With countless questions swirling in my mind, I stood before the mirror, preparing for the conference. Today was no ordinary day—it was the day we would step forward and announce our wedding to the world. A surge of emotions ran through me: excitement, apprehension, and an unshakable fear of judgment. Would they think Taanvi Singhania, the one entering another marriage after the heartbreak of her failed marriage with her long-time sweetheart?

I shook my head, brushing away the storm of doubts threatening to consume me. I chose boldness, strength a statement of resilience. My eyes fell on a sleek black jumpsuit hanging in the wardrobe. It radiated power and matched perfectly with the black coat Araav had chosen for the occasion.

Once dressed, I adjusted the belt around my waist, slipped on a pair of stilettos, and took a deep breath. You’ve got this, Taanvi, I told myself. Squaring my shoulders, I descended the grand staircase, my heels clicking against the marble. Yet, as I approached the final steps, my mind wandered again. Doubts crept back in, would they whisper behind my back? Would their gazes carry pity, scorn, or both?

Distracted by my thoughts, I missed a step. My heart leapt as I felt myself losing balance. The world tilted for a moment, and I braced myself for the inevitable crash. But it never came. Instead, I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist, steadying me before I could fall.

“You should really learn to watch your step, Taanvi,” came Araav’s familiar voice, laced with concern

I looked up, meeting his intense gaze. His hand lingered on my waist, firm yet reassuring, as though silently reminding me that no matter how chaotic my world felt, he would always be there to catch me. For a moment, the thousand thoughts swirling in my mind stilled, and all I could focus on was the warmth of his touch and the unwavering confidence in his eyes.

“Taanvi, listen to me.” Araav’s voice cut through the noise in my head, sharp and resolute. I looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his gaze. His usual calmness had been replaced by something unyielding, something fierce. He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine, and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine.

“No matter what they say, no matter the obstacles they throw our way, I’m not going to back down. I’ll fight for you,for us.” His voice softened, but the seriousness in it felt like a promise he had no intention of breaking.

“Together, we’ll face whatever comes. Let them talk about your past, your mistakes, or their judgments. It doesn’t define you, Taanvi. Not now, not ever.” He reached out, his fingers brushing mine, a fleeting touch that somehow grounded me. “You’re stronger than they’ll ever understand, and soon enough, they’ll know that.”

He straightened, his confidence unwavering as a glimmer of something unspoken flickered in his eyes. “Mrs. soon-to-be Raghuvanshi, let’s make this contract of ours not just a deal, but the start of something unstoppable.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. This wasn’t about love; I knew that much. This arrangement was purely business, a calculated move for both of us. Yet, there was something in his tone, in the certainty he carried, that made me feel something I hadn’t in a long time, reassurance. Somehow, that was enough.

“Shall we, Hello Kitty?” Araav’s lips curved into a teasing smirk as he broke the tension in the air.

I glared at him, crossing my arms. “Shut up, Araav. Don’t call me that.” My voice was sharp, but I could feel the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“Oh, but I will.” His grin widened as he leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying my annoyance. “You’ll always be my Hello Kitty.”

I groaned in exasperation as he burst out laughing, his deep, carefree chuckles filling the room. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and smile. Typical Araav. Always finding a way to get under my skin.

We arrived at the press venue shortly after, the hum of the car engine fading as the growing sound of murmuring reporters and flashing cameras reached my ears. My heart raced, the familiar pang of nervousness threatening to overwhelm me. I adjusted my posture, trying to appear composed, but my thoughts were anything but calm.

Out of nowhere, I felt a warm, steady hand rest on mine. Startled, I glanced to my side and found Araav’s reassuring gaze fixed on me. His touch was gentle yet firm, anchoring me in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Slowly, he leaned closer and mouthed, "You can do it."

The words, simple as they were, sent a wave of calm through me. My lips involuntarily curved into a small, grateful smile. He noticed and returned the gesture with a nod, as if silently saying, "I’ve got your back."

Without a word, Araav stepped out of the car first. Straightening his suit, he exuded confidence, his presence commanding immediate attention from the crowd outside. The cameras turned toward him, flashes erupting like bursts of lightning in the night. Yet, he didn’t falter. Instead, he walked around to my side, opening the door with a gentlemanly grace.

