Page 37 of His Arranged Wife
"Sorry. I was finishing some work."
She took her usual seat in the corner, pulling out her laptop to take notes. On the table beside her, she'd placed her jar of Nutella and a package of imported biscuits—a small comfort in what was sure to be a long, tedious meeting.
Bruno appeared in the doorway, surveyed the room, and made a beeline for her corner.
He settled beside her chair with a heavy sigh, as if the burden of being a demon dog was too much to bear.
"The venue is confirmed," Kritika was saying, her tone bright and efficient. "The Grand Taj ballroom, Saturday three weeks from now. We're expecting over three hundred guests."
"The governor confirmed his attendance," Saroj added proudly. "As did several ministers. This will be our biggest event yet."
"Kabir's company has agreed to be the main sponsor," Tanisha announced, practically glowing. "He's donating five crores to the foundation."
"How generous," Saroj beamed. "What a wonderful man, Tanisha. You're very lucky."
Nimisha tried not to roll her eyes. Kabir's "generosity" was clearly a strategic move to ingratiate himself with the family. Everything about the man screamed calculated.
She reached for her Nutella jar and tried to open it. The lid was stuck tight, refusing to budge no matter how hard she twisted.
Bruno watched her struggles with his typical disdain.
"Stop being judgy, Boo, and help me," she muttered under her breath. "Can those teeth do anything useful besides ripping people apart?"
Bruno huffed, a sound that clearly communicated:I kill, adorable. Opening jars is beneath me.
He tilted his massive head toward where Samarth sat at the head of the seating arrangement, his laptop open, barely payingattention to the conversation. The dog's eyes seemed to say:Ask him.
"I'm not asking him," Nimisha whispered.
Bruno's expression suggested she was being ridiculous.
"We need to finalize the entertainment," Kritika continued. "I was thinking a classical dance performance for the cultural segment, and then a live band for the dinner portion."
"Perfect," Saroj agreed. "Nimisha, did you finish the seating arrangements?"
"Almost. I just need to confirm a few of the corporate sponsors' table preferences."
"Make sure the Mehtas are at table one with us," Saroj instructed. "And the Kapoors should be close to the stage."
"Of course."
"Kabir should be at the main table as well," Tanisha added. "Since he's the primary sponsor."
Nimisha made a note, trying to ignore the way Kabir's eyes had just drifted to her again. He was at the far end of the room, discussing something with Raghbir, but his gaze kept sliding her way.
Bruno's body went rigid beside her, a low growl building in his chest—so quiet only she could hear it.
She rested her hand on his head, the touch calming him slightly.
"Why is Bruno always near Nimisha lately?" Tanisha asked, noticing the dog's position. "It's so strange."
"He never warmed to me like this," Kritika said, a hint of petulance in her voice. "I've been trying for years."
"Dogs sense things," Saroj said dismissively. "Maybe he pities her."
The barb landed precisely where it was meant to, but Nimisha's expression didn't change. She was used to this.
A shadow fell across her, and suddenly the Nutella jar was plucked from her hands.
