Ten minutes later, Leena entered the cabin, her face pale. Anant sat on the couch, engrossed in reading the file. Leena approached him, her anger evident.
"It's not good for you to be short-tempered," he remarked, closing the file.
"Doesn't matter," she retorted, seething with anger. Anant arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. This girl was quick-tempered and stubborn, yet beautiful and slender. He noticed the tears in her eyes and moistened his lips.
"Come here," he beckoned, crossing his arms. Leena hesitated for a moment before cautiously moving closer. As she took a step forward, he instructed her to sit beside him.
"Sit here."
She pouted in response. Anant extended his hand and placed it gently on her head, the first time he had ever done so. In that moment, she felt a surge of
