Marriage didn’t tame them.
Marriage ignited them.

Reyansh Nanda and Serena Kapoor-Nanda were two storms who learned how to share a sky—
And somehow, it worked.

MORNING FIRE

The world believed Rey woke up at 5 AM because he was disciplined.

The truth?

He woke up because his wife slept like a royal menace—
one leg across his waist,
her hair all over his chest,
her hand in a fist around his shirt.

Every morning began with her stealing his T-shirt and walking around their penthouse like she owned the sun.

“Give that back,” he’d demand.

“No,” she’d reply sweetly, sipping coffee in his shirt.

He’d stalk toward her—slow, dangerous.

“Serena.”

“Reyansh.”

And he’d steal a kiss.

Then another.

Then the coffee cup.

She never complained.

WORKPLACE TROUBLE

Titan Tech was not prepared for a married Reyansh Nanda.

Especially when his wife walked into his boardroom in a black pantsuit that tested his remaining sanity.

Every. Single. Time.

She’d whisper something in his ear—business related, completely innocent—
And Rey would grip her waist like a man fighting for control.

Sometimes she sat beside him.
Sometimes across from him.
Sometimes—

“Serena,” he warned one afternoon, “stop looking at me like that during a meeting.”

“Like what?” she asked innocently.

“Like you know exactly what you’re doing.”

She smirked.

The board members quietly excused themselves within seconds.

No one wanted to witness the consequences of that smirk.

SILK & FIRE

Nights were quieter.

Their room became a world of silk sheets, low laughs, stolen breaths, whispered apologies, fierce promises.

Serena was bold—
bold enough to challenge him, tease him, kiss him breathless.

Rey was dominant—
dominant enough to melt when she touched him with softness.

They weren’t perfect.

They fought.

A lot.

She once threw a pillow at him during an argument.
He caught it mid-air and smirked.

She hated that smirk.

Five minutes later, she wasn’t arguing anymore.

BROKEN PLACES

Marriage reveals things dating never does.

Serena discovered the truth first.

Rey slept lightly—
never fully resting, never fully safe.

One night, she woke to find him sitting awake again, staring at the window.

“Nightmare?” she asked softly.

“No,” he lied.

She sat behind him, wrapped her arms around him, and placed her cheek on his shoulder.

“No more pretending,” she whispered.

The king crumbled.
Just enough for her to hold him.

Rey discovered her truth the next morning.

“Serena,” he asked gently at breakfast, “who is Dev?”

Her spoon froze.
“I said that?”

“You whispered it,” he said softly. “In your sleep.”

She swallowed.

“He was… the one who hurt me.”

Rey didn’t say a word after that.

He just held her hand the entire day.
Even in the elevator.
Even during a meeting.
Even on a conference call with Tokyo.

HOME

They became each other’s calm.

Serena softened him—
taught him how to laugh, how to breathe, how to sleep.

Rey steadied her—
taught her how to trust, how to rest, how to feel safe.

Their marriage wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.

Fire and silk.
Dominance and equality.
Two broken souls piecing each other together.

And every night before they fell asleep—
Serena curled against him, Rey’s hand tangled in her hair—
They whispered the same thing:

“I’m home.”

Not the penthouse.
Not the empire.

Each other.