CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: WHAT IF HE FOUND IT?
The low hum of the engine filled the car, blending with the faint sounds of city life outside, horns, laughter, and the whisper of the evening breeze. The orange hue of the setting sun spilled through the windshield, casting a golden glow over Aryan’s sharp jawline and Priya’s delicate face.
Aryan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles paling as his thoughts swirled. He glanced sideways at her, the woman sitting quietly beside him, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, pretending to admire the sunset.
“Riya,” he began, his voice calm but edged with unease, “can you tell me what truth he was talking about?”
Priya’s pulse quickened, but she forced a small, casual smile. Turning slightly toward him, she replied, “I also don’t know what he was talking about.” Her tone was light, too light. But her eyes betrayed her; they flickered away too quickly, landing on the passing city lights outside the window.
Aryan’s brow furrowed. The faintest crease appeared between his brows as he said, “If it’s not like that, then… what was the need for him to say that?” His tone grew heavier, not angry, but probing, trying to find a truth that refused to surface.
Riya turned her head back toward him. Her face softened, eyes big and glassy under the golden light. “I don’t know,” she murmured again, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. She tilted her head, giving him that innocent, almost childlike look that always melted him.
Aryan sighed, his shoulders sagging with the weight of frustration. The sound of his breath filled the space between them. “I don’t know which one of you is telling the truth,” he said quietly, his tone caught between doubt and exhaustion.
Her expression faltered. “So you mean you don’t trust me?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly, as if the words themselves hurt to say.
His jaw tightened. “When did I say that?” he snapped, his voice rising involuntarily, frustration spilling out like water from a cracked dam.
Riya’s eyes flashed, confusion and hurt mixing into one. “Then what do you want to say?” she asked, turning fully to face him now. The air inside the car felt thick, charged with emotions neither could control.
Suddenly, Aryan pulled the car to the side of the road. The engine idled softly as he turned toward her, his face unreadable at first. Then his tone changed, softer, steady.
“I don’t know anything about your life,” he said quietly, “except your name. But…” His words faltered as he reached out, taking her hands gently in his. His touch was warm, hesitant, yet full of emotion. “But still, I believe in you. And I want you to keep one thing in mind, never do anything that’ll affect our relationship, because… now I don’t want to lose you.”
Riya blinked, her heart skipping a beat. “Lose… me…” she repeated slowly, the words barely a whisper, her voice trembling with disbelief.
Aryan looked straight into her eyes, the kind of gaze that strips away all pretense. “Hmm,” he said softly. Then, with a breath that carried both courage and vulnerability, he confessed, “I don’t know how you’ll feel after hearing this, but… Riya, I love you.”
The world seemed to still. The noise of traffic faded into a distant hum.
Riya’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her cheeks turned crimson, and her eyes glimmered with surprise, and something deeper, something unspoken. She looked down shyly, a small, involuntary smile tugging at her lips.
Aryan couldn’t help but smile too. The tension between them dissolved into something tender, something real.
“I’m not in a hurry to hear your reply,” he said softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You can tell me whenever you want.”
She nodded slowly, still unable to meet his eyes, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.
Aryan released her hand and started the car again. The city lights stretched ahead, painting streaks of gold across the windshield. Neither spoke for the rest of the drive, but the silence between them wasn’t empty anymore.
It was warm. Peaceful. Hopeful.
Two hearts that had once collided by chance… were now quietly, unknowingly, beginning to align.
The house was quiet, almost too quiet. The faint ticking of the wall clock echoed softly in the background, blending with the rhythmic rustle of turning pages.
Priya sat cross-legged on the bed, lost in her book. The soft amber light from the bedside lamp fell across her face, highlighting the gentle curve of her cheek and the calm glimmer in her eyes. The rest of the room was cloaked in shadows, peaceful yet alive with the quiet hum of emotions left unsaid.
Across the room, Aryan lay on the couch, one arm draped over his forehead, his mind replaying every word from the car ride, “Riya, I love you.”
