The Billionaire's Bride [ Rewritten]

Part 7 | A Terrace Talk

It was past midnight, and I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. My mind kept drifting back to the morning, replaying every little detail.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t smitten when I saw Naira in that red saree. She looked breathtaking - so much so that I forgot how to look away. The streak of sindoor in her hairline stirred something unexpected in me - a quiet sense of contentment at seeing her as my wife.

I had been anxious about my parents’ reaction. However cool and modern they appear, I know how particular they are about marriage and family traditions. I was certain they wouldn’t be pleased if I suddenly introduced someone as my wife without warning. At least, that’s what I had convinced myself.

But to my surprise, they accepted Naira far more easily than I expected. She blended in with ease and warmth. There were no strained smiles or awkward pauses—just laughter, light conversation, and comfort. It felt natural. Effortless.

I suppose that’s one of her rare qualities; it’s almost impossible not to like her

Earlier in the day, Dad suggested hosting a reception to announce the marriage publicly. The idea made my heart skip, but I had already promised Naira I wouldn’t reveal anything until she felt ready—until she was comfortable with me, with us. I gave him work as an excuse, and thankfully, he agreed to postpone it for six months.

Even so, guilt lingers. I hate lying to my parents, especially when they look so relieved and happy. I might be wrong here, but I couldn’t shatter that happiness with the truth. That this was a contract marriage.

I got up feeling rather restless, pushing the duvet aside I stepped out of the room. The house was dead silent. I suppose she had already slept. I made my way to the terrace, the full moon lighting up the dark sky. The gentle winds were welcoming, and then, I noticed I wasn't alone.

Naira stood a few steps away in her pyjamas, earphones in, completely lost in her own world. She was singing—some English song I didn’t recognize—carefree and off-guard. Her voice was sweet, but what truly held me still was the way she moved, her hips swaying gently as she shifted to the rhythm.

I stayed behind her, not wanting to ruin the moment she was so clearly enjoying.

Maybe she sensed me, because she suddenly turned. Her eyes widened slightly before she pulled out her earphones, looking away with a hint of embarrassment. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s fine,” I said softly. “I enjoyed it.”
I reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. That simple gesture—those simple words—were enough to make her blush.

" I thought you slept " she muttered.

I moved to stand beside her, our shoulders almost brushing as we looked out at the buildings stretching endlessly into the night. The city lights flickered like scattered stars, quiet yet alive.