"Operation Embarrass Mihir"

It all started with a simple bet-Mihir lost. Again. And Vanya, being the evil genius she was, had a brilliant punishment in mind.

"You have to do whatever I say for the next 24 hours." She grinned wickedly.

Mihir, ever the overconfident fool, shrugged. "Easy. What do I have to do?"

Vanya's smirk widened. "Oh, you'll see."

-

The next day, Mihir regretted everything or maybe not.

Because here he was, in the middle of a crowded mall, dressed in a bright pink kurta, holding a giant teddy bear, and...

Singing a Bollywood love song. Loudly.

"Tum pas aaye,yu muskuraye,tumne na jaye kya Sapne dikhaye- ab to Mera dil jaage Na sota hai ,kya kru jaaye kuch kuch hota hai "

And Vanya?

She was hiding behind a pillar, shaking with silent laughter, recording the whole thing with her phone.

"Louder, Mihir! Where's the passion?!" she called out, barely holding back her cackles.

Mihir, shot her a glare that promised revenge. But right now, he had to finish the performance.

But instead of dying of embarrassment, he suddenly smirked.

That's when Vanya noticed something odd.

No one was laughing at Mihir. The guards weren't intervening

Instead, some people cheered. A few even joined in.

Vanya frowned. "Wait... why is no one kicking him out?"

Mihir, now completely in his element, finished his song, took a deep bow, and the crowd actually clapped. A few older ladies even complimented him, saying, "Wah beta, what a voice!"

Vanya stood there, dumbfounded.

Mihir, walked toward her with the biggest smirk ever.

"Oh, my dear Vanya," he whispered near her ear, "Did you really think I'd step into a public mall without making sure I controlled the crowd?"

Vanya blinked. "WHAT?!"

Mihir chuckled. "This mall? Filled with my own people. Security? Knows me personally. Those men recording? My PR team.

Vanya's jaw dropped.

Cheating!!!

Mihir leaned in, whispering near her ear. "Your turn next, sweetheart. you have no idea what you've just started."

And just like that, their war of pranks had officially begun.

______________________________________

They were having their usual debate and discussions about politics and the world again, their conversations always a mix of sharp intellect and playful banter.

Vanya and Mihir sat across from each other at a quiet rooftop café , a cup of chai in her hand and black coffee in his. The night was cool, the city lights of Udaipur twinkling in the distance.

Vanya: "See, politics is all about strategy. You need to appeal to people's emotions but also have a strong logical backing. It's like chess, every move should be calculated."

Mihir smirked, leaning back in his chair. "And here I thought you were just here for the chai, not to give me an election masterclass."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Mihir. If you ever want to stand against a ruling party in the future, you need to connect with people on a deeper level."

Mihir: "Okay, Miss Rajput, then tell me, how would you handle a situation where the opposition spreads a scandal about me?"

Vanya: if the opposition ever tries to slander you, don't be reactive. Be proactive."

Mihir: "Oh? And how do I 'proactively' handle a scandal?"

Vanya, tapping her chin, mischief dancing in her eyes: "Simple. We create one first-something scandalous but controlled."

Mihir blinked. "I'm sorry, what-?"

Vanya, casually sipping her chai: "Like... leaking a fake engagement rumor about you."

Mihir nearly dropped his coffee. "EXCUSE ME?!"

Vanya, all innocent: "It would shift the public focus, create curiosity, and before they dig deeper, BOOM-you drop a major policy move and steal the headlines back."

Mihir, narrowing his eyes: "And who exactly would be my 'fake fiancée'?"

Vanya, sipping dramatically: "Someone reputable. Smart. Feisty. Great at handling media."

Mihir leaned in, smirking: "Vanya Rajput, are you volunteering?"

Vanya choked on her chai. "WHAT?! NO! That was an example, you, narcissistic-!"

Mihir, grinning wider: "Too late. If any rumors start, I know exactly who's behind them."

Vanya groaned, hiding her face while Mihir sat back, victorious.

______________________________________

Vanya wasn't just an observer in Mihir's political journey-she was the silent force behind many of his decisions. Though the world only saw Mihir Shekhawat, Udaipur's rising MLA, those who paid close attention would always find her presence nearby.

She never stood at the podium, never spoke in front of the cameras, but she was always there-attending every event, sitting quietly in the back during meetings, listening, analyzing, and later, behind closed doors, sharing her insights with him.

He leaned back in his chair, rolling a pen between his fingers.

Mihir: "The opposition is targeting our youth employment policy. They say it's all talk, no action."

Vanya, seated across from him, arms crossed, smirked.