The confession still lingered in the air like the faint scent of rain after a storm.
Breaking the silence, Aryan called out, his voice low but steady, “Riya, please turn off the light. I want to sleep.”
Priya looked up from her book, a playful glint flickering in her eyes. She tilted her head slightly and smirked. “You can sleep on the bed if you want,” she said, teasingly, her tone light yet laced with something deeper, something inviting.
Aryan propped himself up on one elbow, caught off guard by her sudden warmth. “Are you kidding with me, right?” he asked, his lips curving into a disbelieving smile.
But her expression softened into sincerity. “No, I’m serious.”
For a heartbeat, he just stood there, frozen between surprise and wonder. His heart thudded against his chest as he slowly rose from the couch. The distance between them felt charged, as though every step he took was pulling him closer not just physically, but emotionally.
“Wait…” he murmured, his voice low, trembling slightly. “Is…” He stopped midway, searching her eyes for an answer. “What I’m thinking… it’s true?”
Her eyes shimmered, reflecting both amusement and affection. “And what are you thinking?” she asked, her voice barely audible, soft as a whisper yet laced with anticipation.
He took another step closer. The glow from the lamp wrapped them both in warmth. The air between them thickened, alive with unspoken words.
“Is it your reply?” he asked finally, his tone gentle, vulnerable.
Priya’s heart fluttered. She could feel her pulse quicken, her breath hitch. Slowly, she leaned forward, her lips brushing softly against his in a fleeting, tender kiss.
As she pulled back, her face flushed and her eyes glowed with a mix of shyness and love. In a breathless whisper, she said, “I love you.”
For a moment, Aryan just stared, stunned, overwhelmed, and utterly enchanted. Then his expression broke into the kind of smile that reaches the eyes. “I Love you too,” he whispered back, his voice rich with emotion.
He cupped her face gently, closing the remaining distance between them. Their lips met again, this time with all the pent-up affection and tenderness that had been building between them for weeks.
He climbed into bed beside her and gently pulled her into his arms, holding her close as though he had finally found the place where she belonged. A soft laugh escaped her lips, warm and filled with happiness, because somewhere along the way, the contract they had once treated as nothing more than an arrangement had quietly turned into something neither of them could imagine living without.
“No more sleeping apart, ever,” he murmured, his voice carrying a playful yet unmistakably sincere promise.
She laughed again, resting her head against his chest. For a moment, she simply listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, letting the warmth of his embrace sink into her. There was something comforting about being held by him now.
He wrapped his arms more securely around her, his heartbeat noticeably faster than usual. A soft chuckle escaped him as he looked down at her.
“I’ve been in love with you since the day I hired you… You just had no idea because I was pretending to be busy at work.”
She lifted her head slightly, looking at him with surprise, as if she were still trying to believe that the man who had once seemed so distant had been hiding such feelings all along.
He smiled at her reaction and gently pressed a kiss against her forehead.
“Our marriage just got a lot more real, doesn’t it?”
She couldn’t help but smile. The words made her heart flutter, especially because there was no longer any uncertainty behind them. What had started as a contract had slowly become a relationship built on genuine affection, trust, and feelings neither of them had expected to develop.
He looked down at her with a soft, affectionate smile, his fingers gently running through her hair.
“You know what this means, right?” he asked, his voice teasing as his eyes remained fixed on hers. “You’re officially my wife in every sense of the word.”
Before she could respond, he leaned forward and kissed her nose playfully.
She smiled and snuggled closer to him, feeling completely safe within the warmth of his arms. He gently tilted her chin upward until their eyes met again, and the playful expression on his face slowly faded into something much more sincere.
“I didn’t just propose to you for the contract,” he said quietly. “I proposed because I couldn’t imagine my life without you anymore.”
His voice was low, but every word carried the weight of a confession he had perhaps been holding inside for far too long.
“You’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Aryan.”