He extended his hand toward me, a soft smile playing on his lips. There was no hesitation in his expression, only encouragement. I placed my hand in his, allowing his strength to guide me as I stepped out of the car.

The moment my heels touched the pavement, the cacophony of shutters and voices erupted around us. Bright lights flashed incessantly, momentarily blinding me. My initial instinct was to retreat, to seek the safety of the car again, but before I could waver, Araav’s hand tightened around mine.

It wasn’t just a touch; it was a silent promise. A reassurance that he was there, and no matter what the next moments held, I wasn’t alone. I stole a glance at him, his expression steady, his composure unshaken. His calmness seeped into me, steadying the nervous storm that threatened to take over.

With his hand in mine, I took a deep breath and faced the sea of cameras and reporters, ready to step into whatever awaited us.

As we entered the press hall, the chatter of the crowd simmered into a hushed anticipation. The room was bathed in bright lights, making every glance and expression sharply visible. Araav and I walked with poise, his hand still resting on mine, guiding me to the table at the center of the stage. The backdrop showcased the logos of our companies, a reminder of the significant collaboration we were here to announce.

Settling into our seats, I straightened my posture and clasped my hands together to keep them steady. Araav, seated beside me, adjusted his microphone and leaned back into his chair, exuding an air of authority. With a subtle yet firm nod from him, the press conference officially began.

The reporters wasted no time. Microphones were thrust forward, and questions were fired, one after another. Together, we tackled each inquiry with precision and boldness. Our voices were steady, our answers perfectly aligned, painting a picture of unity and confidence.

But then, a reporter at the far end of the room stood up, his tone laced with a thinly veiled challenge. "Mrs. Tanvi Raghuvanshi," he began, drawing everyone's attention, "how do you feel about stepping into the limelight after your failed marriage with Rishi Rajvansh? Do you think his shadow still lingers over your success?"

The question hit like a blow, causing the air around me to shift. I felt the familiar sting of a wound I thought I’d long buried. A shaky breath escaped me as the murmurs in the room grew louder.

Before I could spiral, I felt it again—that reassuring touch. Araav’s hand lightly pressed against my back, grounding me instantly. His silent support calmed the storm brewing within. I straightened my shoulders, taking a deep breath before locking eyes with the reporter.

“I don’t believe anyone’s shadow lingers unless you let it,” I replied, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “My success is a result of my hard work and resilience. As for my past, it’s precisely that—the past. I’ve moved forward, and perhaps it’s time for everyone else to do the same.”

The room was silent, the reporter visibly stunned. Araav’s lips twitched into a smirk, a flicker of amusement crossing his otherwise composed expression.

Before the tension could settle, another question was hurled our way. “There’s speculation that this marriage of yours is nothing more than a cosplay—a strategy for revenge against Rishi Rajvansh or for business gains. How do you respond to that?”

I froze momentarily, unsure how to navigate the insinuation, but Araav was already leaning forward, his gaze sharp as it locked on the reporter.

“If this were a strategy, don’t you think we would’ve concocted something far less transparent?” he said, his tone calm yet loaded with sarcasm. “Let me clarify something: I’ve loved Tanvi for the past five years. I waited, approached her for a year, and when I felt the time was right, I asked for her hand in marriage. If that sounds like a ‘business strategy’ to you, I’d suggest reconsidering your idea of love.”

The room erupted in murmurs again, the reporter fumbling with his notes, caught off-guard by Araav’s boldness. Meanwhile, I glanced at Araav, trying to maintain my composure.

Wow, I thought, a mix of admiration and disbelief coursing through me. He’s really good at making up stories.

As the press continued to buzz with questions, I couldn’t help but marvel at Araav’s confidence and quick thinking. It was clear he wasn’t just here to support me, he was here to ensure we walked out of this as an unshakable team.

Araav leaned forward slightly, his cold, commanding voice echoing through the room. “I would like to announce that my soon-to-be Mrs. Raghuvanshi and I are getting engaged this Sunday, with our wedding planned for next month.”

His words hit like a thunderclap, silencing the entire room. For a brief moment, even the relentless clicking of cameras stopped, only to resume with greater ferocity. I could feel every pair of eyes on us, scrutinizing, judging. My heart thudded in my chest, but I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let anyone see how unsettled I truly was.

A reporter stood, his curiosity as obvious as the eagerness in his tone. “Don’t you think it’s too soon, Mr. Raghuvanshi?”

