chapter 76 - love in los Angeles
The wheels of the Malhotra private jet touched down on LA soil at exactly 6 AM. Outside, the sky was a dreamy mix of deep blue and warm orange, the last remnants of the night fading into the soft glow of sunrise. The air was warm, a comfortable 30°C, promising a beautiful day ahead.
Aarav glanced at Ira, who was still curled up against him, her face buried in his chest. She had slept through the landing, her breath soft and even. A smirk played on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Baby," he whispered, nuzzling her ear.
She groaned, snuggling deeper into him. "No, five more minutes," she mumbled.
Aarav chuckled. "We landed, sweetheart. Time to wake up."
Ira peeked at him through sleepy eyes, her lips pouting. "Already?"
"Yes. And we have a luxurious suite waiting for us," he teased, kissing the tip of her nose.
With a lot of coaxing (and a few playful threats of throwing her over his shoulder), Ira finally got up, and they stepped out into the warm LA morning.
By 7 AM, they arrived at one of the most luxurious hotels in LA, their suite boasting a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The moment Ira stepped in, she gasped.
"Aarav…" She turned to him with wide eyes. "This is—this is unreal!"
The suite was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed the golden morning sun to filter in. A king-sized bed sat at the center, draped in plush white covers, and beyond the balcony was a panoramic view of LA that could steal anyone’s breath away.
Aarav slid his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Do you like it?"
She nodded, speechless.
"Good," he murmured, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. "Because I plan on keeping you here forever."
She turned in his arms, rolling her eyes. "Mr. Malhotra, are you kidnapping me?"
"Absolutely," he smirked. "A lifetime sentence in my arms."
Ira laughed, but before she could respond, he picked her up and dropped her onto the soft bed, immediately joining her.
"Aarav!" she shrieked.
But he simply pulled her into his embrace. "It’s early morning, baby. We should be sleeping."
She shook her head but didn’t resist when he hugged her tightly, their bodies molding together perfectly. The warmth of his embrace, the slow, steady sound of his heartbeat—everything felt right.
And so, they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the golden morning bathe them in its warmth.
At 10 AM, the delicious scent of breakfast filled the room. Ira stirred, blinking lazily. Before she could sit up, a tray was placed in front of her.
"Good morning, Mrs. Malhotra," Aarav smirked, handing her a plate.
"You ordered breakfast?" she asked, stretching.
"Of course. A queen deserves to be pampered."
She grinned, picking up a croissant. But just as she took a bite, she felt something warm brush against her lips—Aarav’s thumb, wiping away a crumb.
"You missed a spot," he murmured, his eyes dark with mischief.
Ira swallowed hard. "Oh."
Instead of moving away, Aarav leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers.
"You taste like vanilla," he whispered.
Her cheeks flushed. "Aarav…"
"Yes, baby?" His voice was teasing, his eyes locked on hers.
"You—you're distracting me."
"Good," he smirked.
And just like that, he stole a kiss.
By noon, they finally stepped out of the hotel, but one thing was constant—Aarav’s arm, wrapped securely around Ira’s waist. It wasn’t just for show. It was a silent declaration. She’s mine.
Every time a man so much as glanced at Ira for longer than necessary, Aarav’s grip tightened. His possessiveness was subtle but deadly.
Ira, of course, noticed.
"Aarav," she whispered, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Why are you holding me like you’re afraid I’ll run away?"
His gaze flickered to her lips before meeting her eyes. "Not afraid. Just making sure no one forgets you're taken."
She smirked. "Possessive much?"
"Very."
A mischievous thought crossed Ira’s mind. She suddenly stepped away from him, pretending to admire something in the distance. And just like that, Aarav’s entire body tensed.
Before she could take another step, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back against his chest.
"Where do you think you’re going, Mrs. Malhotra?" he murmured against her ear.
She giggled. "Just looking around."
"Look from here." His grip tightened on her waist. "No unnecessary wandering."
She turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Aarav, are you seriously acting like a caveman right now?"
"If it keeps men from staring at my wife, then yes."
She bit her lip to hide her smile. "What if I like the attention?"
His jaw clenched. "You don’t."
Ira laughed, shaking her head. "You’re unbelievable."
