An arranged marriage isn't something everyone wants. It's a big chance that not everyone would take. Will this one work out, or will it not?
Can love really grow when you didn't choose who you marry?
Will they be happy together? And in the end, wil...
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♪Ay Hairathe
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ANANDITA'S POV
Why did it have to be so hard? It's just a party, nothing to be scared about, but the people will be there, and then it will be all about fear. I can't do this, or I don't want to, I can say. I don't want to know people, don't want to see their fakest smiles they all will give—most of the parties were like this. And the thing bothering me more was that this is a luxurious party. Kartikeya told me his friend invited every businessperson and staff members.
"God, I hope it will end early," I sighed, smudging the nude eyeshadow over my eyelids.
I was getting ready because the dress he chose for me would look incomplete if I wore it without adding a few extra touches. So, I needed some makeup—not too much, just a bit.
I let my hair down; they were wavy and had enough volume to look good for the party. I applied red wine liquid lipstick on my lips and let it set.
As I stood in front of the floor-length mirror, I picked up the captivating red dress from the booth. After removing my previous clothes, I put on the red slit dress. The slit in the dress revealed a perfect leg, and I shivered as I looked at myself.
The dress made me feel somewhat exposed; the front and back of it plunged quite a bit. Not too much, but my mind was making a big deal out of it. Yet, it was just perfect.
The red wine color complimented my dusky skin, and a bracelet around my wrist finished the appearance. I slipped on my high heels and grabbed the clutch.
Downstairs, Kartikeya was waiting for me. He had just arrived, and I was on time; I didn't want to keep him waiting or be late for the party. I walked down with slow steps. I didn't want to fall, but facing Kartikeya like this made me worry I might stumble, shiver, and embarrass myself.
My gaze went across his back as he sat on the couch, looking at something on his phone. Nervously, I clutched the fabric to my hip bone. The echo of my footsteps reached him and caused him to turn around. I instantly hid my anxiousness behind a bland expression.
He got up from the couch, tucking his phone into the pocket of his black tailored tuxedo, shining black shoes, and not forgetting his watch. My heart thumped as I finally stood before him, a few steps away.