I held my breath, expecting Araav to respond with his usual cutting sharpness. But instead, he turned to me, his gaze softening in a way that made the room and all its noise fade into the background. His eyes locked on mine, steady and unyielding, and for a fleeting second, I almost believed he meant it.

“When you know something is meant to be, there’s no such thing as ‘too soon,’” he said, his voice carrying a warmth I hadn’t heard before. “Some things are worth waiting for, but when the time is right, you don’t let the moment slip by. This is that moment for us.”

I could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, silencing the murmurs in the room. My pulse quickened as I forced myself to hold his gaze, even as my mind screamed at me to look away. How did he make it sound so real?

The rest of the press conference passed in a blur. We fielded a few more questions, none as challenging as that one, before Araav gave a sharp nod, signaling that it was time to leave. Rising from my seat, I forced my legs to move with the same confidence I’d managed to fake all evening.

Once we were out of the hall and the door closed behind us, I finally exhaled, the tension leaving my body in waves. The car was already waiting for us, and Araav, ever the gentleman, opened the door for me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, sliding into the seat.

He joined me moments later, and the silence in the car was oddly comforting after the chaos we’d just endured. As we pulled away from the venue, Araav turned to me, his expression softer now.

“You did a great job in there,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

I glanced at him, unable to hide the small smile tugging at my lips. “And you’re really good at making up stories,” I teased, my tone light and playful.

He arched an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. “What story?”

“The one about you loving me for five years,” I said, smirking as laughter bubbled up inside me. I couldn’t hold it back anymore and burst into giggles.

Araav’s expression shifted, his features hardening slightly—not with anger, but something else I couldn’t quite place. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my laughter falter.

Araav’s gaze held mine, unyielding. For a moment, I felt like he was peeling back the layers I’d carefully constructed around myself. His lips finally curved into a faint smirk.

“I suppose I am good at making up stories,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing. Then, as if switching gears, he added, “I’ll drop you at your office. I’ll pick you up this evening—we’ll need to find something suitable for the engagement.”

His tone was casual, but the weight of his words made my chest tighten. I nodded, unsure of how else to respond. The air between us still felt charged, though neither of us acknowledged it.

He started the car, the hum of the engine filling the silence. The journey to my office was uneventful, save for my scattered thoughts. Every time I glanced at Araav from the corner of my eye, his expression remained unreadable, his focus solely on the road.

When we arrived, he pulled up in front of the building and glanced my way. “I’ll see you at six,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Six it is,” I replied, quickly gathering my bag and stepping out of the car. I closed the door behind me and turned briefly to watch him drive away, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me.

Once inside, I made my way to my cabin, mentally preparing myself for the workload ahead. But the moment I opened the door, I froze. The entire space was filled with bouquets—roses, lilies, tulips, orchids. The fragrant symphony hit me instantly, but my eyes were drawn to one bouquet in particular.

A stunning arrangement of deep blue hydrangeas and white calla lilies sat on my desk. It stood out not just for its rarity but for the note attached to it. My heart skipped a beat as I picked up the envelope, immediately recognizing the initials on the front: A.R.J.

With slightly trembling hands, I unfolded the note inside.

"To Tanvi,

Your resilience inspires me more than words can say. The strength you carry and the grace with which you face every challenge remind me of why I admire you so deeply.

- A.R.J.

I stared at the words for what felt like an eternity. The handwriting was neat, elegant, almost too perfect, and the message… it left me speechless.

Whoever this mysterious sender was, they clearly knew how to strike a chord. I placed the note back in the envelope and set it on my desk, my thoughts racing.

As I sank into my chair, my eyes kept drifting back to the bouquet. Questions bubbled to the surface, but one thought drowned out the rest: Who is A.R.J., and how do they know so much about me?

The day’s work awaited me, but for now, I couldn’t shake the lingering mystery of the note and the bouquet.

I was deeply engrossed in my work, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I focused intently on the screen. The faint hum of the computer filled the otherwise silent room, a perfect atmosphere for concentration.

Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang, jolting me from my flow. My teeth clenched in frustration as my focus wavered, though I kept my eyes glued to the computer. Without looking up, I let out an irritated remark, my tone sharp.

"Don’t you have any manners?"

A familiar voice responded, casual and unbothered, "No."