Her smile widened, and she could feel her heart filling with a happiness she had never imagined finding in a marriage that had begun without love. She reached up and touched his face gently, her eyes reflecting the same affection he had been showing her.
He leaned down and kissed her again, the gesture tender and lingering, filled with the quiet intimacy of two people who no longer needed to pretend that their feelings were part of a contract.
When he pulled back, he kept his forehead close to hers, his gaze softening as he looked at her.
“Mine,” he whispered affectionately, a teasing possessiveness evident in his voice. “All mine.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the seriousness with which he said it.
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as though he wanted to keep her beside him for the rest of the night.
“My wife,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss against her neck.
She giggled, her cheeks warming at his repeated possessive words. Seeing her reaction, a satisfied smirk appeared on his face, clearly pleased that he had managed to make her shy.
“Get used to it, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers gently tracing patterns along her arm. “I’m possessive, and I don’t share.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, but the smile on her face gave away how much she loved hearing him say it.
His fingers slowly moved to her hip, gripping possessively. He pulled her even closer, so there was no space between them. Knew that she weren’t experienced, he knew she were innocent and he loved that.
He bent down to her neck again, placing soft kisses and tender bites, marking her softly. His fingers on her hip slowly moved lower, caressing her thigh possessively. He pulled her leg up around his waist unconsciously, pulling her flush against his lower body. “Mine,” he muttered again.
Her breath hitched and she could feel how hard he was against her. He groaned softly at her reaction. “You feel that?” he whispered against her neck. “That’s what you do to me. Every damn day.” His hand moved higher on her thigh, the fabric of her sleep shorts the only thing separating his skin from her.
He started kissing her neck more fervently, his teeth nipping gently. His hand moved higher, gripping her bottom possessively. He squeezed gently, pulling her even closer against his hardness. she gasped softly, her eyes fluttering closed. “So innocent,” he whispered, his voice filled with love and desire.
He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes with intense desire. His breathing was heavy. “You’re finally mine, and I’m going to show you exactly what that means.”
He captured her lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue pushing into her mouth possessively. His hand moved from her hip to her bottom, lifting her slightly as he rolled on top of her. He broke the kiss briefly to pull his shirt off over his head, revealing his muscular chest.
He looked down at her, his hair messy from pulling off his shirt. She could see the definition of his abs and the V of his hips disappearing into his low-slung pajama pants. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve imagined this,”
He leaned down, his lips finding her collarbone, kissing and sucking softly. His hands moved to the hem of her sleep shirt, slowly pulling it up. “Arms up, baby,” he whispered against her skin. He needed to feel her, skin to skin. He’d fantasized about this for months.
She raised her arms hesitantly, letting him pull her sleep shirt off. He threw it to the floor and just stared at her for a moment, taking in her bare breasts. He growled possessively, leaning down to capture one nipple in his mouth while his hand cupped the other breast. “Mine,”
The night passed with him worshipping every inch of her body. He took his time, exploring her like he’d been waiting years to do so. His kisses were soft and gentle one moment, passionate and demanding the next. He spent hours between her thighs, showing her pleasure she never knew existed.
By the time the first rays of sunlight began slipping through the curtains, the room had fallen completely quiet. The soft golden light spread across the bed, illuminating the tangled sheets and the two figures resting beneath them.
Priya lay peacefully in Aryan’s arms, her head nestled against his chest, completely exhausted after the emotional intensity of the night. His arm remained wrapped securely around her waist, as though even in sleep he was reluctant to let her drift too far away.
When she finally stirred late that morning, she slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the brightness filtering through the curtains. For a few seconds, she simply stared ahead, still caught between sleep and reality.
Then she felt the warmth beside her.
Aryanwas already awake.
He was lying on his side, quietly watching her with a soft, affectionate smile. There was something almost peaceful in his expression, as if simply seeing her beside him was enough to make his morning complete.
“Good morning, Mrs. Aryan,” he whispered.
