Devil's Bride

Enchanted by her

Ayaan leaned back in his chair on the terrace, swirling the glass of wine in his hand as he watched Maya across the garden. She was fussing with the flowers again, her delicate hands brushing over the petals, her braid swaying gently as she moved.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

How was it that a girl so simple, so unpolished compared to the glamorous women who threw themselves at him in the city, could hold his attention so completely?

Maya was nothing like the women Ayaan was used to. The city girls wore designer dresses, their faces painted with makeup, their laughter hollow as they tried to win his attention. They knew his reputation and power, and they flaunted themselves, hoping to be the one to tame the mafia king.

But Maya? She was an entirely different world.

She didn't try to impress him-if anything, she went out of her way to avoid his gaze. Her beauty wasn't in fancy clothes or jewelry; it was in the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited, the way her laughter felt genuine, like music that softened the edges of his hardened heart.

Her simplicity enchanted him. The faint blush on her cheeks when she was flustered drove him mad in a way no sultry glance from a socialite ever could.

"She doesn't even realize what she's doing to me," Ayaan murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

That evening, Ayaan found Maya sitting on the swing under the large banyan tree. The twilight painted her face in soft hues of pink and gold, and for a moment, he just stood there, drinking in the sight of her.

"You know," he said, stepping forward, "you have a habit of hiding in plain sight."

Maya turned, startled as always by his sudden appearance. "I'm not hiding. I'm just enjoying the quiet."

Ayaan smirked, sitting on the swing beside her, his arm draped casually over the chain. "If this is you enjoying the quiet, why does your face look so red?"

"It's not red!" she said quickly, touching her cheeks.

He chuckled. "Oh, it's red. And I think I know why."

Maya turned away, her heart pounding. "You're impossible."

"And you're irresistible when you're flustered," he countered smoothly.

She glanced at him, her brows furrowing. "Why do you always say things like that?"

"Because it's true," Ayaan said, leaning closer. "Maya, you're beautiful. And not in the way those city girls think they are-with their expensive dresses and fake smiles. Your beauty is... natural, effortless. It's in the way you laugh, the way you scowl at me when I tease you. It's in the way you care so much about everyone around you."

Maya blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. "I-I don't know what to say," she stammered.

"You don't have to say anything," Ayaan said softly, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Just keep being you. That's all I want."

As the days went by, Ayaan found himself unable to resist finding excuses to be near her. He teased her relentlessly, not because he wanted to annoy her, but because he adored the way her cheeks flushed, the way she bit her lip when she was nervous.

One evening, he found her sitting in the kitchen, peeling apples for his grandfather.

"Why do you always have to do this kind of work?" he asked, sliding onto the stool across from her.

"Because I like it," she replied, not looking up.

He reached over, taking an apple from her hands. "You know, I could hire someone to do this for you."