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Avyansh Raizada.

That was the name of my soon-to-be husband and, quite coincidentally, also the name of the CEO of the company I had spent years dreaming of becoming a part of. AR Architects. Rich. Powerful. Successful. Nice... no, definitely not nice. 

From whatever little I'd heard about him, he was anything but nice, kind, sweet or literally any adjective that made a person sound remotely approachable. Cold? Yes. Arrogant? Absolutely. Emotionally unavailable? Probably. The kind of man who looked like smiling physically hurt him? Most definitely.

The funniest part in all of this? I had never met him.

Sounds ridiculous, right?

The first time I was going to see the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with would be at our engagement, which was happening in just a few days. 

Imagine meeting your future husband for the very first time when everyone's already calling him your fiancé. Honestly, if someone narrated my life to me, I'd think they were describing a Wattpad story. Except this wasn't fiction. 

Unfortunately... it was my reality.

I wasn't ready for this marriage. Not even close.

My parents had already made the decision, the families had already agreed, the destination had already been booked and apparently all that was left was for me to smile, wear expensive clothes and pretend I was excited. 

Nobody asked me if I wanted to get married. Nobody cared whether I was ready. I was twenty-five. I had dreams, goals and an entire career planned in my head before marriage was even supposed to enter the picture. 

But somewhere between family discussions and social status, my opinions had quietly disappeared.

I was already working at an architecture firm. It wasn't as huge or prestigious as AR Architects, but it had its own name in the industry, and I loved my work. Could I have gotten into one of the biggest firms through my family's contacts? Easily. 

Being an Oberoi came with privileges people spent years chasing. My surname alone could've opened doors that others struggled to knock on. But I never wanted that. I wanted my own identity. I wanted people to look at a building and say, "Ira Oberoi designed this," not "She's an Oberoi, obviously she got the opportunity."

AR Architects wasn't just another company to me.

It was the company.

Every architect dreamed of working there. Their junior architects had more talent than the senior architects in half the firms across the country. Every project they touched became a benchmark. Every design they created became an inspiration.

 That's exactly why I never applied there immediately after graduating. I wanted experience first. I wanted a résumé strong enough that when I finally walked into AR Architects, nobody could ever question why I deserved to be there.

And now... Instead of preparing for an interview... I was preparing to marry the CEO. Life really had a twisted sense of humour.

Marrying the CEO of your dream company sounded like something only Wattpad girls fantasized about. In stories, everyone would be screaming, "Girl won in life!" or "She's so lucky!"

Lucky? Please. In real life it meant overthinking every single possible scenario until two in the morning.

Who would've thought my father had such high-level contacts that he happened to be friends with the father of my dream company's CEO? Sometimes I genuinely wanted to ask him, "Dad, were you secretly collecting billionaires as Pokémon cards all these years?"

And yes... I know I've said "dream company" at least ten times in the last five minutes.

But that's because it is my dream company. I literally breathe architecture.

If someone woke me up at three in the morning and asked me to identify different architectural styles, I'd probably do it half asleep. That's how obsessed I am.

Then there's Avyansh Raizada. Around six foot three. I'm barely five foot four.

The height difference? Absolutely adorable. Everything else? Terrifying.

Because from everything I'd heard, he hated this marriage just as much as I did. He never wanted marriage. Never wanted children. Never believed in love. Basically, he sounded like the human version of a locked vault.

Meanwhile... I believed in love. Not the unrealistic fairytale where everything was perfect. Just... the kind where someone chose you every single day.

The kind where the guy loved the girl so much that he'd fight the whole world just to keep her. The way Steve loved Nancy, stranger things core. The way Tom looks at Zendaya. The way Virat looks at Anushka. The way Riteish loves Genelia. Those tiny gestures. Those effortless smiles. The comfort. The friendship. The certainty.

That's the kind of love I wanted. Instead...

I was marrying a complete stranger. And by the looks of the few pictures I'd seen... He gave off complete Michele Morrone vibes. Tall. Sharp jawline. Expensive suits.

Permanent serious expression. The kind of face that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover rather than family wedding photographs. I sighed dramatically before burying my face into my pillow.

"I don't even know how he'll react on our wedding night." The thought alone made me freeze.

"I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

"Oh my God..."

"What if he expects everything to magically become normal just because we're married?"

