Abhay and Armaan exchanged glances, their expressions caught between amusement and disbelief.
"Boo Berry?" Tanisha repeated, then burst out laughing. "That's the most ridiculous name I've ever heard for a killing machine."
"It's a stupid name," Saroj said, frowning.
"It's perfect," Shaurya countered, grinning at Nimisha. "How long have you been calling him that, bhabhi?"
"I haven't—"
Bruno sat down beside her chair with a heavy thump, his tail giving one deliberate thump against the floor.
The traitor.
"Oh my god," Tanisha said, staring at the dog. "Bruno actually likes it. He likes the name."
"Impossible," Kritika said, though she was looking at Nimisha with something like confusion. "Bruno doesn't even like me, and I've known him since he was a puppy."
"Animals know who feeds them," Saroj said dismissively. "Nimisha probably sneaks him treats."
"I don't—"
"Can we return to dinner?" Raghbir interrupted, his tone making it clear the topic was closed. "I'd like to hear more about your business, Kabir."
The conversation shifted mercifully back to safer topics—Kabir's investment strategies, Tanisha's work with her NGO, the upcoming charity gala.
Nimisha tried to focus on her food, but she was acutely aware of multiple things:
Samarth's gaze returning to her periodically, assessing.
Bruno's solid presence beside her chair, a barrier between her and Kabir.
Kabir's foot sliding along the floor beneath the table.
When his shoe brushed against her ankle, she froze.
It could have been accidental. The table was large, but feet got tangled sometimes.
Except he didn't pull away.
His foot pressed slightly against hers, a deliberate touch hidden beneath the tablecloth and polite dinner conversation.
Nimisha pulled her foot back sharply, tucking both feet beneath her chair.
Bruno's growl was so low, she almost thought she'd imagined it. But the dog's body had gone rigid, his attention fixed on Kabir with an intensity that promised violence.
Only she seemed to hear it. Everyone else was absorbed in the discussion about the gala.
"The venue is already booked," Kritika was saying, her tone excited. "The Grand Taj ballroom. We're expecting over three hundred guests."
"Nimisha should help with the planning," Raghbir said. "She's part of the family. She should be involved."
Saroj's lips thinned. "Of course. Though Kritika has been managing our charitable events for years. She knows all the vendors, all the expectations."
"I'm happy to help in any way I can," Nimisha said quietly.
"You could handle the seating arrangements," Kritika suggested kindly. "That would free up Maa and me to focus on the entertainment and auction items."
Seating arrangements. The most tedious, least important task. Of course.