Vanya: "Then give them action. Announce district-level skill centers. Practical training, startup grants, and mentorship programs. Make them see results before they can criticize."

Mihir: "Hmm... And if they still talk?"

Vanya: "Then let them. By the time they finish talking, you'll already be ten steps ahead."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

Mihir: "You should be in politics"

Vanya: "Who says I'm not?" she quipped, her eyes glinting with mischief.

______________________________________

𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑬𝒙𝒂𝒎

Three and a half years. That's how long it has been since their first encounter. Since the sharp debates, the playful challenges, the unspoken pull between them.

From stolen glances in corridors to whispered conversations past midnight, from arguing like rivals to something far more complex-they had become inevitable.

And now, Vanya finds herself standing at the edge of change. Her final exam. The last bell.

She exhaled slowly, letting the moment settle.

Outside, he was waiting.

Leaning against his car with effortless confidence, Mihir Shekhawat was a sight meant to make hearts stutter. Sleeves rolled up, sunglasses hooked onto his shirt collar, a smirk curving his lips like he had already won something.

Mihir: "Took you long enough, Miss Rajput. I was about to file a missing person's report."

Vanya rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the small grin tugging at her lips.

Vanya: "Some of us actually study, Mr. Shekhawat. Not everything is about sweet-talking your way to success."

Mihir: "Sweet-talking? Rajput, if I recall correctly, you're the one who hangs onto my every word."

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

Mihir: "So, now that you're done playing student-of-the-year, what's next?"

She glanced at the sky, the weight of the moment pressing on her, before meeting his gaze.

Vanya: "Let's see where life takes me."

Mihir: "You mean where I take you?"

She arched a brow, her voice laced with amusement. "Excuse me?"

Mihir, opening the car door with a smirk: "Get in. We're celebrating."

Vanya: "And if I refuse?"

He leaned in slightly, his voice a low murmur, just for her.

Mihir: "Then I'll be forced to deliver an award-winning political speech about how stubborn and impossible you are. And since we both know you care about your dignity... I suggest you cooperate."

She narrowed her eyes. "Blackmail, Mr. Shekhawat?"

Mihir: "I prefer 'strategic persuasion.' Now get in before I start listing all the times you secretly smiled at my texts."

Vanya bit her lip, suppressing a laugh, before finally slipping into the passenger seat.

As Mihir started the engine, he glanced at her, smirk never faltering.

Mihir: "So, Miss Rajput, welcome to life after college. Ready for the next chapter?"

She turned to him, an unmistakable spark in her gaze.

Vanya: "As long as you're not the one writing it."

Mihir chuckled, shaking his head.

Mihir: "Oh, sweetheart... I've already drafted the first page."

______________________________________

After graduating, Vanya pursued her Master's in Political Science while officially stepping into Mihir's party-not as a silent observer, but as an active force. She attended meetings, dissected policies, and debated strategies with seasoned politicians who underestimated her-until she spoke.

Mihir, ever the observer, watched as she tore apart an outdated policy, her sharp logic and business acumen on full display. Years of whispered strategies, power plays, and heated debates had shaped her. And now, standing at the crossroads of her future, she knew exactly what she wanted.

___________________

The city stretched beyond Mihir's office window like a sea of stars fallen to earth. Midnight had turned the world outside into a painting of shadows and golden lights, while inside, time seemed to stand still. Only the gentle whisper of the air conditioner and the delicate rustle of paper broke the silence as Vanya turned another page of the policy draft.

She sat curled on the couch, a vision of quiet grace, lost in the words before her-until she felt the weight of his gaze.

"You're staring," she said softly, not looking up, her fingers lingering on the edge of a page.

"Admiring," Mihir corrected, his voice warm honey in the quiet room. The corner of his mouth lifted in a gentle smile that reached his eyes.

She kept her eyes on the document, but her lips curved upward. "And what is there to admire at this hour?"

"The way you lose yourself in your work," he said. "The little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you concentrate."

This made her look up, a question in her eyes. Only then did she realize he had moved closer, no longer behind his desk but now just an arm's length away, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes held hers with a tenderness that made her forget to breathe.

"You should rest," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The stars have been out for hours."

She tilted her head, moonlight from the window catching in her hair. "Then why are you still here?"

His smile deepened, revealing a hidden dimple. "Perhaps I'm waiting for a moment just like this one."

The space between them hummed with unspoken words, with all the glances they had shared across crowded rooms, with the spark that jumped between their fingers during accidental touches.

Mihir reached forward, his hand brushing hers as he gently took the file and set it aside. That fleeting touch sent warmth blooming through her veins like ink in water.

"Vanya," he said her name like a cherished melody, each syllable a note he had practiced in his mind.