"What if he's one of those extremely quiet people who never speaks?"

"What if he judges literally everything I do?" I covered my face with the pillow.

"No."

"No, Ira."

"Stop."

"It's two in the morning."

My brain, however, clearly had other plans.

"What if he's secretly into all those dark romance books people keep talking about? What if he's exactly like those cold mafia heroes who look like they haven't smiled since birth? What if he is actually into red room. Fuck. I mean- those aren't bad but hot-."

I immediately gasped at my own thought.

"Oh my God..."

"Why am I even thinking like this?" I threw the pillow across the room.

"My life is getting destroyed and this is what I'm worried about?"

"Relax, Ira."

"Please relax." Taking a deep breath, I climbed out of bed and walked towards the full-length mirror in my room. The digital clock on my bedside table read 2:03 A.M.

Of course. Two a.m.

The official time when every terrible thought known to mankind decided to visit me. Fresh mehendi covered both my hands. The wedding destination had already been finalised even though the engagement date itself had barely sunk into my brain. Destination wedding.

Cool. Ha. Ha.

Wonderful. I stared at my reflection. My facial was done. My manicure was done. My pedicure was done.

Every skincare routine I forced upon muself had somehow worked because, annoyingly enough, my skin actually looked good. I leaned closer to the mirror.

"Hm."

"The glow is nice."

"Definitely because of the face mask."

"Not because I'm getting married." A small laugh escaped my lips before disappearing just as quickly. Everything about me looked perfect. Everything... Except my life. I rested my forehead against the mirror and closed my eyes.

"I can't do this."

"I can't."

"I can't believe Ira Oberoi is actually getting married." The words still didn't feel real. Marriage. Husband. Raizada.

None of it sounded like my life.

Slowly, I walked back towards my bed before collapsing onto the mattress, clutching the pillow tightly against my chest. The room was silent. The entire house had fallen asleep hours ago.

But inside my head... There wasn't a second of peace. There were too many questions. Too many fears. Too many possibilities. And somehow... Every single one of them ended with the same name.

Avyansh Raizada.

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The moment the elevator doors slid open onto the executive floor of VR Luxe, I knew something was wrong.

Not because someone came running towards me. Not because there was shouting. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

It was... silent.

The kind of silence that didn't belong inside one of the country's biggest luxury corporations. Usually, this floor was alive with conversations, ringing telephones, hurried footsteps and employees rushing from one meeting to another with expensive folders tucked beneath their arms. 

Today, however, every single person seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. Heads remained lowered over laptops, keyboards clicked hesitantly, and even the sound of heels striking against the polished marble floor echoed louder than usual. It almost felt as though everyone was trying their hardest not to attract attention.

I adjusted the tablet against my chest before slowly stepping out of the elevator, my eyes instinctively travelling around the corridor. Near the conference room, six members of the design department stood together. Nobody was speaking.

 One man loosened his tie in frustration while another leaned against the wall, rubbing both hands over his face. A young designer quietly collected the scattered presentation sheets from the floor after accidentally dropping them, her trembling hands making it difficult to gather them properly. She looked as though she was trying very hard not to cry.

I frowned.

"What happened?" One of the senior designers looked at me before letting out a defeated sigh.

"You just got here?" I nodded slowly.

"What happened?" He glanced towards the large black conference room doors before lowering his voice.

"Mr. Raizada." That was it. Nothing more. No explanation. No details. Just two words. Somehow... they were enough. I looked towards the closed conference room, then back at him.

"The Milan project?" He nodded.

"Rejected."

"The entire proposal?"

"The entire proposal." I couldn't help but wince.

The Milan luxury residence had been one of VR Luxe's biggest international projects this year. The design team had spent almost three weeks preparing every layout, every render and every tiny interior detail. Most people would've celebrated after finally presenting it.

Apparently... Not here.

"What was wrong with it?" I asked quietly. Another architect let out a humourless laugh.

"He said it looked expensive." I blinked in confusion.

"...Isn't that the point?"

"No." The man shook his head.

"He said expensive and luxurious aren't the same thing." Before I could ask anything else, the conference room doors opened. Every conversation died instantly.

Six senior designers walked out one after another, each carrying their files in complete silence. One woman kept her eyes fixed on the floor while another rubbed away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Nobody dared look back towards the conference room. Nobody complained. Nobody argued.

