Devil's Bride

Wife??

Maya busied herself in the sleek, modern kitchen of Ayaan’s penthouse. The contrast between her traditional cooking methods and the high-tech appliances amused her. She had insisted on making something to thank Ayaan for letting her stay, even if he had practically dragged her here.

A fragrant aroma soon filled the air as she prepared a feast of traditional dishes—soft rotis, aromatic dal, and a spicy curry that reminded her of home. She carefully placed everything on the table, arranging it with a touch of pride.

Ayaan walked in just as she was wiping her hands on her apron. His white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his strong forearms, and his sharp gaze immediately fell on the table laden with food.

“What’s all this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dinner,” Maya said simply, avoiding his eyes.

“Dinner?” he repeated, stepping closer. “You went through all this trouble?”

“It’s no trouble,” she said quickly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I just… I thought you might like it.”

Ayaan pulled out a chair and sat down, inspecting the spread before him. “Traditional food? From scratch? You do realize I have a chef for this, right?”

Maya frowned, crossing her arms. “It’s not the same as homemade food. Just try it before you start teasing me.”

With a smirk, Ayaan picked up a piece of roti and dipped it into the curry. As he took a bite, his expression shifted, and for a moment, Maya couldn’t tell if he was impressed or just hiding his amusement.

“Well?” she asked, her voice laced with anticipation.

“It’s… good,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “Better than I expected.”

Maya let out a small breath of relief, her lips curving into a shy smile.

“But,” Ayaan added, his tone suddenly playful, “you do know this is something a wife traditionally does for her husband, right?”

Maya froze, her cheeks instantly turning crimson. “W-what?”

“You know,” he continued, his smirk widening. “Cooking with such care, making sure everything is perfect. It’s a very wifely thing to do.”

“I-It’s just food,” Maya stammered, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Ayaan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he fixed her with an intense gaze. “I don’t need to read into anything. Actions speak louder than words, Maya.”

Her blush deepened as she fidgeted with the edge of her apron. “I was just being polite.”

“Polite?” Ayaan teased, his voice low and smooth. “If this is how you treat someone as a guest, I wonder how much effort you’d put in as a wife.”

“Ayaan!” she exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.

He chuckled, thoroughly enjoying her embarrassment. “Relax, Maya. I’m just teasing.”

But as she peeked at him through her fingers, she couldn’t help but notice the warmth in his eyes, the softness behind his teasing words. It made her heart flutter, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would truly mean to be someone like Ayaan’s wife.

As they continued their meal, Ayaan couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her simple gesture of cooking for him had touched something deep within him, even if he masked it behind playful words. And Maya, despite her protests, felt a strange sense of happiness seeing him enjoy her food.