She found herself leaning closer. "Yes?"

"You've woven yourself into the tapestry of my days," he said, his steady gaze revealing a rare vulnerability. "I didn't notice it happening, but now I can't imagine the pattern without your colors."

Her heart danced against her ribs. This was Mihir Shekhawat-the man who navigated political storms without a wrinkle in his suit-now looking at her with unveiled emotion in his eyes.

The clock on the wall counted heartbeats in the silence.

Then, like the sun breaking through clouds, his serious expression melted into a playful smile.

"Come on a date with me tomorrow."

Vanya blinked. "Date?"

"Just us," he nodded, eyes twinkling. "No policy talk, no political schemes-just two people under the same sky."

She pretended to consider, tapping her finger against her lip. "And if I say I'm busy?"

Mihir leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a velvet whisper. "Then I'll ask about the next day, and the next. I'm a patient man, Vanya Rajput, especially for things that matter."

A smile bloomed across her face. "You seem very sure of yourself."

His fingers found hers again, this time not by accident, his touch light as a promise waiting to be kept.

"With you?" Mihir murmured, his eyes reflecting all the city lights. "I'm sure of nothing and everything at once."

_______________________

Date__

Vanya stepped onto the rooftop garden and caught her breath. Mihir had transformed the space into an enchanted hideaway. Fairy lights twinkled among potted plants, casting a gentle glow over a single table set for two. Above them, the night sky unfurled like black velvet scattered with diamonds.

"You found it," Mihir said, appearing from behind a flowering trellis.

He looked different tonight-dressed in a simple navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. Gone was the politician's formal facade, replaced by something more genuine, more him.

"Your directions were suspiciously detailed," she teased, smoothing her emerald dress. She had debated what to wear for longer than she cared to admit. "I almost thought you'd leave a trail of rose petals."

His smile was playful as he approached. "I considered it, but subtlety seemed wiser. The newspapers would have a field day-'Minister's Aide Caught in Romantic Gesture.'"

"Is that what this is?" Vanya asked, raising an eyebrow. "A romantic gesture?"

Mihir's eyes softened as he took in the sight of her. "What does it feel like to you?"

Instead of answering, she walked to the edge of the rooftop, where the city sprawled below them like a living constellation. "I've been working in this building and never saw this place".

"Few people do," Mihir said, coming to stand beside her. "I wanted somewhere special, away from curious eyes."

Their shoulders were almost touching. The night air carried the scent of jasmine and something that was uniquely Mihir-sandalwood and spice.

"Wine?" he offered, gesturing toward the table where an open bottle waited.

Over dinner-a feast of Vanya's favorite foods that Mihir had somehow discovered without asking-they talked. Not about work or politics, but about childhood dreams, favorite books, and the small joys that made life worth living. Vanya found herself laughing more than she had in months.

"So that's how you ended up with a scar shaped like a crescent moon," she said, still smiling at his story of a childhood adventure gone wrong.

"My mother was furious," Mihir chuckled, his eyes never leaving her face. "But my grandfather said it gave me character."

"He was right," Vanya said softly, before she could stop herself.

Something shifted in Mihir's expression. He reached across the table, his fingers finding hers. "You know, in all our debates and late-night work sessions, I don't think I've ever seen you this relaxed."

"That's because you're usually arguing with me about tax reforms," she retorted, but didn't pull her hand away.

"I prefer to call it 'passionate discussion,'" he corrected with a grin.

As the evening progressed, they moved back to the edge of the rooftop. Vanya leaned against the railing, looking out at the city lights that mirrored the stars above. Mihir stood beside her, their shoulders brushing.

Is that what we're doing now?" Vanya asked, suddenly aware of how his thumb was tracing circles on her palm. "Having a passionate discussion?"

Mihir's eyes darkened. "I think," he said carefully, "we're finally having the conversation we've been dancing around for months."

The string lights reflected in his eyes like stars. Vanya felt her heart beating against her ribs like a caged bird.

"And what conversation is that?" she whispered.

Mihir stood, still holding her hand, and gently pulled her to her feet. With his other hand, he reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face.

"The one where I tell you that every morning when you walk into the office with your coffee and determination, my day suddenly has purpose," he said, his voice low. "The one where I admit that your brilliant mind challenges me in ways no one else dares to. The one where I confess that your smile has become the thing I look forward to most."

Vanya's breath caught. Standing this close, she could see flecks of gold in his dark eyes.

"That's quite a conversation," she managed to say.

"Vanya," his voice was lower than usual. "Do you know what I've learned in politics?"

She tilted her head. "How to evade direct questions?"