They simply accepted it. I watched them disappear towards the elevators before quietly exhaling.

Poor people.

"Good morning."

I turned to find Aditya walking towards me with a file tucked beneath his arm. Unlike everyone else, he looked exhausted rather than nervous.

"Morning, Aditya sir."

He smiled faintly.

"I don't know how good it'll be." I laughed softly.

For a brief moment, I found myself glancing towards the closed cabin doors at the end of the corridor. Sometimes I genuinely wondered whether Veeransh Raizada even knew what resting meant. The man practically lived inside this building.

My thoughts broke as Aditya handed me a thick black folder.

"He wants this in his cabin." I accepted it carefully.

"And..." He paused before giving me a sympathetic smile.

"...good luck." I looked down at the folder before letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Thank you for sounding like I'm about to enter a battlefield." Aditya almost smiled.

"I didn't say battlefield."

"No." I looked towards the cabin.

"You just pointed at it." A few nearby employees actually looked up for the first time that morning. Someone quietly whispered,

"She's brave." Another muttered under his breath,

"Or unemployed."

Ignoring them, I walked towards the large black double doors. The golden nameplate reflected beneath the warm ceiling lights.

VEERANSH RAIZADA

Chief Executive Officer

I stopped outside the cabin, adjusted the files neatly against my chest and took one slow breath before knocking twice.

"Come in." His voice was calm. Controlled. Cold enough to make me unconsciously straighten my posture. I slowly pushed the door open.

The cabin looked exactly the way it always did. Everything was perfectly aligned. Every file. Every chair. Every decorative piece.

Not even a single pen lay out of place. Yet the person standing inside somehow made the room feel even more disciplined. Veeransh Raizada wasn't sitting behind his desk.

He was standing beside a large architectural model placed at the centre of the room, one hand resting inside the pocket of his trousers while the other slowly rotated the model on its platform. His eyes travelled across every corner of the miniature luxury villa with a concentration so intense that it almost felt wrong to interrupt him.

I quietly stepped inside.

"Good morning, sir." He didn't answer. Not immediately.

For several long seconds, he simply continued studying the model as though he'd forgotten I was even standing there. Only then did he finally speak.

"Tell me..." His gaze never left the model.

"...what's wrong with this design?"

He still hadn't looked at me.

His attention remained fixed on the architectural model resting at the centre of the cabin. It was a breathtaking luxury villa, every tiny detail crafted to perfection. The infinity pool overlooked a miniature coastline, the landscaped gardens wrapped around the structure elegantly, and even the outdoor lighting had been represented using tiny embedded LEDs.

It looked flawless. At least... To me.

I carefully stepped closer, placing the folder against my side before studying the model from where I stood. My eyes travelled over the cantilever balconies, the glass façade, the open courtyard and the curved entrance driveway.

"I..." I hesitated, not wanting to sound foolish. "I don't think anything's wrong with it, sir." The cabin fell silent. For a brief moment, I wondered if I'd answered too quickly.

Veeransh finally lifted his gaze from the model and looked at me. Not angry. Without saying a word, he walked around the table, slow and unhurried, before stopping beside me.

"Come here." I immediately moved closer. He pointed towards the miniature villa.

"Imagine you've travelled twelve hours on a private jet." I looked at the model again.

"You've just signed a contract worth five hundred crores." His voice remained calm, every word measured.

"You step out of your car." His finger traced the curved pathway leading towards the entrance.

"This..." He tapped lightly against the tiny stone walkway.

"...is the first thing you experience." I nodded, listening carefully.

"Now tell me..." His eyes shifted towards me.

"...what do you feel?" I opened my mouth before closing it again.

"I... I don't know."

"Exactly. He turned back towards the model. "You don't know."

Picking up one of the miniature trees, he placed it a few centimetres away from its original position. Then he removed a decorative sculpture entirely. He rotated the model once again before stepping back.

"Look again." I frowned. The villa looked... Different. I couldn't explain why. The entrance suddenly felt wider. More welcoming. The building itself looked grander than it had a minute ago. My eyes widened slightly.

"It..." I leaned forward unconsciously.

"It feels bigger."

"It isn't." His reply came instantly.

