Mr. & Mrs. Singh

The child padded into the kitchen, glimmering crown on her head and beloved toy sword at her hip.

Her mother was sharpening a wicked-looking knife while her father examined a large jewel.

"Mommy, how did you meet daddy?" she asked bluntly, unperturbed.

Her mother smiled. "We met... on a road trip.” She looked at her husband fondly, remembering.

***

"Floor it."

Stella gunned the car away from the museum. She glanced at the man beside her, taking in his mussed hair and mischievous grin. "I'm Stella.”

"I know, I hired you."

"My contractor doesn't give names,” she said, checking her mirrors.

“I do my research, especially if I'm taking the Rajmata crown jewel."

"The what?" She hissed, as three black SUVs peeled out behind them. “Of everything to steal—” They jerked forward as they were rammed from behind. "Hold on," she grunted, abruptly swinging into an alleyway.

He looked at her admiringly. “Not stealing—reestablishing with its rightful owner.”

“I know you aren’t royalty, Kamal. That doesn’t belong to you either.” This acid remark didn’t seem to decrease his delight.

“Funny, I didn’t give my name either.”

A van smashed their side.

"Dinner, this Friday?" He asked, righting himself.

Situation aside, she felt a thrill. "Not on this continent.”