A career-driven girl, content in her life with close friends and family, finds herself entangled with a stoic billionaire lacking love . Read to know what happens as they enter a marriage of convenience
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The sun hangs low in the Italian sky, casting a golden glow over the serene waters of the Venice canals. I glance at Tanzeela, her eyes wide with wonder as we approach the sleek, black gondola waiting at the edge of the pier. My heart thrums in my chest, a steady beat that grows louder with each passing day of our honeymoon. I squeeze her hand, guiding her as she steps into the boat, the wood creaking softly under our weight.
"Careful," I murmur, watching her every move.
She laughs, a sound like the chiming of delicate bells, and settles onto the cushioned seat. "I think I’ve got it, Salar."
The gondolier, a middle-aged man with a kindly face, pushes off from the dock and begins steering us through the narrow waterways. The world seems to shrink around us, the ancient buildings leaning in as if to share their secrets.
Tanzeela’s face is a canvas of awe, her eyes reflecting the shimmering water and the vibrant hues of the setting sun. I find myself unable to look away, her beauty outshining even the most picturesque scenery.
"Isn’t it magical?" she whispers, her gaze drifting over the landscape.
"Yes," I reply, my voice soft. "It’s incredible, but nowhere near as enchanting as you."
She turns to me, her eyes sparkling. "I didn’t think you were the romantic type."
I shrug, a smile tugging at my lips. "Italy has a way of bringing out the hidden romantic in everyone. But maybe it’s just you, Tanzeela. You make everything feel magical."
She laughs again, and I feel a rush of warmth, a need to capture this moment, to hold onto it forever. As she turns to gaze at the sunset, her profile bathed in the golden light, I reach into my bag and pull out my sketchbook, the pages worn and familiar beneath my fingers.
"What are you doing?" she asks, curiosity lacing her tone as she glances back at me.
"Just a little something," I say, flipping to a blank page. "You keep enjoying the view."
She tilts her head, her lips curving into a soft smile before she turns back to the scenery. "Alright. But don’t keep me in suspense for too long."
I nod, my heart racing as I pick up my pencil. For a moment, I simply watch her, letting the details of her face sink in. The gentle curve of her jaw, the delicate arch of her brows, the way her lips part slightly as she breathes in the cool evening air. Every feature is a masterpiece, a testament to the beauty I have come to cherish.
As I begin to draw, my hand moves with a life of its own, guided by a deep, abiding love that has taken root in my heart. I never thought I would ever fall in love, but now that I have, I can't imagine breathing without her. I hadn’t believed in love at first. It seemed a fanciful notion, something for poets and dreamers. But Tanzeela has changed all that. Her kindness, her strength, her unwavering support—each has chipped away at my skepticism, leaving me defenseless against the depth of my feelings for her.
