38. 1 LAKH!?
"You're doing this on purpose."
He didn't respond, just hid a smirk behind the menu.
Aarvi huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "Fine. But when you end up eating my month's salary, don't expect dessert."
The waiter appeared beside their table with a courteous smile. "Good afternoon, sir, ma'am. Shall I take your order?"
Before Aarvi could open her mouth, Vivan smoothly closed the menu and handed it over. "We'll have the chef's special tasting platter, the truffle pasta, and..." he paused, glancing up at the dessert section, "one of your signature chocolate soufflés. And a bottle of your best sparkling drink."
The waiter noted everything down, nodding professionally - but Aarvi's eyes widened with each word.
Chef's special? Truffle what?
When the waiter left, she leaned forward, whispering harshly, "Have you completely lost your mind? Do you even know how much this place charges for water?"
Vivan didn't even blink. "I'm guessing you'll find out when the bill comes."
She gasped softly, clutching her chest in mock horror. "You are evil."
He tilted his head, that smirk playing on his lips again. "You offered me a treat, remember? I'm just helping you keep your word."
"Helping me go broke, you mean," she muttered, slumping in her chair.
Just then, the waiter returned with a basket of complimentary bread and butter. Aarvi quickly smiled at him. "This is free, right?"
The waiter blinked, a little startled, then nodded politely. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good," she said, pulling the basket closer protectively. "Because this might be my dinner too."
Vivan tried to suppress a laugh, but the slight shake of his shoulders gave him away. "You're ridiculous," he said under his breath.
"And you're bankrupting me!" she shot back, though the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her irritation.
The waiter returned with their sparkling drink, and as he poured it into their glasses, Aarvi stole a small glance at Vivan. His face softened for a second - the faint glint in his eyes fading as he looked down at his phone lying untouched beside him.
She couldn't name it, but something in his silence... felt heavy. Like even surrounded by all this perfection, he wasn't really here.
A few minutes later, the waiter appeared again - this time with a tray that looked straight out of a movie.
Glossy dishes, silver lids, a faint trail of steam carrying the smell of butter and truffle. He placed each plate carefully, one after another, before bowing slightly and walking away.
Aarvi stared at the spread like she'd just been handed a royal feast.
Her jaw dropped. "Oh my God... are they feeding us or auditioning us for MasterChef?"
That earned a small twitch of amusement from Vivan - just a flicker near his mouth - but it faded too quickly. He picked up his fork, eyes drifting once more to his silent phone beside the plate.
Aarvi noticed. Again.
And suddenly, the food didn't matter. The restaurant, the luxury - none of it. He was sitting right in front of her, but his thoughts were somewhere else.
So she leaned forward a little, resting her chin on her palm.
"You know, Mr. Singhania," she said, using that mock-formal tone that always got under his skin, "you should warn people before pulling such grand stunts. I almost choked when I saw the menu."
He didn't look up. "I told you, it's my treat."
She pouted. "That's not fair. I wanted to treat you today. And now you're not even smiling."
That made him glance at her. "Why are you so desperate to see me smile?"
Aarvi shrugged lightly, pretending to think. "Because you look less scary when you do."
His lips curved before he could stop it. Just a small, genuine smile. And something in her chest fluttered - warmth, quiet and unfamiliar.
When he finally began eating, she folded her hands on her lap, refusing to touch anything.
Vivan paused mid-bite. "You're not eating?"
"Nope," she said brightly. "Too expensive. If I eat, the bill doubles. I'll survive on bread. And water."
He frowned. "Aarvi, seriously-"
"I'm serious!" she said, clutching her stomach dramatically. "Look, it's already full from worrying about the bill."
Vivan sighed, setting his fork down. "You'll insult the chef."
She grinned. "Tell him I'm poor, not rude."
That earned her a quiet chuckle. He shook his head, then said, "Fine. Don't order anything. But I'm not eating alone either."
Before she could react, he slid his plate a little toward her. "We'll share."
Aarvi blinked, startled. "What?"
"You heard me. It's just food. Eat."
She hesitated, eyes darting between the plate and his face. But when she saw how casually he went on eating - as if it wasn't a big deal - her heart gave a small, strange twist.
So, slowly, she picked up her fork and took a tiny bite from the same plate.
Their hands brushed once, then again, when they both reached for the same piece. Neither said a word. The noise around them blurred - it was just the quiet sound of shared laughter, a faint sparkle in his eyes that hadn't been there before, and her smile that lingered a little longer than usual.
When they both finished their lunch, Aarvi wiped her hands and exhaled deeply. "Okay... let's get this over with," she muttered under her breath, walking toward the counter.
Vivan followed behind, hands tucked in his pockets, watching her like she was about to cause a scene - and he wasn't wrong.
"Can you tell us the bill?" Aarvi asked the receptionist with a polite smile.