I glanced up briefly, my annoyance growing as I met the unrepentant smirk on Araav’s face. His audacity was unmatched, and it only added fuel to my irritation.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. “Why are you here, Araav?” I asked curtly, still glaring at the smirk on his face.

He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually. “Did my Hello Kitty forget that we’re supposed to go shopping for our engagement outfits?” he said, his tone laced with mockery.

For a moment, I blinked, confused. Shopping? Then it hit me—he had mentioned it this morning, hadn’t he? My eyes darted to the corner of my screen to check the time, and my heart sank. It was already five o’clock.

I groaned inwardly, realizing that I’d lost track of time in my work. “Fine, give me a minute,” I muttered, shutting down my computer with a resigned sigh.

Araav pushed off the doorframe, his smirk widening. “Take your time, Princess. We only have an hour left to get there,” he teased.

I shot him a glare, but it only seemed to amuse him further. Grabbing my bag, I brushed past him and muttered, “Let’s go.”

The drive to the designer shop was surprisingly quiet, though Araav occasionally glanced at me with that infuriating smirk. I ignored him, choosing instead to mentally prepare myself for what I knew would be a long and exhausting shopping session.

When we arrived, the shop was nothing short of breathtaking. It was a high-end Italian designer boutique, the kind that radiated exclusivity with its glass walls, elegant chandeliers, and immaculately dressed staff. As we stepped inside, we were greeted warmly, the staff already prepared to cater to our every whim.

Araav, ever the showman, turned to the manager with an air of authority. “The shop is yours for the next three hours,” he said casually, as if this kind of extravagance was second nature to him.

I raised an eyebrow at him, my annoyance momentarily forgotten. “Three hours?” I whispered under my breath, incredulous.

He leaned closer to me, his voice low and teasing. “Anything for you, Hello Kitty.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. Typical Araav—over-the-top, infuriating.

I started strolling through the boutique, my eyes flitting over the racks of exquisite dresses. Each one was a masterpiece—rich fabrics, intricate designs, and the kind of craftsmanship that screamed luxury. Yet, with every outfit I examined, my mind kept saying no.

It wasn’t the dresses; they were perfect. It was me. I could almost hear Rishi’s voice echoing in my head, laced with condescension. “Your clothing style is absurd, Tanvi. Always trying too hard.”

The memory made my chest tighten, self-doubt creeping in like an unwelcome guest. I clenched my fists, trying to push the thoughts away. But the insecurity lingered, gnawing at me until I let out a groan of frustration.

Araav, who had been casually lounging nearby, immediately noticed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer than I expected.

“I’m just…confused,” I admitted reluctantly. “I don’t know what to choose.”

His lips curled into a smirk, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Let me help my Hello Kitty, then.”

A soft chuckle escaped one of the staff members accompanying us, and I froze, mortified. My cheeks burned as I turned to Araav, glaring at him. “Araav!” I hissed. “Don’t call me that in public!”

He grinned shamelessly, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. “Why not? It suits you.”

“Just…ugh, forget it!” I snapped, crossing my arms.

Ignoring my outburst, he began browsing through the dresses with surprising focus. I watched as he carefully examined each one, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something more serious. Then, his gaze stalled on a traditional lehenga displayed on a mannequin.

It was breathtaking—a pure half-white lehenga with intricate embroidery. The blouse was elegant, with delicate embellishments, and the dupatta shimmered softly, its subtle shine giving the outfit an ethereal glow. He pointed to it, addressing the staff. “Bring that one down. She’s trying it.”

“What? I—” I started to protest, but he cut me off with a firm look.

“Trust me, Hello Kitty,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Minutes later, I found myself in the trial room, slipping into the lehenga. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t believe what I saw. The outfit fit me perfectly, the half-white fabric complementing my skin tone catching the light beautifully.

I stepped out hesitantly, my insecurities still whispering doubts, but the look on Araav’s face stopped me in my tracks. His gaze lingered on me, appreciation shining in his eyes.

“Finally,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve got some competition in the beauty standards department.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress the faint smile tugging at my lips. “Careful, Araav. Your ego might suffocate us all in this room.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Touché.”

I turned back to the mirror, admiring the lehenga once more. “What about you?” I asked, glancing at him. “What are you going to wear for the engagement?”

“Probably a coat,” he replied nonchalantly.

I spun around to face him, giving him an incredulous look. “A coat? Are you serious? You’re not going to show up to our engagement in something that dull.”