Priya’s lips curved into a sleepy smile.
“Mmm, good morning.”
She stretched lazily beneath the blanket before settling back against him. Her movements were slow and tired, and the exhaustion from the previous night was still evident in her expression.
Aryan immediately noticed.
A quiet chuckle escaped him as his arm tightened gently around her waist, drawing her closer.
“Sleep well, sweetheart?”
She gave him a small nod, her sleepy expression making him smile even more.
“You must be tired,” he murmured.
He gently brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek for a moment. His expression softened as he looked at her, the playful confidence from the night before replaced by something much warmer.
“I kept you up way too late.”
Priya buried her face slightly against his chest, embarrassed by his teasing.
Arayan laughed softly and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
His gaze briefly moved toward the faint marks left on her skin, and his expression turned teasing again.
“I definitely made sure you wouldn’t forget last night.”
Priya immediately looked at him with a shy, almost embarrassed expression.
He smiled at her reaction and pulled the blanket a little higher around her shoulders, making sure she was comfortable.
Then he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss against her forehead.
There was no teasing in his voice this time.
Only affection.
“My wife.”
She smiled sleepily and snuggled closer to him, instinctively seeking the warmth of his body beneath the soft blankets. Aryan’s arms tightened around her, holding her as though he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon. He lowered his head and pressed a tender kiss to the top of her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.
“We should probably get up soon,” he murmured, though his voice carried absolutely no urgency. “Mom is going to wonder why we haven’t come down for breakfast.”
Despite saying that, he made no attempt to move.
Priya let out a quiet, sleepy giggle, her cheek resting comfortably against his chest. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, and somehow, that simple sound made her feel impossibly safe. Everything about the morning felt different now. They were no longer two people carefully learning where they stood with each other. They were husband and wife, waking up together for the first time with a new kind of closeness between them.
Aryan seemed to be enjoying that realization just as much as she was.
He groaned softly and buried his face against the curve of her neck, his warm breath making her shiver. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer.
“Five more minutes,” he mumbled sleepily. “Just five.”
Priya smiled, running her fingers gently through his messy hair. “You said that five minutes ago.”
“Then I need another five.”
She laughed under her breath. Aryan lifted his head just enough to press a lingering, affectionate kiss against her shoulder before resting his cheek there again. His touch was gentle and unhurried, nothing like the teasing confidence he usually carried.
“I just want to hold my wife a little longer,” he whispered.
The words made Priya’s cheeks warm.
She turned her face slightly toward him, her fingers continuing to comb through his disheveled hair. “You’re being unusually clingy this morning.”
“I’m allowed to be.” He looked up at her with a sleepy smile. “I’m newly married.”
That made her laugh again.
Eventually, though, Aryan forced himself to sit up. He brought the blanket with him, carefully keeping it wrapped around Priya so she remained covered. His gaze softened as he looked at her, taking in her sleepy expression and tousled hair.
“You look adorable,” he murmured.
“I probably look terrible.”
“You don’t.”
Before she could argue, he leaned down and kissed her softly. It was brief but filled with the kind of tenderness that made her stomach flutter.
“Come on, Mrs. Aryan,” he said, his lips curving into a teasing smile. “Let’s get you dressed before my mother comes upstairs looking for us.”
Priya immediately pulled the blanket closer around herself and gave him a small pout. “I don’t want to get up.”
Aryan laughed.
“No more sleepy face.”
“But I’m tired.”
“I know.”
He leaned down again and kissed her pout, making her eyes widen in surprise.
“Still have to get up.”
He stood and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt before turning back toward the bed. Priya was still sitting there beneath the blanket, looking far too comfortable to even consider moving. Aryan shook his head affectionately.
“Come here.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he bent down and scooped her effortlessly into his arms.
“Aryan!”
She let out a surprised little laugh, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Put me down!”
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He adjusted her carefully against his chest and glanced at her with an amused smile.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?”
