Kaira’s POV
Sunday evening arrived faster than I expected. My room was a mess—clothes scattered everywhere, shoes tossed aside, jewelry boxes lying open. I stared at the mountain of outfits I had tried and rejected.
“Aaru, what do I wear?!” I whined over the phone.
Her laughter echoed back. “You’ve been dreaming of this since you were twelve, and now you’re panicking?”
“Yes!” I snapped, then sighed. “I don’t want to look too desperate… but I also don’t want to look boring.”
“Just be you, Kaira. Sunshine, chaos, and all. He’s already obsessed,” Aaru teased.
Rolling my eyes, I finally settled on a soft yellow dress—my favorite. Little did I know, someone had already done his research.
Reyansh’s POV
Downstairs, his family stared like they had seen a ghost. Reyansh Malhotra—their ruthless, mafia-tied, workaholic brother—was standing in front of the mirror wearing a yellow shirt and matching pants.
“Oh my god,” Rudra whispered dramatically. “Is this… sunshine? On him?”
“Bhabhi hasn’t even entered our house yet, and she already controls him,” Vansh added with a grin.
“Shut up,” Reyansh muttered, rolling his sleeves with practiced precision.
When he finally walked out, tall, confident, and surprisingly striking in his all-yellow outfit, the entire family broke into cheers.
“Don’t be late, bhaiya,” Naina called. “Girls hate waiting.”
Reyansh ignored them, but the corner of his mouth curved—his heart already racing faster than it ever did in a gunfight.
At the Restaurant
I reached first, fidgeting with my clutch, praying I wouldn’t trip on my way in. But when the doors opened, I almost forgot to breathe.
Reyansh Malhotra, tall, sharp, impossibly handsome… in a yellow shirt and pants.
My lips parted. “You—yellow?”
His gaze softened, just slightly. “It suits me, doesn’t it?”
“I didn’t think you even knew colors other than black and grey,” I teased.
He pulled out my chair, his hand brushing mine. “For you, I’ll learn every shade.”
And just like that, my cheeks heated.
The waiter came, and as I tried to open the heavy leather menu, it slipped right out of my hands and smacked the table with a loud thud. Heads turned. My eyes widened. “Oops…”
Reyansh arched a brow. “Clumsy already?”
“I-It’s not my fault, the menu attacked me,” I defended, cheeks burning.
A rare chuckle escaped his lips, and before I could recover, the water glass tipped near my elbow, splashing just enough to dampen the edge of the tablecloth.
“God, this table hates me,” I muttered.
Reyansh leaned forward, sliding the glass away. “The table’s fine. It’s you who needs supervision.” His voice was low, amused, protective in a way that made my stomach flutter.
When the food arrived, it didn’t get better. I tried twirling pasta gracefully like in the movies, but the noodles had their own plans—one long strand whipped across the plate and landed dangerously close to his shirt.
My heart stopped. “Oh no. I nearly murdered your outfit!”
For a moment, I was mortified. But then, Reyansh smirked, leaned closer, and murmured, “Relax. I’d let you ruin a hundred outfits if it means I get to watch you panic like this.”
My jaw dropped. “That’s… not funny!”
“It’s adorable,” he countered, eyes glinting.
Somehow, between my clumsy disasters and his teasing remarks, the evening flowed. He listened—really listened—when I talked about my dream of opening a restaurant, his gaze fixed like nothing else in the world mattered.
When dessert came, he ordered one slice of chocolate cake and slid the plate toward me.
“You don’t want any?” I asked.
“I don’t like sweets,” he said simply. “But you do. And I like watching you happy.”
My fork froze midair. My heart did that stupid fluttering thing again.
This wasn’t just dinner. This was Reyansh Malhotra letting me see the side the world never would.
And maybe, just maybe, the chaos had made it even more perfect
Back at Malhotra Mansion
Meanwhile, his entire family sat with popcorn, waiting for updates.
“Should we call him?” Rudra asked.
“No! Let them enjoy,” Anushka (his mother) scolded, though she herself kept glancing at the clock.
Vansh smirked. “Bet he won’t even come back tonight. He’ll just follow bhabhi home.”
“Shut up,” Naina hissed, though she was already scrolling through Kaira’s Instagram again.
By the time Reyansh finally returned, much later than usual, the teasing was merciless. But the secret smile on his face was answer enough—he had found the peace his cruel world had been missing.
On the Drive Back
Kaira’s laughter still lingered in his ears as Reyansh drove through the quiet, dimly lit streets. For the first time in years, he felt light. Untouchable.
But then—suddenly—his car jolted.
The tires screeched as he swerved, stopping just inches from a black SUV that had blocked the road.
Reyansh’s smile vanished. His jaw clenched. The world he belonged to had followed him here.
The SUV door opened slowly, and a masked man stepped man stepped out, holding something glinting under the streetlight.
Reyansh’s phone buzzed with a single message:
“Stay away from her… or she bleeds.”
____________________________________
For the first time that night, Reyansh Malhotra wasn’t thinking about Kaira’s laughter or her clumsy charm—he was thinking about how to protect her from the shadows he could no longer escape.
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