His brows raised in amusement. “Dull? It’s classic.”

“It’s boring,” I retorted. “We’re buying you a sherwani, and there’s no room for discussion.”

He sighed dramatically, his hand over his heart. “As if I have a choice.”

“You don’t,” I replied with a smirk, already pulling him toward the men’s section. This shopping trip was far from over.

I started rummaging through the racks of sherwanis, my fingers brushing over the luxurious fabrics as I sifted through them. Araav, ever the picture of disinterest, gave me a bored look. He leaned against the shelf, his arms folded, waiting for me to find something that caught my attention.

I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but I continued anyway, pulling out one after another. Then, my hands stopped on a white sherwani. It was simple yet elegant, with delicate embroidery in gold that matched perfectly with my lehenga.

I turned to Araav, excitement flickering in my chest. “Try this one,” I said, my voice almost pleading.

He sighed dramatically, but there was an amused glint in his eyes as he took the sherwani from my hands. “Fine, if it’ll make you happy.”

I watched as he slipped into the changing room, and when he emerged a few minutes later, I couldn’t help but stare. The sherwani fit him like it was made for him. The white fabric contrasted sharply with his dark features, and the gold embroidery made his presence even more commanding. It was perfect.

“Pack it,” I said, barely able to contain my smile.

Araav raised an eyebrow. “What, no comments about my dazzling good looks?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the amusement tugging at my lips. “Just pack it. The shopping is over.”

With the shopping done, we decided to grab a bite at a nearby restaurant. We sat down at a quiet table, and as I was about to pull my chair out, Araav, of all people, pulled it out for me, his usual smirk firmly in place.

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a mocking smile. “Are you trying to impress me, Araav?”

He returned my teasing look with one of his own, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Of course, Princess. I aim to please.”

I shook my head but sat down, trying to stifle a laugh. Our usual banter felt oddly comforting.

Once we finished, Araav dropped me off at home. I thanked him quickly, trying to shake off the strange sense of warmth his presence left behind.

As I stepped into my room, I decided a quick shower was exactly what I needed before bed. The water soothed my tired muscles, but as soon as I settled in, my phone buzzed with a few notifications. I grabbed it absentmindedly, scrolling through the tabloids that seemed obsessed with our every move.

One photo caught my attention—one from earlier that day at the restaurant. It was of Araav pulling my chair out for me, his hand hovering near the back of the seat as I sat down. The caption read: “A Gentleman at the Table: Araav Raghuvanshi Shows Off His Chivalrous Side.”

I couldn’t help but scoff at the nosiness of the paparazzi. Who needed to know that? I flipped through a few more pages, and the headlines were a mix of both praise and criticism about our engagement and impending marriage. Some seemed to think it was the perfect fairy tale, while others had questions that seemed far from flattering.

Did Tanvi move on so easily from Rishi?

Is this really a marriage of convenience or love?

Will Araav and Tanvi last, or is this just another publicity stunt?

Does Tanvi deserve someone like Araav?

Is this a power move by Araav, or is he truly in love?

Did Tanvi marry Araav for his wealth and status?

Was there a divorce between Rishi and Tanvi because of her affair with Araav?

What does this say about the future of their business partnership?

Are they really compatible, or are they just pretending?

Is this engagement another media spectacle to boost ratings?

The questions made my stomach churn. Some were blunt, others wrapped in veiled cynicism. I felt my frustration mounting, but at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder—what would it take for people to understand? Would they ever stop seeing us as characters in a story they could write?

Sighing, I tossed the tabloids aside and tried to shake off the thoughts. I needed rest—my mind was too full.

My phone buzzed with a notification as soon as I kept it on the night stand

I sighed and reached for my phone, squinting at the screen as I saw the message. "Good night my hello kitty."

A groan escaped my lips. Araav. Even at this hour, he had to pop into my life with his nonsense.

With a roll of my eyes, I typed back, "Good night, Mr. Narcissist. Don't let your ego hit you in the face on the way to bed."

I hit send, knowing that would likely get a response—but I didn't care. I tossed the phone aside and pulled the blankets up, closing my eyes. It had been a long day, and my mind, no matter how much it wanted to stay alert, was simply too exhausted.

Within moments, I drifted off to sleep, the dull glow of my phone screen the last thing I saw before my mind slipped into quiet oblivion.