“I’ll kill you if this doesn’t work,” Raghav said finally, though there was no real threat in it.
“It’ll work. Just try not to terrify her with your intensity. Women generally prefer not to feel like hostile takeover targets.”
He ended the call as he heard her footsteps approaching his office. The soft knock that followed was exactly as he expected. Three light taps, perfectly spaced.
“Come in,” he called, locking his phone.
Ishani entered, composed once more, hair restored to its neat arrangement, professional mask firmly in place. No trace remained of the laughing, unguarded woman from the break room.
“I’ve finished the revised slides,” she said, tablet in hand. “Is there anything else you need before I head home?”
Raghav watched her closely, noticing how she carried herself. Her chin was held high, and her posture was straight, giving away nothing about what she really felt. She had put up walls again, hiding the warmth he had seen just moments before.
It only made him more determined to break through them.
“Actually, Ishani,” he said, reaching out for his car keys. “There is one more thing we should discuss while we are on the way to your home.”
The simple statement hung between them, weighted with unspoken intention. His eyes held hers, no longer assessing an employee but measuring the woman he’d decided would be his.
Raghav Khanna never lost what he set his sights on—and he had very clearly set his sights on Ishani Rao.
Chapter 10
That night, Raghav stood by the wide windows of his room. It was close to midnight. He’d reached home five minutes ago after dropping off Ishani. His mind kept replaying how she’d sat stiffly in his car tonight, the polite space she kept between them, and that brief spark in her eyes when he’d offered to drive her home.
He turned to his desk, eyes landing on his laptop. Abhinav’s advice bounced around his head: “Create an opportunity.”
With a swift tug, he yanked off his tie and tossed it over the back of his chair. His fingers hovered over the keys for a second—then, with a mix of dread and determination, he typed: how to propose to a girl.
Instantly, he was swimming in advice meant for giggling teens: “Show her you care!” “Make it personal!” “Create a lasting memory!”
None of it felt like him. He was about to slam the lid shut when a headline caught his eye: “Valentine’s Week: Seven Days of Romance.”
He clicked it—part curiosity, part irritation. Rose Day, Propose Day, Chocolate Day, Teddy Day, Promise Day, Hug Day, Kiss Day, and then Valentine’s Day itself. There it was, a full week of Hallmark-style obligations.
Raghav snorted.
Yet…seven days. Seven chances. It sounded suspiciously like a business plan: clear milestones, defined deliverables, ultimate goal in sight. And Valentine’s Day was only a week away.
“Ridiculous,” he muttered. But he opened a fresh tab, ready to learn everything. Tomorrow was Rose Day—February 7th—something he’d always skipped in college, treating it like a pointless distraction. Back then, he cared more about networking than nicknacks. But Ishani wasn’t impressed by PowerPoints or profit margins. She kept her walls firmly up, matching his own control freak tendencies. He needed a new playbook.
He closed his eyes and pictured her laughing on that video call with her mother, totally unguarded, unfiltered joy.
That was the prize.
He opened Excel and, like drafting a merger deal, built a spreadsheet: columns for each day, rows for delivery times, gift ideas, even predicted reactions. He paused only to double-check the official Valentine’s Week schedule.
When he finally shut his laptop, a small, smug smile crept onto his face. The strategy was set. Every tiny detail mapped out. For once, Raghav Khanna was chasing after someone with the same ruthless focus he applied to closing deals. He strolled back to the window and imagined Ishani asleep, completely clueless that her neat little world was about to wobble.
“Let’s see, my sweet, sweet executive assistant, if you excel at ‘guess who’ game as well.”
That thought gave him a rush more satisfying than any boardroom victory. He glanced at his watch—five hours until he needed to be at the office. Early enough to witness her reaction to that first rose—subtly, of course.
Sleep felt optional, but he’d force an hour or two.
The coming week required him at peak grump-CEO efficiency. After all, Raghav Khanna never played to lose.
Rose Day
