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Aaravika
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The engine purred as the car glided to a stop before the towering gates of the Chandravansh haveli, its grandeur suffocating in the dying light of the evening. My glare at Vayran Singh Chandravansh was sharp, unforgiving. The audacity he had to drive like a maniac, as if my life wasn’t precarious enough already.

"I know I look good," his voice cut through my thoughts, smooth and insufferably arrogant, "You don’t need to make it so obvious."

I snapped back, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "Who’s keeping you in this delusion?"

His smirk was the kind that could ignite tempers and set hearts racing all at once. Annoyed, I turned my gaze outside, refusing to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome he actually was. Why was I even admitting this? The man had nearly killed me on the road.

The gates creaked open, and my breath hitched. The haveli loomed before us, colossal and ancient, a living testament to the Chandravansh family's infamous legacy. Asia had whispered tales of this family, their power and wealth as intoxicating as they were terrifying. But my awe was short-lived when I noticed the crowd of reporters swarming like vultures.

I turned to Vayran, bewildered, as realization dawned in his sharp gaze. His tone was clipped, authoritative, "Behave like a couple. Agar unhe yeh pata chala ki yeh sirf ek contract hai, toh kal ki headlines ban jayengi." (Behave like a couple. If they find out this is just a contract, it’ll be tomorrow’s headline.)

I rolled my eyes but kept quiet. Soon, we arrived at the grand entrance, and as I adjusted my veil, the weight of the lehenga and jewelry tugged at my patience. It felt as if I was carrying an entire army’s worth of armor.

Just as I reached for the car door, Vayran’s hand shot out, gripping my arm. "Tumhe bhoolne ki bimari hai kya? Maine kaha tha—act like a couple," (Do you have a habit of forgetting things? I just told you—act like a couple) he growled.

My frustration flared, and I snapped back, "Toh tum kya macchar maar rahe ho? Jaldi darwaza kholo!" (Then what are you doing, swatting mosquitoes? Open the door quickly!)

His glare darkened, a storm gathering in his eyes that made my pulse quicken. But I held my ground, though my insides squirmed. He finally opened the door and extended his hand. I hesitated but accepted, knowing the media’s eyes were glued to us.

The welcome was grand, the kind that would intimidate even the gods. As we stepped inside, his mother approached, her eyes scanning me critically but with a forced warmth. "Aaravika, beta, welcome. I hope the journey wasn’t too tiring," she said with a firm yet slightly taunting tone.

"It was fine, aunty—I mean, maa," I corrected myself hastily, glancing at Vayran, who raised an amused eyebrow.

"We have traditions to follow," she continued, gesturing toward the doorway. A kalash was placed before me, alongside a kumkum-dipped plate. "Beta, lightly kick the kalash and step forward with your right foot first."

I did as instructed, my nerves fraying with every step. The weight of their eyes, the grandeur of the rituals—it all felt like a noose tightening around my neck.

As we moved deeper into the haveli, the whispers of the family surrounded us like a storm. Once inside the temple, my breath caught again. The idols of Radha and Krishna stood magnificently adorned, their presence radiating peace and authority. For a moment, I forgot everything, murmuring to them under my breath, “You both look so good. Nazar na lag jaye.” (May no evil eye befall you.) Quietly, I gestured to ward off the evil eye before bowing in reverence.

After the blessings, the family gathered again. Vayran’s father, his voice deep and authoritative, spoke up, "It’s past midnight, and everyone is tired. We will continue the remaining rituals tomorrow morning. For now, you both can have dinner if you’re hungry."

"Yes, everyone should rest," his mother added, her eyes rolled as she looked at me. "It’s been a long day."

She is so weird, I think the whole family except dadasa, everyone are cold looks like everyone were born at winter season.

With that, the family began to disperse, leaving us alone. I moved to leave, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of my attire, when I noticed something amiss—my anklet. One of the golden anklets was gone. Panic swirled inside me as I scanned the temple floor. It was a family heirloom, and losing it here, on my first day, would be disastrous.

Desperately, I began searching, ignoring Vayran’s probing gaze. I could feel him watching, a predator assessing its prey.

"Looking for this?" His deep voice made me freeze. Turning, I found him holding the anklet, his expression unreadable.

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Byeᥫ᭡

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