Beneath The Storm (Completed)

Chapter-8: The Taste Of Home

The next morning, Inaara completed her morning puja, her hands folded in prayer as she stood before the small temple in the penthouse.

It was a quiet, sacred moment for her—a slice of serenity in a world that now felt increasingly alien. The faint fragrance of incense wafted through the air, and she found herself clinging to the peace it brought. With a sigh, she blew out the diya, a small smile playing on her lips as she whispered a prayer for strength.

Returning to her room, Inaara prepared for her first day back at work after the wedding. She selected a simple yet classy formal outfit—a white blouse paired with a navy blue pant.

She examined herself in the mirror, ensuring every detail was in place. Her newly married status was unmistakable; the sindoor in her hairline, the mangalsutra around her neck, and the chuda on her wrists were all vivid symbols.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath, nodding to herself. She was ready.

Inaara walked down to the dining hall, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She sat at the dining table and waited for Atharv.

She drummed her fingers on the table, her eyes wandering over the luxurious but impersonal surroundings. After a few minutes, Atharv finally appeared, looking sharp in his tailored suit, his eyes glued to his phone. He didn’t even spare her a glance as he sat down across from her.

Breakfast was served, and Inaara's face fell immediately. A plate of bland, boiled food lay before her—steamed vegetables, a plain omelet, and a small bowl of oatmeal.

She stared at it, her lips pressing into a thin line. *Again?* she thought, her stomach churning with disappointment.

She was craving something with flavor, something comforting, but it seemed that wasn’t an option here.

One of the servants noticed her expression and cautiously asked, "Is there any problem, Madam?"

Her eyes flickered to Atharv, who looked up from his phone, his gaze sharpening. She forced a smile, trying to mask her discontent. "No, it’s fine," she said, picking up her fork.

She started eating, though every bite felt like a chore. She could hardly swallow the dry, tasteless food, but she managed to finish the meal, her face a mask of reluctant acceptance.

When breakfast was over, Atharv stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. "I have a meeting," he said curtly and left without another word.

Inaara sighed inwardly. She left the penthouse shortly after, accompanied by her two bodyguards and a driver.

She had requested Sangeeta to limit her security detail to just two bodyguards for her office outings; more than that would make her work difficult.

Arriving at the office, she was greeted by a chorus of congratulations. Her boss and the entire staff were waiting in her cabin, eager to celebrate her wedding.

They presented her with a large bouquet of flowers, and she thanked them politely, her cheeks flushed with unease.

She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, especially not from people who had always treated her as just another colleague.