A Bargain Made with Frosting

Ch.31. The Unveiling: A Wife, a Secret, and a Shot at Success

The Mumbai twilight deepened, draping the bustling city in long shadows. Shivay, impeccably dressed but feeling like a fraud, navigated the carefree chatter of Mr. Singhania's party. This, his last shot at securing the deal, was hosted by the potential investor, Mr. Singhania, a close friend of Mr. Jackson.

His forced smile couldn't mask the worry twisting his gut. Every polished guest, every vibrant conversation, was a stark reminder of the deal hanging by a thread. He scanned the room for Mr. Jackson, but a familiar, mocking voice cut through the noise.

"Shivay!" Rohit in a designer suit clinging to him and a smug grin plastered on his face drawled, feigning camaraderie. "Going after Mr. Jackson?  Tough competition, wouldn't you say?"

Rohit chuckled, malice in his eyes. "Wouldn't dream of interfering. Just a word of advice: Mr. Jackson likes a beautiful woman on his arm. Shame yours couldn't make it tonight."

Fury surged through Shivay, but he forced himself past Rohit. He weaved through the crowd, finally reaching Mr. Jackson, a man known for his shrewdness and dislike for pleasantries.

"Mr. Jackson," Shivay greeted with a firm handshake. "A pleasure to see you again."

Mr. Jackson gave a curt nod. "Oberoi, right? Made it to the party. Interesting. I was discussing you with others. What surprised me is most haven't heard about your wife. None have even seen her. Curious, wouldn't you say? If you have your wife here, perhaps we can clear this up and move forward with the deal."

Shivay opened his mouth to explain, but Mr. Jackson was called away. "Be back in a minute. Bring your wife till then if you want to continue."

Dejected, Shivay turned, a chill running down his spine as he spotted Natasha, stunning in a designer gown, holding court. Her eyes met his, a sly smile playing on her lips, a silent challenge.

Natasha sauntered over, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Shivay," she purred. "My offer stands. Introduce me as your wife and secure the deal."

"I'd rather lose the deal," Shivay replied coldly.

Before Natasha could retort, Mr. Jackson reappeared. "So, Mr. Oberoi, did you bring your wife?" he asked, looking at Natasha beside Shivay.

Shivay, pushing away Natasha's hand on his arm, began, "Actually, Mr. Jackson..."

Just then, a hand grasped his tightly from behind. A shiver ran down his spine as he recognized the touch. He whispered, "Annika..."

"Sorry I'm late," she said, her voice breathless. "Traffic was awful."

Natasha's smugness vanished as she saw another woman beside Shivay, their hands entwined. Shock flickered across her face as she broke their moment.

"Shivay, who is this girl?"

Ignoring Natasha, Shivay addressed Mr. Jackson, "Mr. Jackson, this is my wife, Annika. Annika, this is Mr. Jackson."

Annika, her face flushed but her eyes sparkling with defiance, offered Mr. Jackson a confident smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jackson."

Mr. Jackson, momentarily thrown by the unexpected turn of events, quickly regained his composure. His gaze flicked between Annika and Shivay, sharp and assessing. "Interesting," he finally conceded, his voice less curt than before. "So, Mrs. Oberoi, a pleasure. But it seems... I have this feeling we've met before."

Annika and Shivay exchanged a quick glance. Shivay's eyes searched her face, silently asking where they might have crossed paths. Annika, however, held his gaze steadily, silently conveying it was their first encounter.

Mr. Jackson pondered for a moment, then a flicker of recognition crossed his face. "Ah, yes! I recall now. You're the winner of the baking competition held a few months back. Congratulations on that!"

Annika offered a polite smile. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson. Though, I don't remember seeing you at the event."

"That's because I wasn't out front," Mr. Jackson explained. "One of the judges was my wife, the organizer of the competition as well. So I saw you compete, but you participated as Annika Sharma, correct?"

"Yes," Annika confirmed. "I wanted to win based on my own skills, not because I'm Mr. Oberoi's wife."

Mr. Jackson chuckled, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "Mr. Oberoi," he addressed Shivay, "it seems you have a very independent woman for a wife."

Shivay returned a proud smile. "Indeed, Mr. Jackson."

Mr. Jackson gestured towards the bustling party. "Why don't you let your wife enjoy the party while we discuss some business?"

Relief washed over Shivay. He turned to Annika, who gave him a reassuring nod. "Go ahead, I'll be fine here," she whispered.

With a final grateful look, Shivay followed Mr. Jackson, leaving Annika alone amidst the high-society crowd. Despite the dazzling lights and lively chatter, Annika couldn't help but feel a surge of nervousness. This was, after all, her first time navigating such a high-powered social scene.

Despite the tremor of nerves in her stomach, Annika took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and plastered on a confident smile. She scanned the room, the sea of unfamiliar faces a daunting sight. Suddenly, a glint of red caught her eye. There, standing a few feet away, was the woman who had been by Shivay's side earlier, her expression now a venomous mix of jealousy and anger.

Natasha, her designer gown a stark contrast to Annika's simple elegance, practically vibrated with fury. In her wildest dreams, she hadn't imagined Shivay's wife would be present here.  This unexpected turn of events threw a wrench in her plans.

Annika met Natasha's hostile gaze head-on. "Hello," she said, her voice calm and collected. "I'm Annika Oberoi, Shivay's wife. And you are...?"

Natasha bristled, her arrogance returning in full force. "Natasha Malhotra," she replied curtly. "Shivay's close friend. Although," she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I must admit, I haven't heard anything about a wife."

Annika met Natasha's gaze head-on, her tone mirroring the other woman's coolness. "Perhaps your friendship with Shivay isn't as close as you think," she countered. "Because I, on the other hand, haven't heard of you." The last part was delivered with a hint of amusement, a clear jab at Natasha's inflated sense of importance.

Natasha's carefully constructed facade crumbled under Annika's calm yet pointed response. A flush crept up her neck, and her eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint. "Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "Shivay and I have known each other for years. We're practically family."

Annika raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.  "Family, huh? Interesting choice of words, considering you seem surprised by his marital status." She paused, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.  "Perhaps you should re-evaluate the nature of your 'friendship' with Shivay, Ms. Malhotra."

The barb hit its mark. Natasha's fists clenched at her sides, and she opened her mouth to retort, but just then, a vibrant voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Natasha? There you are! I've been looking all over for you," it boomed. "And who might you be talking to?"

Annika, surprised by the interruption, whipped around to see the source. Her suspicion was instantly confirmed – it was Rohit.

His expression, however, mirrored her own astonishment. He seemed genuinely shocked and amazed to see her standing there.

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