By the third day of the wedding, Aaradhya felt like a beautifully decorated hostage.

Everywhere she looked:
flowers,
diamonds,
cameras,
people touching her face without permission.

Smile here.
Look there.
Stand closer.
Lower your chin.

The wedding had become less about marriage and more about spectacle.

And in the middle of it all-

Armaan Khanna looked offensively unaffected.

The mandap glowed beneath gold lights and white roses while priests chanted into microphones and guests whispered behind designer sarees.

Armaan sat beside her looking like he'd walked out of a luxury magazine and into lifelong commitment by accident.

Cream sherwani.
Messy hair despite stylists fighting for survival.
A watch probably worth somebody's yearly salary resting against his wrist.

Too relaxed.

That irritated her slightly.

The priest continued another ritual while Aaradhya adjusted the weight of her dupatta carefully.

Without looking at her, Armaan murmured lazily:

"If they add one more layer to this outfit, you'll legally become upholstery."

Aaradhya stared ahead.

"Please don't start."

"Start?" he muttered. "I've been mentally dead since the turmeric ceremony."

The corner of her mouth twitched before she stopped it quickly.

The priest glared at them immediately.

Armaan looked deeply unbothered.

Of course he did.

Later during another endless blessing ceremony, Aaradhya's bangles got tangled painfully in the embroidery near her wrist.

Before she could fix it properly, Armaan leaned over casually and untangled them himself.

Efficient hands.
No hesitation.

Then quietly:

"How are women not constantly filing lawsuits against wedding outfits?"

Aaradhya looked at him briefly.

"You're surprisingly helpful today."

His eyes flicked toward her.

Dangerous amusement sitting there instantly.

"Careful. That almost sounded affectionate."

She looked away immediately.

Unfortunately he smirked after that like he'd won something.

Arrogant man.

By midnight the final pheras began.

Sacred fire burning warmly between them while the priest spoke about lifelong partnership and devotion.

Words too enormous for Aaradhya's exhausted brain to process properly anymore.

Then came the mangalsutra.

The sindoor.

The exact moment everything became irreversible.

Camera flashes exploded violently around them.

And just like that-

wife.

The word settled strangely inside her chest.

Not romantic.

Heavy.

The reception stretched painfully late into the night.

Guests crowded them endlessly.

Businessmen.
Actors.
Politicians.
Cricketers.

Everybody wanting photographs with the country's favorite sports disaster and his beautiful new bride.

Armaan survived the entire thing through charm and shameless flirting with elderly aunties.

At one point an actress nearly asked him for a selfie during his own wedding.

His ego visibly enjoyed that too much.

Eventually the crowd finally thinned.

Staff cleaned downstairs while exhausted relatives disappeared toward guest rooms.

Aaradhya's head physically hurt by then.

The bridal suite upstairs looked insane.

Candles.
Rose petals.
Soft gold lights.
Enough flowers to trigger respiratory failure.

Armaan stopped in the doorway beside her and stared at the room silently for three whole seconds.

Then:

"Jesus Christ."

Aaradhya almost laughed immediately from pure exhaustion.

He walked further inside slowly, gaze moving across the dramatic setup.

"This doesn't look romantic."

He loosened the buttons near his collar lazily.

"This looks like rich people pornography."

That startled a laugh out of her before she could stop herself.

Armaan immediately looked toward her.

There it was again.

That tiny real laugh she kept trying to hide.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

The door shut behind them softly.

And suddenly-

silence.

No photographers.
No family.
No priests.
No expectations performed publicly.

Just the two of them.

Alone for the first time as husband and wife.

The thought hit Aaradhya properly then.

Her stomach tightened instantly.

Armaan noticed almost immediately.

Of course he did.

He leaned back casually against the couch watching her with dangerous calm.

Then slowly:

"You look like you're about to testify against me in court."

Aaradhya swallowed.

"I'm tired."

His gaze dragged lazily over the jewelry still covering her neck and wrists.

"You're terrified."

Direct.
Accurate.
Annoying.

She looked away first.

Mistake.

Because Armaan noticed everything once he started paying attention.

He removed his watch slowly before tossing it onto the table.

Then the jacket.

Then loosened another button near his throat while still watching her.

Not softly.

Not romantically.

Confidently.

Like he knew exactly how intimidating he looked standing there at two in the morning in their wedding suite.

Which he absolutely did.

Aaradhya suddenly became painfully aware that:

they were alone

he was very attractive

and this was technically their wedding night

Wonderful.

Armaan tilted his head slightly.

Observing her panic with visible amusement now.

"Relax," he drawled. "I'm not going to pounce on you. You still look emotionally concussed."

Her eyes widened slightly.

He smirked immediately.

Predatory thing.

"There she is."

"You're impossible."

"You married me anyway."

"I didn't exactly-"

She stopped herself too late.

The sentence hung briefly between them.

Armaan's expression shifted faintly.

Not angry.

Just aware.

Then he walked closer.

Not rushed.
Not aggressive.

Slow enough to make her heartbeat noticeably worse.

He stopped directly in front of her.

Too close.

Aaradhya instinctively looked up.

Big mistake.

His face this close felt unfair.

Sharp jaw.
Messy hair.
That lazy dangerous confidence rich men like him carried naturally.

Armaan reached toward her slowly.

Aaradhya froze.

Then-

he removed the heavy pin digging painfully into the side of her hair.

One.
Then another.

"How are you alive under all this?"

His fingers brushed briefly against her neck while removing jewelry clasps.

Warm hands.

Steady.

Aaradhya's breath caught embarrassingly fast.

Armaan noticed instantly.

Of course he did.

His eyes darkened slightly with amusement.

"Cute."

Heat rushed straight into her face.

He leaned down slightly then.
Close enough for his voice to settle low against her skin.

"You know half the country currently thinks I'm seducing you right now."

Aaradhya's pulse stumbled violently.

"...Armaan."

That only made him grin.

Slow.
Filthy.
Dangerously entertained.

"Relax, sweetheart."

His fingers slid lightly beneath the necklace clasp near her throat.

Careful.
Unhurried.

"I'm just trying to free you from sixteen kilos of bridal trauma."

Despite herself-

Aaradhya laughed again.

And Armaan realized abruptly that he liked that sound far more than he probably should.