Priya sighed dramatically and buried her face against his chest. “Mhm.”
“Then I’ll carry you.”
His voice softened as he pressed a kiss against her hair.
“You can sleep on my shoulder while I make sure you’re presentable for my mom.”
Priya’s protests disappeared almost immediately. She tightened her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder, allowing herself to relax in his embrace.
Aryan smiled to himself.
“Hey, no hiding.”
“Mhm?”
“You’re supposed to wake up.”
“I am awake.”
“You’re definitely not.”
She only hummed in response.
Aryan chuckled as he carried her toward the bedroom door. He opened it carefully with his shoulder and stepped into the hallway, making sure she was securely held against him.
The quiet morning sounds of the house slowly became clearer as they made their way downstairs.
By the time they reached the kitchen, Mrs. Khurana was already there, sitting with a cup of coffee in her hands. She looked up at the sound of footsteps.
Her eyes widened slightly when she saw her son walking into the kitchen with Priya comfortably curled up in his arms.
Priya lifted her head from Aryan’s shoulder and immediately looked at her mother-in-law.
“Mom,” she complained sleepily, pointing accusingly at Aryan. “Look at him. He refuses to put me down.”
Mrs. Khurrana stared at the two of them for a moment before a knowing smile slowly spread across her face.
“Well, looking at the two of you,” she teased, glancing at Priya’s messy hair and then at the faint marks visible along her neck, “I think my son has finally realized that he’s actually married.”
Priya’s cheeks instantly turned crimson.
“Mom!”
Aryan, however, looked completely unashamed. If anything, his grin widened as he tightened his hold around his wife.
“She’s tired, Mom.”
“I can see that, sweetheart.”
Mrs. Khurana looked at Priya with an amused glint in her eyes.
“All that exercise last night must have worn you out.”
Priya’s eyes widened, and her entire face went red.
Aryan’s ears turned pink.
“Mom…”
Mrs. Khurana simply laughed, clearly enjoying his embarrassment.
“Go on, Aryan. Put your wife down so she can eat something.”
Aryan hesitated.
“I could feed her while she sits on my lap.”
His mother stared at him.
“She needs a proper breakfast, not to be treated like a baby.”
Aryan pouted, but he finally gave in. He carefully lowered Priya into one of the chairs before pulling another chair beside hers.
He didn’t sit across from her.
Instead, he positioned himself right beside her, his hand settling comfortably on her thigh as though even a few inches of distance were unacceptable.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m sitting here.”
Mrs. Khurana shook her head affectionately and placed a plate of toast and eggs in front of Priya.
“Thank you,” Priya said softly.
She picked up her fork, but before she could take a bite, Aryan reached for a piece of toast.
“Open up, baby.”
Priya looked at him incredulously.
“Aryan, I can feed myself.”
“I know.”
He held the toast closer.
“But let me spoil you.”
A shy smile appeared on her lips despite herself, and she finally opened her mouth.
Mrs. Khurana watched the entire exchange with an affectionate smile.
“My little boy is finally grown up,” she said. “Now he has someone else to spoil instead of me.”
Aryan grinned proudly as he fed Priya another bite. Once she had swallowed, he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss against her temple.
“I’m a good husband, right?” he whispered, making sure only Priya could hear.
She glanced at him, her smile growing.
“You’re trying very hard to be.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Mrs. Khurana laughed softly from across the table before looking at her son more carefully.
“You’re definitely a good son,” she said. “But tell me something, Aryan. Why the sudden change in behavior?”
Aryan’s smile faded into something softer. He looked down at Priya, his hand still placed securely on her thigh. For a moment, he seemed to think about the question. Then he shrugged.
“I guess having a beautiful wife to care for changes a man.”
His mother raised an eyebrow.
“It’s more than that.”
“Mom…”
There was a gentle warning in his voice, but there was no real irritation behind it. Mrs. Khurana waited. Aryan looked at Priya again. His expression changed completely. There was something peaceful in his eyes now, something that hadn’t been there before.
