakwas mat kar. Waise bhi, why he was looking cute today... aur woh smile...” I trailed off, realizing I was grinning like an idiot.

Riya raised an eyebrow. “Ohh, madam ko ab cute bhi lagne laga hai? Wah, kya baat hai.”

I pouted. “Uski smile achhi thi... aur woh... umm... woh...” I felt my cheeks warm up again.

Riya burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Haaye! Teri toh! Ab toh tu gayi.

I bit my lip to suppress my own smile, trying to act nonchalant. “Aisa kuch nahi hai, okay?”

Riya just smirked, giving me a knowing look. “Haan haan, jo bhi. Par sach bol, thoda toh heart skip kiya na jab usne ‘Printsessa’ bola?”

My face heated up even more, and I couldn’t deny it. “Haan, thoda...” I mumbled, and Riya squealed in delight, pulling me into a hug.

“Bas, ab yeh love story blockbuster hone wali hai. Main toh ab popcorn lekar baithne wali hoon.”

As Riya and I sat on the plush sofa, a comfortable silence lingered between us. I couldn't help but let my thoughts drift back to Aryan, worry gnawing at me.

"Ri," I began hesitantly, tracing the pattern on a cushion with my finger. "Aryan kaisa hai? Maine try kiya usko contact karne ka, par vo mere messages aur call ka reply hi nahi kar raha."

Riya let out a small sigh, her expression softening. "Vo toot gaya hai, Avi. Bhout pyaar karta tha tere se. Max, mai aur Elena bhout koshish kar rahe hain cheer up karne ki, par..." She trailed off, pressing her lips together as if holding back more. "Lekin jab vo Elena ke saath hota hai to thoda light feel karta hai. Magar abhi 2 din se apne fashion show designing mein busy hai Elena... Samajh nahi aa raha kya kare."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, guilt and sadness mingling together. "Kya mujhe usse milna chahiye?" I asked softly, my gaze lowering to the floor.

Riya quickly shook her head. "Nahi Avi, tujhse milne ke baad vo aur bhi zyada depressed ho jayega. Kyunki... tu ab shaadi-shuda hai. Uske liye yeh sab abhi bhi bahut mushkil hai."

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do. Aryan had always been my rock, my best friend, and knowing he was hurting because of me made my chest ache. I wished there was something, anything I could do to make it better.   

****

Well well well… who knew our mighty Mafia King had a secret koala mode? 🐨😂 Honestly, if someone had told me Viktor Schwarz would beg for kisses and pout like a toddler, I would've laughed in their face. But here we are. Covered in flour, stealing kisses, and making hearts combust one “Printsessa” at a time!

Also, a moment of silence for the housekeeping staff who probably aged five years watching their boss turn into a literal ghost chasing his wife around the house. RIP to their nerves.

But let’s be real—flour fights, surprise kisses, and a mafia boss going soft? We’re definitely one step closer to chaos… and maybe, love? 😏

Stay tuned, Schwarzlings. You won’t want to miss what’s coming next. Don't forget to drop your thoughts in the comments and votes 😈💋
—With love and flour,
Your chaos-loving author 💅