The Billionaire's Bought Bride

Chapter 8: A Bold Stand and a Stolen Kiss - 18+

The aroma of freshly baked cookies filled the car as Aditi hummed along to a peppy Bollywood tune. Today was a special day. She'd spent the morning whipping up Arjun's favorite lunch, determined to surprise him amidst the chaos of his workday. The image of his surprised yet pleased face fueled her excitement as she weaved through the city traffic.

Reaching the imposing glass façade of Rathore Industries, Aditi's smile faltered slightly. The imposing front desk, manned by a young woman with a perfectly manicured bob and a bored expression, instantly put her on edge.

"Good afternoon," Aditi greeted her with a warm smile.

The receptionist, without even looking up from her phone, gave a curt nod. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Actually," Aditi began, her smile faltering slightly, "I have lunch for Mr. Rathore. I'm his wife, Aditi Rathore."

The receptionist's head snapped up, her eyes widening in surprise. She quickly schooled her expression into a bored indifference. "Lunch deliveries need to go through the designated service," she stated in a snooty tone. "Security won't allow it otherwise."

Aditi felt a surge of annoyance bubble up within her. "But it's homemade," she tried to explain patiently. "I'm sure Mr. Rathore would appreciate-"

"Listen, village girl," the receptionist interrupted, her voice dripping with condescension. "There are rules here. You either follow them or leave."

The blatant disrespect stung. Aditi wasn't some naïve village girl; she was a woman who knew her worth. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and met the receptionist's gaze with unwavering determination.

"Firstly," she said, her voice firm but polite, "my name is Mrs. Rathore, and secondly, I can assure you Mr. Rathore would not appreciate his wife being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner."

The receptionist scoffed, but a flicker of uncertainty crossed her eyes. Just then, the office door behind her swung open, revealing a familiar figure. Arjun, on his way to a meeting, stopped short as he witnessed the unfolding scene.

His gaze flickered between the flustered receptionist and a defiant Aditi, his expression unreadable. He strode towards them, his presence radiating authority.

"What's going on here, Sarah?" he asked, his voice laced with a steely edge.

The receptionist, visibly intimidated, stammered, "Mr. Rathore, uh, Mrs. Rathore here insisted on delivering lunch personally and wouldn't follow protocol."

Arjun's eyes narrowed. He turned to Aditi, concern softening his features. "Is that true, Aditi?"

Aditi met his gaze, her chin held high. "Yes, Arjun," she admitted, "but it's not just about the lunch. This woman called me a 'village girl' and refused to let me through."

Arjun's jaw clenched. He turned back to the receptionist, his voice cold and hard. "Sarah, this is my wife, Aditi Rathore. You will treat her with the respect she deserves, understood?"

The receptionist's face paled. She mumbled a meek apology, her previous arrogance completely vanished.

Arjun ignored her, his gaze now solely focused on Aditi. He walked towards her, his eyes filled with admiration. "That was incredible, Aditi," he said, his voice low and intense.

"I just... couldn't let her disrespect me," Aditi admitted, a flicker of defiance still lingering in her voice.

Arjun reached out and cupped her face, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. "And you shouldn't have to," he murmured, his gaze flickering to her lips.