My sem exams are coming up soon, and I was so stressed that I couldn't write, plus my health wasn't great. But hey, I'm here now. This chapter marks the beginning of their dark romance era. If you want me to update a new chapter soon, vote and comment, It really motivates me to write.
Thank you, and enjoy the chapter.
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— 𖤐 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :
"Hahahaahaha, oh my god! Bitch, you really got me for a second there! Oh my god, Hahaha." I see Zara falling off the chair she was preached on, in the video call.
She tumbles out of the frame, but her laughter echoes through the call.
I just told Zara everything.
I told her that I'm marrying her brother, and she stared at me silently for few seconds as if waiting for me to crack up and say, 'Gotcha, I was tryna prank you.'
But when I kept a straight face and said I'm serious, she herself bursted into laughter like some lunatic who totally lost it.
Her hand appeared in the video frame as she gripped the table and settled back onto the chair.
Currently it's late in the evening and I'm in seated in Mr. Malik's dining room with my laptop on the table, video calling Zara.
Mr. Malik drove us here right after the 'teasing -Miss Ivanov' session in his office.
I can't quite figure out what came over him, he was continuously teasing me, and I'd be lying if I say his words didn't make my heart flutter.
Once we entered his mansion, he reverted to his usual Antarctica self, totally convincing me that he has some sort of split personality disorder.
He vanished into his room as soon as we entered the mansion and then reappeared clad in his casual clothes—simple black t-shirt and trousers—looking effortlessly charming like some prime boyfriend material and I couldn't tear my gaze away from his fresh gorgeous face and the way his glistening dark locks fell messily on his forehead partially veiling his stunning eyes.
His gaze swept over me as well, when I stepped out of my room at the same time as him, wearing a deep red cardigan and denim shorts.
His penetrating eyes roamed all over my form before fixating on my bare legs momentarily, sending a rush of warmth to my cheeks and neck.
It's not like I wore shorts for the first time. I have often worn them, but only around people I'm comfortable with.
But it was the first time I wore shorts in front of Mr. Malik.
Does that mean I'm comfortable around him now? Probably.
With a subtle throat clearing, he tactfully averted his eyes, ignored me completely, and disappeared into the kitchen to prepare dinner for both of us.