“You know why,” he said quietly. “I finally feel… complete.”
Priya’s fingers stilled around her fork.
Aryan gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
“For the first time, all that protectiveness, all that need to make sure the person I love is safe… it has somewhere to belong.” His thumb moved softly across her cheek. “It doesn’t feel like insecurity anymore.”
He smiled faintly. “It’s love.”
Mrs. Khurana’s teasing expression softened. “I see that.”
Priya looked down shyly, her heart swelling at his words.
Aryan leaned toward her and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed gently over her cheek.
“I’ll be home late tonight,” he murmured apologetically.
Priya’s expression immediately turned slightly concerned.
“Why?”
“Important meeting.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Oh… okay.”
She gave him a small, shy smile. Aryan leaned down and kissed her once more, this time quickly, before placing one final kiss against her forehead.
“Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
He stood and reached for his suit jacket, slipping it over his shoulders before checking himself briefly. Then he walked over to his mother and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
“Take care of my wife for me, Mom.”
Mrs. Kim smiled. “I will. Go before you’re late.”
Aryan gave Priya one last affectionate look before finally heading toward the door. Priya watched him leave, her fingers unconsciously touching the spot on her forehead where his last kiss had landed.
The moment the door closed behind him, the kitchen fell quiet again.
Mrs. Khurana looked at her daughter-in-law. Priya looked back. And judging by the amused smile slowly appearing on her mother-in-law’s face, she knew their conversation was far from over.
The bright studio lights flickered to life once again as the crew prepared for another long day of shooting. The air buzzed with chatter, costume designers adjusting clothes, cameramen testing angles, and Jully giving out last-minute instructions.
Priya walked in quietly, her usual cheerful energy replaced by a calm composure. Dressed in a soft pastel outfit, she looked radiant, but her eyes, usually bright with friendly warmth, seemed distant. She greeted a few crew members with a polite smile and made her way to the makeup chair, avoiding the corner where Jake was laughing with some technicians.
Jake noticed.
His laughter faded slightly as his eyes followed her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t even glance his way. Strange, he thought. Not even a ‘good morning’?
When the makeup artist finished, Jully called out, “Alright, Jake, Riya, get ready for the emotional reunion scene. Let’s make it natural.”
Priya nodded, adjusting her dupatta, and walked to her mark without looking at Jake. He joined her, forcing a grin. “Hey,” he said quietly, trying to catch her eye. “You’re ignoring me now?”
Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor. “I’m just focusing on the scene,” she replied, her tone neutral.
Jake frowned. “Since when do you need to avoid talking to me to focus?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, but with a hint of irritation underneath.
Before she could answer, Jully’s voice cut through the tension. “Action!”
Priya immediately slipped into character, her expression shifting into one of quiet sorrow as the camera rolled. Jake delivered his lines with practiced ease, but her restraint, her distance, felt too real. Every time his character moved closer, she instinctively took a step back, keeping space between them that wasn’t in the script.
“Cut!” Jully said, confused. “Riya, that was good, but in this scene, you’re supposed to look at him. It’s your first meeting after years, remember?”
“Sorry,” Priya said softly, forcing a smile. “I’ll do better.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. Something’s off. The way she avoided eye contact, the stiffness in her body, it wasn’t just acting. It was deliberate.
They tried the scene again.
“Action!”
This time, Jake reached out to touch her hand as the script demanded, but Priya instinctively pulled back, pretending it was part of the emotional beat. Jully frowned but didn’t stop the take, thinking she was improvising.
“Cut! Perfect,” Jully said finally, satisfied. “That hesitation actually worked beautifully for the scene. Keep that emotion next time too.”
Priya nodded silently and walked off set before Jake could say another word.
Jake’s jaw tightened as he watched her retreating figure. She’s avoiding me. Ever since that day. His hands clenched into fists. So it’s because of him.
