Page 5 of His Arranged Wife
The woman nodded and started to leave.
"Could you also bring some of those biscuits from the kitchen? The butter ones?" Nimisha asked, trying to keep her voice light and friendly.
"I'll check if there are any left, madam."
"Left?" Nimisha glanced at the clock. It was barely eleven in the morning.
Radha shifted uncomfortably. "Kritika ma'am mentioned she wanted them with her tea. I prepared a fresh batch for her."
Of course she did.
"That's fine," Nimisha said, her smile not wavering. "Regular tea is perfect."
Radha scurried out, and Nimisha turned back to her screen. She was used to it by now—the servants' clear preference for Kritika, who visited the Ranawat mansion almost daily. Saroj's beloved adopted daughter, Samarth's childhood friend. The woman who should have been sitting in this study if fate had been kinder.
The woman the entire family wished had married their precious eldest son instead of the stranger forced upon him.
Nimisha saved her document and closed her laptop. Writing was impossible today.
She stood, stretching her stiff shoulders, and walked to the window. Her private study overlooked the gardens, and from here, she could see—
Her breath caught.
Bruno.
The massive black Cane Corso stood at the edge of the garden, his dark eyes fixed on her window. Four years old, a hundred and thirty pounds of pure muscle and menace, Bruno was Samarth's most loyal companion. His "lethal shadow," as the staff called him.
Everyone in the house feared him. Even Raghbir gave the dog a wide berth.
But Nimisha and Bruno had a secret.
She glanced toward her closed door, then moved quickly to her desk drawer. Pulling out the small container of treats she kept hidden there, she opened her study's French doors that led to a private balcony.
Bruno was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
"Hello, Boo Berry," she whispered, descending the steps.
The dog's tail didn't wag—Bruno didn't do cute—but his ears perked up slightly, and he sat with dignified patience as she approached.
She extended her hand with the treat. Bruno took it with surprising gentleness, his dark eyes never leaving hers.
"Good boy," she murmured, running her hand over his massive head. His fur was soft despite his intimidating appearance.
This had started six months into her marriage. She'd been crying in the garden—a rare moment when she'd allowed herself to break—and Bruno had appeared. He hadn't tried to comfort her in the typical dog way. He'd simply sat beside her, a solid presence in her loneliness.
Since then, they'd formed an understanding. In the privacy of shadows and stolen moments, Bruno was her friend. Her only friend in this house.
But they were never seen together. She couldn't explain why, but instinct told her to keep their bond secret. Maybe because Bruno was Samarth's, and she was already taking up too much space in a life where she wasn't wanted.
"Mrs. Ranawat."
Nimisha spun around, her heart lurching.
Samarth stood in the garden doorway, still wearing his suit from whatever "business" he'd conducted that morning. His dark eyes tracked from her to Bruno and back again.
She swallowed hard, waiting for his reaction.
But he simply looked at her with that familiar indifference, as though catching his wife with his dog was of no consequence whatsoever.
