MasukDanelle McKenzie is a very grumpy,cold , arrogant and self-centred intersexual female..She is a very rich woman and a well know business tycoon, owning various businesses including restaurants ,hotels , modelling agency just to name the few..She is still single even at the age of 33 because she simply thinks that love doesn't exist and her past is what led her to be the way she was today.. On the other hand ,we have Anushka Malhotra ,a young Indian woman who is very shy ,kind , respectful ,free spirited and very beautiful..She lives with her father and brother at a small colony..They don't have money but they are trying to survive with the little they have each and every day..She is doing her last year in a local college and she is looking forward to graduate and find herself a good paying job so she could help in providing for her family.. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THEIR FIRST ENCOUNTER STARTS ON A BAD FOOT...WILL THEY EVER GET ALONG OR WILL THEIR DIFFERENCES PREVAIL?
Lihat lebih banyakAuthor’s Note!❤️ Hi! You made it. You really made it. First of all, THANK YOU for reading all the way through. Whether you binged this at 3 a.m. under your blanket or kept up with every update like a loyal legend, I’m sending you the biggest virtual hug. This story means so much to me. It’s about love. The kind that isn’t always easy, or perfect, or what you expected—but the kind that’s real. The kind you choose over and over again. If this story touched you, made you cry, made you laugh, or made you yell at your screen—same. 😭😂 So whether you're a McKenzie, an Anushka, a Reyan, or someone still figuring it all out—thank you for being here. I see you. And I love you for it. — [Rae] 🤍
18 Years Later... The house was quiet in that way Anushka had come to treasure—full of life, yet settled. Afternoon light poured in through the tall windows, casting a soft glow over the framed photographs on the hallway wall. She stood in front of one in particular—the one with the garland. Her father, frozen in time, smiling in his signature crisp white kurta, the corner of his eyes crinkled in amusement. A marigold mala had been laid gently across the top of the frame. It had been five years since he passed. She reached up, adjusting one of the garlands so it sat straighter, her fingers brushing against the cool glass. A breath caught in her throat, the kind that never really left. “I hope you see her,” she whispered. “I hope you’re watching.” The front door creaked open and a burst of laughter spilled in—sharp, bright, unmistakably theirs. McKenzie entered first, hair pulled back into a messy bun, basketball tucked under one arm. She kicked off her sneakers without breakin
ANUSHKA’S POV The world looked different on the day we brought him home. I noticed things I hadn’t noticed before—how blue the sky really was, how warm sunlight could feel even through car windows, how every red light felt like an eternity when you had a six-pound miracle in the backseat. McKenzie drove like a retired Formula One driver, one hand tight on the wheel, the other hovering like a shield near Reyan’s carrier. “No one’s even close to us,” I murmured with a smile. “Not taking chances,” she muttered, eyes sharp in the rearview mirror. “These streets are full of amateurs.” I turned to look at him. Our son. Bundled in white, cheeks pink, his head swaying slightly with each bump in the road. His mouth puckered in sleepy protest, his tiny fist peeking out from the wrap like a question mark. Everything in me softened again. My body was sore. My back ached. My stitches tugged every time I breathed too hard—but none of that mattered. Not when he sighed like that. Not
The keys hit the marble floor with a metallic clatter. "Where are the damn keys?" Danelle muttered, half-shouting, as she scrambled across the foyer in bare feet, heart thundering. "I'm fine!" Anushka insisted from the doorway, one hand bracing her belly, the other clutching Aunt Pooja's arm. "It's just a slow trickle. Not a flood." "It's your water breaking, Anushka, not a spilled glass of juice!" Danelle shouted back, finally snatching the keys from under the entryway bench. Her hands were shaking. Karina's voice floated in from upstairs: "Grab the overnight bag! It's in the closet near the nursery!" "I packed it three weeks ago!" Danelle yelled, halfway to the garage now. Anushka groaned, waddling after her with the kind of grace only a nine-months-pregnant woman on the brink of labor could possess. Aunt Pooja jogged beside her, heels clicking. "Did you call the hospital?" Danelle shouted from the car: "I'm calling on the way!" By the time the SUV pulled out of
A few days later... The courtyard of the McKenzie mansion had been transformed into something between a prayer and a dream. Bright marigolds cascaded from the pillars in thick orange garlands, swaying gently in the breeze. Strings of jasmine curled around golden mandap arches, their scent sweet and heady. Clay incense holders released delicate tendrils of sandalwood smoke into the warm afternoon air, mingling with the soft sounds of veena music drifting in the background. At the heart of it all sat Anushka. She was draped in a deep wine-red silk saree, the borders glimmering with antique zari embroidery. Her bare belly—round, full, and radiant—was gently encircled by a soft golden waistband. Bangles shimmered on both arms, her wrists a medley of green, gold, and red. Around her neck sat an heirloom temple choker, heavy with history, and in her coiled bun, tiny strings of fresh mogra flowers peeked through. A red bindi, centered perfectly between her brows, glowed like a third eye u
DANELLE’S POV Four months later..... The double doors of the conference room clicked shut behind me as I exhaled the kind of breath that only quarterly board meetings could suck out of your lungs. “Great job in there, ma’am,” James said, falling into step beside me, his tablet balanced like an extra limb. I gave him a nod, loosening the button on my blazer. “Tell legal I want the paperwork for the Oakland merger on my desk by five. And no spin—just the raw draft. I’ll redline it myself.” “Yes, ma’am. And the delegation from Lagos rescheduled—they’re flying in next Friday.” “Book the suite at the Peninsula for them. Full hospitality.” “Already done.” "Good." The elevator dinged, and we stepped out onto the executive floor—quiet, carpeted and pulsing with the low hum of power that only the top tier ever heard. James kept pace beside me, flipping through his digital calendar. “Also, I confirmed the Q3 audit with Price & Knox. They’re sending someone senior this time,
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