"Yes, ma'am," the girl said, checking her screen. "It's one lakh ten thousand."
Aarvi blinked. Once. Twice. Then she laughed nervously. "Oh, you mistakenly said eleven thousand as one lakh ten thousand."
The girl looked utterly confused. Her gaze flicked toward Vivan, silently asking is she okay?
Vivan just shrugged. Can't say.
The receptionist cleared her throat. "No, ma'am. It really is one lakh ten thousand."
Aarvi froze. "WHATTTTTT!?" she screamed so loudly that even the pianist in the corner stopped playing.
Everyone turned to stare.
Vivan flinched and closed his eyes for a moment, clearly regretting his life choices. "Aarvi-"
"WHAT did you feed us? Gold flakes? Diamond dust?" Aarvi continued, gesturing wildly toward the table. "Does your chef mix truffle with treasure?"
The poor girl behind the counter looked utterly terrified now, her lips twitching as if unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Vivan stepped in quickly, apologizing to the staff and the guests with a polite nod. " we are sorry" he murmured.
Aarvi gasped, offended. "what? I've eaten food before, thank you very much! Just not the kind that costs a car!"
The girl glanced at Vivan again, practically begging him to handle the situation.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's go, Aarvi."
"But how can I go without paying?" she said stubbornly, crossing her arms.
"Because I already did," he replied calmly.
Her excitement vanished instantly. "What?" she asked softly, turning toward him.
He didn't answer, just started walking toward the exit. Aarvi followed slowly, her lips pressed together, guilt replacing the shock on her face.
How could he pay? she thought, looking at him - tall, confident, unfazed as always. It was supposed to be my treat. For him.
The cold breeze brushed past the tall glass walls of Chauhan Corporates, but behind the building, away from the noise of the city, stood Yuvan Chauhan - hands in his pockets, eyes sharp and unreadable.
A man approached him nervously, glancing around before speaking. His ID card, half-hidden under his jacket, bore the name of Mehra Exports - the company owned by Kiara's father.
"You're late," Yuvan said, voice calm but cold.
"Sorry, sir... I had to make sure no one followed me," the man replied, breath heavy.
Yuvan nodded once, pulling out a small envelope from his coat. Inside was a cheque - and a card. "This is your advance. You know what to do."
The man took it, still uncertain. "Just to be clear, sir... you want me to keep an eye on Miss Kiara, right? Her meetings, phone calls, people she visits-"
Yuvan's gaze hardened. "Everything. I want to know every single move she makes."
The man nodded, slipping the envelope inside his pocket. As he turned to leave, Yuvan's voice stopped him once more.
"And remember," Yuvan said quietly, his tone low enough to send a chill down the man's spine. "If she finds out... you never met me."
The man gulped, nodding before walking away.
Yuvan stood there for a moment, looking up at the sky, his expression unreadable. "It's time, Kiara," he murmured to himself. "Let's see who you really are."
When they finally stepped out of the restaurant, Aarvi turned to him, almost shouting,
"Why did you pay? It was supposed to be my treat-"
Before she could finish, Vivan said quietly but firmly, his face expressionless,
"I know the treat was because of my birthday."
Silence.
The words froze her mid-sentence. Aarvi just stood there, staring at him - her lips parted, eyes wide, completely thrown off by his calm honesty.
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, then took a slow step toward her.
"I don't like birthdays, Aarvi," he said in a low, steady voice. "I agreed for this treat because... I saw how happy you were while talking about it. And maybe," he paused, eyes softening for a fraction of a second, "maybe after our marriage, this is the first time I've seen you this happy."
Her breath hitched. The faint smile on her lips faded as his words sank in. She looked down - feeling that quiet heaviness press against her heart.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the soft rustle of the wind, and the distant hum of the city.
Vivan finally broke the silence, his tone neutral again. "Let's get in the car." He turned to leave-
-but stopped when he heard her small, trembling voice behind him.
"But I want to celebrate your birthday."
He turned back. Aarvi smiled - a fragile, heartfelt smile.
"This is my first and last year with you," she said softly, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Maybe... I'll never get to celebrate your birthday again. That's why I wanted to."
Her voice cracked a little on the last line.
Vivan just looked at her - expression unreadable, but his eyes said everything he didn't. For a second, he didn't move. Then he let out a quiet sigh and said, almost teasingly,
"Will you give me a treat again?"
Aarvi's head shot up instantly, her eyes glistening as she nodded - fast and eager, almost childlike.
That made him smile. A small, genuine one.
He gestured toward the car. "Then come on, Mrs. Singhania."
She bit back a smile, walking toward the car, her heart beating just a little faster.
As she got in, Vivan glanced at his phone one last time before slipping it into his pocket - still silence.
He started the car without a word, but this time, the air between them felt... lighter.