Chapter 77 His Sunshine, His Obsession
The second day in Los Angeles started before the city even woke up.
At exactly 4 AM, Aarav Malhotra was already wide awake, propped up on one elbow, watching her—his temporary wife, curled up on the bed, her soft breaths filling the silence.
The dim hotel room light barely illuminated her face, but he didn’t need brightness to see her. She was already etched into his mind—every tiny detail. The way her lashes rested against her cheeks, the way her lips parted slightly as she slept, the way she always clutched the blanket like a child.
His little troublemaker.
For a man like Aarav, mornings were just another part of his routine—cold showers, unread emails, business calls. But today? Today was different.
Today, he wanted to see her reaction.
Smirking, he leaned down, his lips barely an inch from her ear.
"Wake up, Mrs. Malhotra." His voice was low, raspy from sleep, deliberately teasing.
She groaned in protest, burying her face deeper into the pillow.
"Aarav…" she mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. "Go away."
He chuckled. "That’s not happening, sweetheart."
She peeked at him through sleepy eyes, her brows furrowing. "Why are you even awake at this hour?"
"Because I have a surprise for you."
That got her attention.
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?"
He smirked, pulling the blanket off her.
"You’ll see. Now, get up."
She pouted. "Can’t you just tell me?"
Aarav leaned in, his face so close that their noses almost touched.
"Where’s the fun in that?"
She sucked in a breath, her heart suddenly too aware of their closeness. But before she could say anything, he pulled back, walking towards the closet.
"Get dressed, Ira. You have ten minutes before I carry you out of here just like that."
She gasped. "You wouldn’t dare!"
His smirk deepened. "Try me."
And just like that, Ira ran to the bathroom.
Santa Monica Beach – A Moment That Was Only Theirs
The drive was quiet, mostly because Ira kept dozing off against his shoulder, her body naturally curling into him. Aarav didn’t mind—his arm stayed firm around her waist, his fingers occasionally stroking lazy circles against her hip.
He liked touching her.
Correction: he liked owning her.
By the time they reached Santa Monica Beach, the sky was already shifting into hues of pink, orange, and soft purple.
Ira gasped as she stepped onto the sand, the chilly breeze making her shiver.
"You brought me here… to see the sunrise?"
Aarav watched her reaction carefully. "I knew you’d love it."
And she did.
The way she stood there, her eyes wide with wonder, her fingers brushing through her hair as she looked at the sky—it did something to him.
She turned to him with the brightest smile, one that made his chest feel… tight. Too tight.
But he didn’t say a word.
Because at that moment, he realized something terrifying.
He was in too deep.
His grip on her waist tightened unconsciously as he pulled her closer, his breath tickling her ear.
"You’re staring," she teased, her voice playful.
His lips curved into a smirk. "And what if I am?"
She blushed.
Damn, he loved making her blush.
He suddenly stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She shivered—whether from the cold or from his touch, he wasn’t sure.
"You like it here?" he murmured against her hair.
She nodded. "I love it."
His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his voice dropping lower. "Good. Because I love seeing you like this."
She turned her face slightly toward him, just enough for her lips to be dangerously close to his.
His gaze darkened.
For a second, he wanted to ruin her innocence. Right there. Right now.
But instead, he leaned in painfully slow—and kissed her earlobe.
Her breath hitched.
"A-Aarav…"
"Hmm?"
She swallowed, gripping his arms tighter. "You—You can’t just do that!"
He smirked, nuzzling into her neck. "Do what?"
She pushed at his chest, face burning. "You know exactly what!"
He laughed. "Then why are you blushing, sweetheart?"
She glared at him. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, you’re still in my arms," he shot back smoothly.
She had no comeback for that.
So she did what she did best—turned away, pouting.
Aarav shook his head fondly.
After watching the sunrise, Aarav took her to The Griddle Café—a place famous for its over-the-top pancakes.
Ira’s eyes lit up the moment the waiter placed the enormous stack of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her.
Before she could notice the way he was looking at her, she grabbed her phone and excitedly took a photo of the pancakes.
And that’s when he pulled out his own phone.
Not to check emails.
Not to make a call.
But to take her photo.
He snapped a candid shot—Ira, with her eyes filled with wonder, biting her lip as she adjusted the angle of her camera. Completely lost in her own world.
Completely unaware of the way he was memorizing her.
One photo wasn’t enough.
He took another. And another.
Each one was better than the last.
And then, as if sensing something, she glanced at him. "What?"
Aarav smirked, tucking his phone away. "Nothing."
Ira narrowed her eyes. "You were looking at me weird."
"You’re imagining things, sweetheart."
She huffed, returning her attention to her pancakes.
Aarav leaned back, watching her, his smirk fading slightly.
Because this—this moment—was something he knew he would never delete.
No matter what happened between them.
No matter where life took them.
These photos? They were his. Forever.
And so was she.
She just didn’t know it yet.
Aarav Malhotra, a man who rarely used his phone for anything other than work, was now taking candids of his wife—without her even realizing it.
And the worst part?
He didn’t even stop himself.
He took more.
