Chapter 13 His Wife, His Obsession
The morning sun bathed the Malhotra mansion in a soft golden hue as Ira quietly sat at the breakfast table. The aroma of fresh parathas filled the air, mingling with the soft laughter and chatter of family members. She was still lost in thoughts of last night—the way the sacred rituals had tied her to Aarav in a way neither of them had anticipated, the feel of his fingers brushing against hers as he tied the protective thread around her wrist, and most of all, the way he had looked at her.
That look had unsettled her more than anything.
“Bhabhi, you were glowing extra after the puja,” Kabir teased, breaking her thoughts. She looked up, only to find both Kabir and Anika staring at her with mischievous grins.
“Anything you want to tell us?” Anika added, wiggling her brows.
Ira’s cheeks heated instantly. “W-What?” she stammered, looking down at her plate.
Kabir leaned closer, as if he were revealing a great secret. “Maybe our cold-hearted bhai is finally falling for bhabhi.”
Anika gasped dramatically, nudging Ira’s shoulder. “I never thought I’d live to see the day!”
Ira opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, a low voice cut through their teasing.
“Enough,” Aarav said, his tone calm yet commanding.
The air in the room shifted as all eyes turned to him. He sat across from Ira, effortlessly composed as he sipped his coffee, his expression unreadable. But Kabir and Anika only smirked wider.
“Oh, come on, bhai. We’re just saying what everyone’s thinking.” Kabir grinned.
Aarav shot him a cold glare, and that was enough to shut him up. Kabir raised his hands in surrender while Anika simply giggled.
Ira stole a glance at Aarav, her heart racing. He wasn’t even looking at her. He never did, not directly. But something in the air felt different today.
Aarav adjusted his watch, standing by the window of their room, waiting for Ira to get ready. He had planned to simply escort her to the anniversary party and get it over with. It was just another evening, just another family gathering.
And then he heard the soft rustle of fabric.
He looked up, expecting to see her as he always did—modest, quiet, composed.
Instead, he saw something that made his breath hitch.
Ira stood before him in a deep red saree, the color so rich it looked sinful against her delicate skin. The blouse hugged her curves, the fabric draping over her in a way that left too much to his imagination. Her long earrings brushed against her jaw as she adjusted the pleats, oblivious to the fact that she was slowly driving him insane.
His fingers curled into fists. His jaw locked.
She had no idea what she was doing to him.
For the first time in his life, Aarav Malhotra struggled to look away.
He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not about her. Not about anyone.
But damn it, she was beautiful. Too beautiful.
When she finally turned to him, her innocent gaze meeting his, he felt something dangerous stir inside him.
“You’re staring,” she said softly, breaking the silence.
Aarav exhaled sharply, looking away. “Let’s go. We’re already late.”
As he walked past her, his hand accidentally brushed against her waist.
Ira sucked in a sharp breath.
And in that brief second, Aarav swore he could hear the faint, unsteady beat of her heart.
Ira barely managed to gather her thoughts as they stepped out of the room. Why had he been staring at her like that?
And why did it feel like her skin still burned where his fingers had grazed her waist?
She stole a glance at him as they walked to the car. It was unfair, really.
Aarav Malhotra, in his black three-piece suit, looked like he had stepped straight out of a dream. His sharp jawline, the slight scruff on his face, the way his broad shoulders filled out his blazer—everything about him was intimidatingly perfect.
But it wasn’t just his looks.
It was the way he carried himself. The way he never had to raise his voice to command attention. The way he had an aura that could silence a room with just a glance.
And tonight… he smelled like sandalwood and something irresistibly male.
Ira clenched her hands into fists. Stop it. You’re overthinking.
This was a contract. Nothing more.
And yet, as she sat beside him in the car, her heart refused to listen.
The party was lively, filled with music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Ira found herself helping the other women set up the dining area, feeling a sense of ease despite her inner turmoil.
That ease didn’t last long.
“Here, let me help you,” a familiar voice said.
Ira turned to see Rahul, a distant relative, reaching for the tray she was carrying.
She smiled politely. “Thank you.”
But before she could even blink, a familiar cold presence filled the air.
Aarav.
He stepped in smoothly, taking the tray from Rahul’s hands without a word. His fingers brushed against Ira’s for a fleeting moment—a touch that sent an inexplicable shiver down her spine.
And then, in a voice so deep and possessive that it made every woman in the room blush, he said—
“If my wife needs help, she knows who to ask. And it’s definitely not you.”
A stunned silence followed.
Ira’s breath caught in her throat.
Rahul chuckled awkwardly and stepped back, but Kabir and Anika?
They nearly choked on their drinks.
“HOLY SHIT,” Kabir whispered to Anika. “I think he’s serious.”
Anika’s eyes were wide with delight. “Our brother is actually jealous? This is a historic moment.”
Ira, meanwhile, was still staring at Aarav.
Because for the first time… she wasn’t sure if he was acting.
The car ride was silent, but the air was anything but.
Ira fidgeted with the edge of her saree. The memory of Aarav’s words still played in her mind. My wife knows who to ask.
She finally turned to him, breaking the silence. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Aarav didn’t even glance at her. “Do what?”
“Rahul was just being polite.”
At that, he turned, his eyes dangerously dark.
“You think I’d let some random guy act like your savior?” he murmured.
Ira’s heart stopped.
She opened her mouth to argue, but then he added, voice even lower—
“You don’t need help from anyone when you have me.”
A deep blush crept up her neck.
She turned away, staring out the window. This man was dangerous.
Because if she wasn’t careful…
She just might start believing him.
_______
Same that night
Ira lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her heartbeat refusing to slow down.
You don’t need help from anyone when you have me.
His voice, dark and dangerously close, played in her mind over and over again.
Why did he say that?
Why did it sound so real?
She turned to her side, pulling the blanket up, trying to force herself to sleep. But she knew it was useless. Because every time she closed her eyes, she saw him. The way he had looked at her tonight. The intensity in his eyes. The quiet storm beneath his cold exterior.
Was she imagining it? Or was there something changing between them?
On the other side of the room, Aarav sat in his chair, watching her.
His elbow rested on the armrest, fingers brushing against his lips in thought.
He should have looked away. He should have closed his eyes and slept.
But he didn’t.
Because for the first time in his life, he wanted to memorize someone.
The way her long lashes fluttered. The way her lips parted slightly as she breathed.
She looked innocent. Untouched. Pure.
His.
A dangerous thought. One he had no right to think.
Aarav exhaled sharply, finally looking away.
This was a contract.
Nothing more.
Then why did it feel like so much more?