"I only changed your perspective." My gaze remained fixed on the model. No wonder people feared presenting in front of him. He didn't just see buildings. He saw experiences. He walked towards the large glass windows, slipping both hands into the pockets of his trousers as he looked out over the city.

"People think luxury is marble." He spoke quietly.

"They think it's chandeliers. They think it's imported furniture." A faint pause followed. "They're wrong."

I instinctively uncapped my pen. Without being asked. I began writing. He noticed. I knew he did. But he continued speaking as though he hadn't.

"Luxury..." He slowly turned around.

"...is how a person feels the moment they walk through the door." My pen paused over the page.

"Anyone can spend money." His gaze shifted towards the model again.

"Very few know how to create emotion." I underlined the sentence twice. It didn't feel like office instructions anymore. It felt like a lecture I'd remember for years. He walked back towards his desk before picking up the presentation file.

"The Milan team focused on impressing the client." He placed the file in front of me.

"I want them to understand the client." Another page turned.

"They've designed a beautiful villa." He looked directly at me.

"I asked for a home." Silence settled between us. For the first time since entering the cabin, I understood why people admired him as much as they feared him.

He wasn't impossible because he enjoyed making life difficult. He was impossible because perfection was the only standard he accepted. He closed the file.

"I want the design department back in the conference room." I quickly noted it down.

"Nine-thirty."

"Yes, sir."

"The revised concept reaches me before lunch." I hesitated. Just for a second. It wasn't because I wanted to question him.

It was because I genuinely couldn't understand how an entire luxury project could be redesigned in a matter of hours. The tiny pause didn't escape his notice.

He looked up. One eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.

"...Problem?"

"N-No, sir."

"Speak." I swallowed.

"It..." I chose my words carefully.

"It'll take time."

"It will." His expression remained unchanged.

"So don't waste it." My lips immediately pressed together.

"Sorry, sir." He gave a single nod before walking past me towards another display shelf, where dozens of material samples had been arranged in perfect order.

"Never confuse difficult with impossible, Ms. Meher." His voice was quieter this time.

"If something seems impossible..." He picked up a piece of Italian marble and placed it beside a walnut wood sample.

"...it simply means you haven't found the right solution yet." I looked at him for a long moment. There was something strangely inspiring about the way he spoke.

No wonder VR Luxe stood at the top of the industry. It wasn't built on luxury. It was built on impossible standards. Gathering the files against my chest, I gave a small nod.

"I'll inform the team."

He had already begun reviewing another blueprint. Whether he'd heard me or not... I wasn't sure. As I quietly walked towards the door, his voice stopped me once again.

"Ms. Meher." I immediately turned. He still hadn't looked up from the blueprint.

"Next time..." A brief pause.

"...come five minutes earlier." I blinked.

"It gives us five more minutes to improve something." There was no sarcasm. For some reason, that one sentence stayed with me far longer than the rest.

"Yes, sir."

Only after stepping out of the cabin and gently closing the door behind me did I finally let out the breath I'd been holding. One of the employees rushed towards me almost immediately.

"How was it?"

I looked back at the closed cabin for a brief second before lowering my gaze to the notebook in my hands, now filled with hurried scribbles and underlined sentences.

"...I think," I murmured thoughtfully, "the man doesn't build luxury." I looked towards the cabin one last time.

"He builds perfection."

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The aircraft finally came to a halt, and a small smile found its way onto my lips as I unbuckled my seatbelt. Looking outside the tiny window, the familiar sight of Delhi Airport came into view, making my heart flutter with an emotion I couldn't quite describe.

Home.

It had been four years.

Four long years since I'd left this city to pursue my dream of becoming a doctor. Four years since I'd walked away from everything that once meant the world to me. It felt strange standing here again, almost as though time had paused, waiting for me to return.

Pulling my suitcase behind me, I slowly walked through the arrival gate, taking in every little thing around me. The constant announcements echoing through the airport, families waiting impatiently with flowers in their hands, children running around excitedly, the familiar hustle that somehow only Delhi had. It all felt... comforting.

A thousand memories rushed through my mind one after another.

Late-night drives through the city.

Bunking lectures just to sit at our favourite café for hours.

College festivals that somehow always ended in chaos.

The roadside momos I'd craved almost every week while living in America.

The endless laughter.

The friendships.

The life I'd left behind.

A small laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head. God... I'd missed Delhi far more than I had realised. But among all those memories, one face refused to leave my mind.