He followed her with his gaze until she disappeared behind the dressing room door. A smirk crept across his lips, one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Fine, Priya,” he muttered under his breath. “You can avoid me all you want… but I’ll find out what changed you. Or I’ll change….”
After long, busy months filled with endless shoots, tight schedules, and late-night rehearsals, it was finally a peaceful morning. The soft hush of the early day filled the Khanna mansion, broken only by the gentle chirping of sparrows outside the window.
During all these months, Priya had managed to distance herself from Jake. On set, she avoided unnecessary conversations, and whenever she could, she brought Mrs. Khanna along. Her calm presence acted as a shield, one Jake didn’t dare cross. Slowly, the tension that once lingered between them began to fade into the background of her life.
Now, wrapped in the warmth of her blanket, Priya looked completely at peace, a rare sight after weeks of exhaustion. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, scattering golden light across the room. It glimmered over her face, highlighting her serene expression and the soft rise and fall of her breathing.
Aryan stood by the bed, his tie half-done, watching her with a small, amused smile. For a moment, he just admired her, her hair slightly messy, her face tucked halfway under the blanket, her lips curved in the faintest sleepy pout. Then, leaning closer, he gently shook her shoulder.
“Riya, wake up. It’s too late,” he said, his voice soft but insistent, a mix of affection and practicality.
She groaned in protest, her hand lazily brushing his away as she pulled the blanket over her head. “Let me sleep more,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the covers.
Aryan chuckled quietly. There was something irresistibly adorable about her stubbornness. He sat at the edge of the bed, his tone teasing now. “It’s too late, तदना… don’t you have any shoot today?”
Her sleepy voice floated from under the blanket. “No…” she replied, heavy with drowsiness.
He smiled at her innocence, the way she sounded like a child bargaining for five more minutes of sleep. “Okay, so you sleep,” he said softly, standing up and adjusting his watch. His tone turned tender as he leaned down and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. “I’m going to the office,” he added, and then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“Bye,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.
Even in her half-asleep state, Priya smiled faintly at the touch, her heart unknowingly fluttering at the small gesture. Aryan paused for a moment longer, watching her peaceful face, before quietly turning to leave.
As the door closed behind him, the room fell into silence again, the golden morning light wrapping Priya in a cocoon of warmth and calm. A soft smile lingered on her lips as she drifted back to sleep, completely unaware that somewhere in that simple morning routine, their bond had deepened a little more.
The morning had been peaceful, unusually so. Priya was sitting in the living room with Mrs. Khanna, the soft clink of teacups echoing between their quiet conversation. The scent of jasmine tea mingled with the faint aroma of the lilies Mrs. Khanna kept in a vase on the table. It was a rare moment of calm, a pocket of normalcy after months of emotional turbulence.
Priya smiled as Mrs. Khanna talked about mundane things, the cook’s new recipe, the color of the curtains, a new boutique opening nearby. It felt light, easy. For once, Priya wasn’t thinking about the set, Jake, or the tangled web of her lies.
Then, Ding Dong.
The sharp ring of the doorbell sliced through the tranquility like a blade. Priya’s smile faltered. She set her teacup down gently, the porcelain clinking against the saucer.
“I’ll get it,” she said, her tone casual though her heartbeat quickened for reasons she couldn’t explain.
As she walked to the door, the faint echo of her footsteps filled the hallway. She opened it, and froze.
Standing outside were several police officers. Their uniforms were crisp, their expressions grave. One of them stepped forward and held up his badge.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said formally.
Priya’s throat tightened. “What can I help you with, sir?” she asked, her voice polite but already trembling with unease.
The officer’s eyes didn’t waver. “Can I meet Mrs. Riya Khanna?” he asked, his tone professional but weighty, almost accusing.
Priya’s stomach dropped. A chill ran down her spine. “It’s me,” she managed to say, forcing her voice steady. “What do you need?”
“Can we sit inside and talk?” the officer asked.
