Style.

27. Pooja.

✨ CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN ✨

The next day, as the sun rose over the cricket field, Mrunmayee approached Shubman with the day’s schedule in hand.

“Good morning, Sir,” she began, her voice cool and professional. “You have practice scheduled for the morning, followed by the team’s attendance at the pooja.”

Still on her self-imposed silent treatment, Mrunmayee couldn’t help but notice Shubman’s growing frustration. Every time she addressed him as “sir,” it seemed to irk him more.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘sir’?” he finally exploded, pinning her against the wall with an intensity that took her by surprise.

With a raised eyebrow, Mrunmayee met his gaze head-on.

“You’re my boss, aren’t you? What else should I call you?” she retorted, refusing to back down. But her façade cracked when Shubman’s next words hit her like a slap in the face.

“I’m your boyfriend too,” he declared, his voice tinged with hurt.

“Oh, really?” she shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You didn’t seem to remember that when you were cozying up to the interviewer. Sir.”

As the tension crackled between them, Shubman’s frustration boiled over.

“Mrunmayee, if you call me ‘sir’ one more time,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll make sure you’re moaning the word ‘sir’ on my bed tonight.”

The threat hung in the air, thick with unspoken desire and unresolved tension.

“Oh, so now you’re threatening me?” she shot back, her voice laced with defiance.

Shubman’s frustration deepened as he watched Mrunmayee turn to leave, her determination palpable.

“Mrunmayee, wait,” he called after her, reaching out to grab her arm.

But she shook him off, her eyes blazing with fury.

“No, sir,” she said, her voice cold as ice. “I’m done playing your games. You want to act like you’re the boss? Fine. But don’t expect me to stick around and play the role of the obedient employee.”

With that, she stormed off, leaving Shubman standing there, dumbfounded. He watched her retreating figure, a mix of frustration and regret swirling in his chest.

Meanwhile, back at the team’s practice session, Ishan and Shreyas exchanged knowing looks as they watched Mrunmayee storm past them.

“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse,” Ishan whispered, unable to suppress a grin.

Shreyas chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, Shubman’s really done it this time,” he said, his tone filled with amusement.

But as they watched Mrunmayee disappear into the distance, a pang of guilt tugged at Shubman’s conscience. Maybe he had gone too far this time. Maybe he needed to swallow his pride and apologize. With a sigh, he set off after her, determined to make things right.

After all, he couldn’t afford to lose her—not as his manager, and certainly not as his girlfriend.

Shubman stood outside Mrunmayee’s cabin, nervously clutching the chocolates and teddy bear in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, hoping she would forgive him.

“Come in,” Mrunmayee’s voice called from inside, sounding wary but curious.

As he entered, Shubman plastered on his most charming smile, holding out the gifts like a peace offering.

“Hey, Mrunmayee,” he began, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I brought these for you… as a way of saying sorry.”

Mrunmayee eyed the chocolates and teddy bear, her resolve waning at the sight of his contrite expression.

“Sir, you didn’t have to,” she murmured, feeling a soft tug at her heartstrings.

But Shubman was already on a roll, determined to win her over. “I know, I know,” he said quickly, setting the gifts down on her desk. “But I want to make it up to you. I’ll do anything.”

Mrunmayee couldn’t help but chuckle at his earnestness, despite herself.