Rudransh Raizada.

The smile on my lips slowly faded. Out of everything this city had given me... He was the one thing I'd missed the most. The one person I'd loved with everything I had.

The one person I had willingly walked away from. Sometimes I wondered if he still hated me.

Sometimes I wondered if he ever thought about me. And sometimes... I wished he didn't.

Because if he had truly moved on, at least one of us would've found peace. I let out a slow sigh, forcing those thoughts back into the corner of my mind where they'd stayed buried for the last four years.

"Not today, Naira," I whispered to myself. "You've just come home." Just then, my phone vibrated in my hand.

Dad ❤️

Where have you reached? We're outside the airport.

A smile instantly returned to my face. Without wasting another second, I pressed the call button. The phone barely rang once before he answered.

"Naira! Beta, where are you?"

"I just landed, Papa," I laughed softly, adjusting the handle of my suitcase. "I'm walking towards the exit."

"Good. Your mother has been asking every two minutes whether you've come out or not."

"I can hear you!" Mumma's voice echoed from somewhere behind him.

"Tell her I'm coming."

"Come quickly. We're standing near Gate Three."

"I'll be there in two minutes." After hanging up, I slipped my phone back into my bag and hurried towards the exit. The automatic glass doors opened.

And the first thing that welcomed me... Was Delhi's scorching heat. The blast of hot air hit my face so suddenly that I instinctively took a step back.

"Oh my God!" I stared at the bright afternoon sun in complete disbelief.

"What on earth is this?"

"I actually forgot Delhi could get this hot." I fanned my face dramatically with my boarding pass before mumbling to myself, "America really spoiled me." Still shaking my head, I looked around the parking area until my eyes landed on a familiar white SUV parked a little ahead.

Standing beside it were my parents. The moment my mother spotted me, her face lit up with the brightest smile.

"Mumma!"

I completely forgot about the unbearable heat and rushed towards them, leaving my suitcase behind for a moment as I wrapped my arms tightly around her. She hugged me just as tightly, gently cupping my face the moment we pulled apart.

"My daughter..." she whispered, her eyes already glistening.

"I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," I smiled, hugging her once again before turning towards my father. He opened his arms with a grin.

"What? Your old man doesn't get a hug?" I laughed before throwing my arms around him.

"Of course you do." He patted my head affectionately.

"Doctor sahiba has finally come home." I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Papa, don't start."

"No, let me be proud," he chuckled. "My daughter is officially Dr. Naira Kapoor now."

Hearing those words out loud made something warm bloom inside my chest. Years of sleepless nights. Countless exams. Clinical postings.

Endless cups of coffee. All of it had finally been worth it. I was finally a doctor. The thought alone made me smile. As Papa loaded my suitcase into the car, I quickly slipped into the backseat beside Mumma, still dramatically fanning my face.

"I'm serious," I complained. "How do people survive here? It's boiling! I stepped outside for five seconds and I already miss America's weather." Both of them burst into laughter.

"You've become too used to cold weather," Mumma teased.

"I have!" I nodded dramatically.

"I literally forgot Delhi feels like someone left the oven open." Papa laughed from the driver's seat.

"Give it two days."

"You'll be complaining that America is too cold."

"I absolutely will not."

"You will."

"I won't."

"You definitely will."

I crossed my arms stubbornly while Mumma laughed beside me.

The drive home passed in the happiest way possible. Mumma kept asking me whether I was eating properly, whether I was sleeping enough, whether I still skipped breakfast like I used to. Papa, on the other hand, wanted to know everything about my internship, the hospital, my professors, and all the surgeries I'd assisted in.

By the time I finished telling them about finally completing my MBBS and officially beginning my journey as a doctor, both of them looked prouder than I had ever seen them.

Watching them smile... For the first time in years... It truly felt like I was home.

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Hey readers,

I hope you all are doing well. I have just started this story and i hope you all will like it and will give it a lot of love, It might seem to be boring at first but as the wedding time comes, it would be far more interesting.

The fights, arguments, moments all would be bombarded. Do let me know which couple you think will win most of the hearts?

All the three girls are fun chubby and chaotic, and I am waiting when you all will see how rude, arrogant and mean our boys are.

Vote, comment and share. 

Loveyouall,

Bye.

(aanyawrites_xx)