His lips curved into that familiar smirk, but his eyes remained serious. "I've learned that power comes from certainty. From planning ten steps ahead and never showing your hand."

He took a step closer. "I believed in strategy, in making things happen, in controlling outcomes. But you..." He exhaled, shaking his head with a small smirk. "You ruined my logic. You walked into my life with your wit, your stubbornness, your fire-and suddenly, none of my plans made sense without you in them."

Vanya's heart pounded in her chest, her grip on the railing tightening.

Mihir took another step, closing the distance between them. "I don't know what love is supposed to feel like. But I know that when you're around, the world doesn't seem as complicated. That even in my worst days, I want to hear your voice, see your eyes light up with an argument, feel your presence beside me."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring-simple yet elegant, just like her.

"Marry me, Vanya." His voice was steady, but his eyes held a quiet plea. "Not because it's expected, not because of politics or strategy-but because I want you. Just you."

Vanya stared at him, emotions crashing into her like waves. She had never imagined this moment-never imagined someone like Mihir Shekhawat standing before her, offering not just a future but himself.

For years, Vanya had harbored a deep crush on Mihir. That initial admiration had grown into something far more intense-something she never dared to name. She had always wanted him, always found herself drawn to him, standing by his side through every storm, every victory. And now, as he stood before her, asking her this-offering himself to her-it felt surreal.

The feeling of liking someone for so long and then having them confess to you... it was indescribable. Overwhelming. Like standing at the edge of a dream she never thought would come true. She felt like she was floating, like she had stepped onto a cloud she never wanted to leave.

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked slowly, her gaze shifting from the ring to him. Mihir was watching her with that boyish smirk, eyes brimming with something warm, something certain. He gave her a small nod, his grin widening as he mouthed, "Let's do this, should we?"

Her heart thudded against her ribs, each beating a chaotic rhythm of disbelief and exhilaration. She let out a small huff, her lips curving into a half-smile as she slapped his arm lightly, her fingers lingering against his sleeve.

But when she met his gaze again, her eyes were soft, glistening with emotions too heavy to name. And then-she nodded. A small, breathless nod, sealing a fate she had unknowingly wished for all along.

The moment she nodded, Mihir's smirk deepened, but there was something else in his gaze-something raw, something that spoke louder than words. He let out a slow breath, like he had been holding it this whole time, waiting for her answer, as if he hadn't been Mihir Shekhawat, the man who always had control over everything.

His fingers, usually so steady, trembled slightly as he slipped the ring onto her finger. The small diamond caught the light of the stars above, but neither of them looked at it. Their eyes remained locked, years of unspoken feelings finally finding their voice in this perfect moment.

"You know," Vanya finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, "for someone who always wins debates, you seemed awfully nervous about my answer."

Mihir's laugh was soft, relieved. He brought his forehead to rest against hers. "Some victories matter more than others, Rajput."

Above them, the night sky continued its silent watch, bearing witness to two lives forever changed under its endless canopy of stars.

Mihir's fingers curled around hers, pulling her hand up to press a slow, lingering kiss against her knuckles. "Good decision, Miss Rajput," he murmured, his lips brushing her skin, making her shiver.

Vanya let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "You really think I'd say no?"

Mihir smirked. "I had my doubts. You enjoy keeping me on edge.

She tilted her head, arching a brow. "You deserve it."

His hands found her waist, pulling her closer. "And you deserve this," he murmured before leaning in, his forehead resting against hers.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The stars above them flickered like silent witnesses, the cool breeze carrying the weight of unspoken emotions between them.

Then, out of nowhere, Mihir again. "You do realize what's next, right?"

Vanya raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

He leaned in, voice dropping to a low whisper. "Shaadi. Planning. Family drama. Maybe even-" he paused smirked for effect, "-matching outfits."

Vanya choked, laughing as she lightly smacked his arm. "Mihir, shut up."

But as she looked at him, standing there with that mix of mischief and something deeper in his eyes, she realized-there was no one else she'd rather walk this journey with.

___________________________

OMG, he finally proposed?! Well, well... if you thought things were intense till now, buckle up because the next two chapters are about to set everything on fire! You won't just read them-you'll feel them.

Any favorite scene or dialogue from this chapter? Drop it in the comments-I'm dying to know what hit you .

And hey, don't be a silent reader. Like, comment, and share with your fellow dark romance lovers. Your engagement keeps this world alive, and trust me, you don't want to miss what's coming next.

See you soon! Happy reading & stay obsessed! ✨🔥

Little hint_ someone is coming in next chapter 👀✨😁

Baharo phool barasoo. 🌺🧘🏻

~ Radya