The way she tilted her head, trying to get the right shot. The way her lips parted slightly when she finally got the perfect picture. The way her brows furrowed in concentration when she poured more syrup.
Everything.
He captured everything.
And then, she picked up her fork and took the first bite.
A soft moan of satisfaction left her lips. "Oh my God."
Aarav froze.
His grip on his coffee cup tightened. His jaw clenched. Damn it.
She looked up at him, eyes sparkling. "Aarav, you have to try this!"
He cleared his throat, reaching for the fork she offered, but instead of tasting the pancake, his eyes remained on her.
She had no idea.
No idea what she was doing to him.
No idea that her little reactions, her small, innocent gestures were turning him insane.
Ira tilted her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Aarav smirked, finally taking a bite. "Just wondering how a grown woman can be this excited over pancakes."
She gasped dramatically. "Excuse me, but food is very important!"
"I can see that," he teased, flicking a crumb off her lip with his thumb. "You’re practically in love with this pancake."
She rolled her eyes. "Jealous?"
Aarav chuckled. "Of a pancake? Sweetheart, if I ever feel threatened by food, I’ll know I’ve hit rock bottom."
She stuck her tongue out at him, making him shake his head with amusement.
Damn.
This woman was getting under his skin.
And he was letting her.
After they finished breakfast, Ira excused herself to the washroom, leaving her phone behind on the table.
Aarav leaned back, sipping the last of his coffee, watching the café’s entrance until she disappeared inside.
Just as he was about to check his watch, her phone rang.
An unknown number.
His brows furrowed. He hesitated for a second before picking up. "Hello?"
Silence.
Aarav’s jaw ticked. "Who is this?"
More silence.
But he could hear breathing.
Aarav’s grip tightened. "Speak, or I’ll make sure this is the last time you ever call this number."
The call cut.
He stared at the screen, expression darkening.
Who the hell—?
Before he could think further, Ira returned, smiling. "Let’s go?"
Aarav glanced at her, debating whether to mention the call. But she looked so happy—completely unaware of any problem.
For now, he let it go.
"Let’s go."
Rodeo Drive was breathtaking.
But Aarav barely noticed the designer stores, the fancy cars, the luxurious atmosphere.
Because his entire focus was on the woman walking beside him.
Ira was glowing with excitement, pointing at things, teasing him, completely at ease.
And then she suddenly stopped.
"Aarav, look at that boutique!" she gasped, pointing at a stunning glass storefront. "It looks so pretty!"
Aarav followed her gaze. It was a luxury boutique, showcasing stunning dresses, handbags, and shoes.
"Let’s go in!" she said excitedly.
Aarav smirked, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "You want something?"
She blinked. "No, I just want to look."
Aarav’s expression darkened. Look?
His wife thought she was just going to look?
She really had no idea who she was married to.
Aarav pulled her inside.
"Aarav—!"
Before she could protest, the boutique staff immediately welcomed them with wide smiles.
"Mr. Malhotra, welcome!" The manager greeted him personally. "How can we assist you today?"
Ira turned to him in surprise. "You’ve been here before?"
Aarav shrugged. "I own half the street, sweetheart."
Her mouth fell open.
The manager smiled. "Would you like to see our latest collection?"
Aarav nodded, then turned to Ira. "Pick whatever you want."
Ira’s eyes widened. "Aarav—"
"I’m serious," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You think I’m going to let my wife walk into a boutique and leave empty-handed?"
"I don’t need—"
"I didn’t ask if you needed anything," he cut her off smoothly, stepping closer. "I said, pick something."
Ira swallowed. Oh God.
She wasn’t used to this.
She wasn’t used to being spoiled.
But Aarav?
Aarav was a billionaire. His wife was not going to want for anything.
He leaned down, whispering in her ear. "Make this easy, sweetheart. Because if you don’t pick something, I’ll pick for you. And I promise, you’ll be wearing whatever I choose tonight."
Ira’s breath hitched.
Aarav smirked. Got her.
"Fine," she mumbled, walking over to look at the dresses.
Aarav watched her carefully, his arms crossed as she ran her fingers over the delicate fabric, biting her lip in thought.
Every time she hesitated, he simply said, "Add it to the bill."
"Aarav, stop it!" she whisper-yelled.
He just smirked. "No."
At the end of it, she had six shopping bags.
Ira huffed as they walked out. "I can’t believe you just did that."
Aarav glanced at her, amused. "Believe it, sweetheart. Because that was just the beginning."
Dancing in the Street – A Moment That Was Theirs Alone
As they walked, Ira suddenly stopped.
A street performer was playing a soft melody on his violin. The music was slow, sweet, almost like something out of a romance movie.
Ira turned to Aarav, eyes twinkling. "Dance with me."
Aarav raised an eyebrow. "Here? In the middle of the street?"
She grinned. "Why not?"
He sighed. "I knew marriage would turn me into a fool."
But even as he said it, he was already pulling her close.
No music. No crowd paying attention to them. Just them.
And for the first time since she had met him, Aarav Malhotra looked… happy.
And Ira knew—this was the Aarav Malhotra no one else would ever see.
Because this version of him?
It belonged only to her.