"And you’re mine," he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple before leading her toward the car.
The Getty Center was breathtaking. Gardens stretched for miles, with vibrant flowers blooming in every direction, their fragrance lingering in the air. The soft murmur of fountains and the peaceful atmosphere made it the perfect place to get lost in.
The gardens were nothing short of breathtaking—lush greenery, peaceful fountains, and a view of the city that stretched endlessly.
They walked hand in hand, stealing glances at each other. The gentle breeze played with Ira’s hair, and Aarav found himself unable to look away.
"Stop staring," she said, smirking.
"Can’t help it," he admitted.
They sat on a secluded bench, taking in the scenery. Aarav pulled her close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her wrist.
"You know," he mused, "this trip is going to be dangerous."
Ira raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because I don’t think I’ll let you out of my sight. Ever."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Hopeless."
"Only for you, baby."
the peaceful atmosphere made it the perfect place to get lost in.
And that’s exactly what happened.
Ira had wandered off.
One moment she was beside him, and the next—she wasn’t.
Aarav’s world had stilled the moment he lost sight of her.
His pulse had quickened, a suffocating fear gripping his chest as he searched for her. It was irrational—she was just a few feet away, perfectly safe—but his heart had never known rationality when it came to Ira.
Then he saw her.
Standing near a bed of lilies, completely oblivious to the storm she had just unleashed inside him.
Aarav didn’t move. He didn’t call out to her.
He just watched.
The golden sunlight kissed her skin, making her glow like something celestial. Her long, wavy hair moved gently in the breeze, strands occasionally brushing against her cheek. She lifted a delicate hand to tuck them behind her ear, a simple action that sent a sharp pang through his chest.
Ira had always been beautiful. But in that moment—untouched by the world, lost in something as simple as admiring flowers—she was devastating.
His fingers tightened around his phone.
Aarav Malhotra never captured moments. He never paused to admire. Life had always been about moving forward, about control and power and never looking back.
But for the first time, he wanted to freeze time.
Silently, he lifted his phone and captured the moment. One. Then another. And another.
Ira, tilting her head slightly, completely unaware of his gaze. Ira, brushing her fingers over the soft petals. Ira, standing amidst a bed of flowers, a picture of innocence and quiet joy.
He saved the pictures and lowered his phone, still unable to move.
What have you done to me, Ira?
This wasn’t just love. It was something more. Something terrifying in its intensity.
Aarav was a man of logic. Of numbers and deals and calculated risks. Love was not something he had ever planned for.
But Ira? She had never been part of a plan.
She had barged into his life, stubborn and innocent and everything he didn’t know he needed. She had made a home in his cold, guarded heart, rearranging his carefully structured world without asking for permission.
And now—now he couldn't breathe when she wasn’t near. He couldn't think when he lost sight of her.
You’re everything.
The realization hit him like a blow to the chest.
Not just his wife. Not just the woman he loved.
She was his life.
His home.
His safe place in a world that had never offered him warmth.
Aarav exhaled sharply, his grip on his phone loosening. He was already walking before he even realized it, his long strides quickly closing the distance between them.
"Ira."
She turned, startled. "Aarav? What—"
Before she could finish, he reached for her, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him.
She gasped softly, caught off guard. "Aarav—"
"You left my side," he murmured, his voice rough.
Her brows furrowed. "I was just looking at flowers."
He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. The scent of jasmine and vanilla—her scent—washed over him, grounding him, calming the storm inside.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack," he muttered against her temple.
She laughed softly, her hands settling against his chest. "I wasn’t going anywhere."
Aarav sighed. "You are my biggest weakness, you know that?"
Ira leaned back slightly, peering up at him with mischief dancing in her eyes. "And you, Mr. Malhotra, are the most dramatic husband ever."
He huffed but didn’t let go. "You love it."
She grinned. "Maybe."
Aarav shook his head, exasperation and amusement blending in his gaze.
She had no idea, did she? No idea what she did to him.
No idea that with every passing day, she was sinking deeper into his soul, leaving no room for anything else.
Aarav Malhotra was a man who had built walls around his heart, but Ira?
She had torn them down effortlessly, simply by existing.
And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same again.
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