Priya hesitated for a split second, searching his eyes for an explanation, then nodded. “Sure,” she said softly, stepping aside to let them in.
As they entered, Mrs. Khanna looked up in surprise, her brows furrowing. The air in the room thickened with tension.
“Officer, is everything okay?” Mrs. Khanna asked, her voice edged with concern.
The officer didn’t sugarcoat his response. “Maybe it’s not,” he said, his tone grim and final.
Mrs. Khanna’s teacup rattled slightly in her hand. “What do you mean?” she demanded, her voice rising with alarm.
The officer turned toward Priya, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “Mrs. Riya, are you from India?” he asked.
Priya swallowed hard. Her palms were sweating, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Can I see your documents and passport?” he asked, his tone firm, allowing no argument.
Priya’s fingers trembled. “Can you first tell me what’s going on here?” she asked, her anxiety bleeding through her words.
“First, show me your documents,” the officer insisted, his voice clipped and authoritative.
“But…” Priya began, her voice faltering under the weight of fear.
“Riya,” Mrs. Khanna interrupted firmly, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Priya’s heart sank. With a defeated sigh, she rose and walked toward her room, every step feeling heavier than the last. Inside, her hands shook as she opened her drawer and took out the documents, papers that suddenly felt like fragile evidence of a double life.
When she returned, she handed them over to the officer. “Here they are,” she said shakily, her voice breaking slightly.
The officer took them without a word and began flipping through them, his expression unreadable. The silence in the room was unbearable — heavy enough to crush.
“Now tell me, what happened?” Priya finally asked, her voice trembling.
Without hesitation, the officer looked up and said coldly, “Mrs. Riya, you are under arrest.”
The words struck like a thunderclap. Priya’s mind went blank. “What?” she gasped, her voice filled with disbelief.
Mrs. Khanna’s face turned red with fury. “What do you mean?” she demanded, rising from her seat.
The officer’s expression didn’t change. He gave a short nod to a female officer beside him. “Arrest her,” he ordered.
Priya’s eyes widened in horror as the female officer approached her with handcuffs. “But what is my crime?” she asked desperately, her voice rising in panic.
The officer’s reply was cold and precise, like a verdict. “Your crime is that you entered Paris with a fake identity… Miss Priya.”
For a moment, the world seemed to tilt. The room spun. The walls closed in. Priya stood frozen, her face pale, her breathing shallow. It felt like her entire life, every lie, every secret, was crashing down around her.
The metallic click of the handcuffs echoed in her ears, sounding like the end of everything she’d built.
Mrs. Khanna rushed forward, her voice breaking. “Officer, wait! We can sit and talk comfortably-”
“Whatever you want to discuss now will be done at the police station,” the officer interrupted sharply.
Tears welled in Priya’s eyes as the officers led her out. She turned once, to see Mrs. Khanna’s face etched with disbelief and heartbreak.
“Please, just listen-” Mrs. Khanna tried again, following them out, her voice desperate.
The street outside was quiet, painfully normal, a cruel contrast to the chaos unfolding in Priya’s life.
At the police station, Mrs. Khanna did everything she could. She spoke with the officers, pleaded for understanding, tried to explain there must be some mistake. But her words met with cold professionalism.
Finally, she turned to Priya, her eyes full of helpless sorrow. “I think we should tell Aryan everything,” she said quietly.
“No, Mom… please,” Priya whispered, tears streaming down her face.
Mrs. Khanna sighed, her heart breaking for the girl who had become like her daughter. She reached out and squeezed Priya’s trembling hands. “We’ll fix this,” she murmured, though even she wasn’t sure how. The day had started with warmth and laughter, with tea, sunlight, and love. But now, it had descended into a nightmare.
Priya sat there, numb, her mind racing with fear and guilt. The only thought that echoed in her head was the one she couldn’t bear, What will Aryan think when he learns the truth?
❁𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑❁
❀𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙!❀
♡ 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 ♡
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