A U T H O R' S P O V
The bottle twirled again.
Around.
And around.
Until it stilled with a soft clink-
Nakshatra.
Again.
A loud groan escaped her lips as everyone laughed. "Did this damn bottle fall in love with me or what?" she muttered, half to herself, half to the bottle like it personally offended her.
"Alright," the host of chaos, Isha, grinned devilishly, leaning back on the velvet couch with a wine glass twirling in her manicured fingers. "Let's make this round interesting, shall we?"
A hush fell across the room. The kind of silence that stretches just before something wicked unfolds.
"The bidding," Isha announced. "Will be for... a secret."
Nakshatra narrowed her eyes. "What kind of secret?"
Isha smiled like a woman who knew too much. "The kind you've never told anyone. The kind that would change how people look at you."
Nakshatra's jaw clenched. Her fingers instinctively tightened around the empty glass.
Shreesh smirked. "This is getting cruel."
"Cruel is fun," Aishwarya replied, tossing back her shot. Her glare returned when Shreesh opened his mouth again.
"Not her this time," she snapped under her breath, scowling at the bottle.
But it was too late.
The bidding had begun.
Isha: "Ten million."
Shreesh opened his mouth.
"Fift-"
Only to shut it right back as Aishwarya kicked him under the table. Hard.
Aditya: "Twenty million."
Nakshatra looked at him. Straight into the eyes of the man who wore danger like a second skin. His lips curled into the laziest, most infuriating smirk.
"Careful," she said coolly, "you might end up owning pieces of me I'm not willing to sell."
He leaned back, amused. "Who said I'm not already collecting them?"
That did it.
Isha clapped once. "Alright, Dr. Nakshatra. Either you tell us your biggest secret or take the shot."
The room waited.
She stared at the vodka glass in front of her.
Her secret sat heavy on her chest. It wasn't meant for this room. These people. Not yet.
Not when it still burned like it happened yesterday.
Without a word, she grabbed the glass, tilted her head back-
And downed it.
The vodka hit her throat like fire, but her eyes didn't flinch. Her voice came out steady.
"Some truths are better when they stay mine."
And just like that, she placed the glass down with a soft clink, the same way the bottle had betrayed her minutes ago.
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER!!
"Adhwittttttttt," Nakshatra slurred, sprawled across the plush velvet couch, cheeks flushed pink from all the vodka shots and... questionable dares.
He raised a brow. "That's the third time you've screamed my name in the last five minutes. What do you want now?"
"I want... chaat."
"It's 2 a.m."
"And your point is?" she blinked up at him like he was the one being unreasonable.
He let out a sigh that was way too fond. She was curled up like a stubborn cat, trying to hold her phone upside down and type her own name into Swiggy. It wasn't working.
"I want spicy aloo tikki," she announced. "With extra chutne-"
Before she could finish that culinary wishlist, Adhwit bent down, scooped her up like she weighed nothing, and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of sass and vodka.
"HEY! PUT ME DOWN!" she squealed, pounding weak little fists against his back.
"No," he replied calmly, carrying her through the dimly lit hallway of their private estate.
"This is illegal!" she cried.
He smirked. "So am I, sweetheart."
---
The Morning After
Nakshatra groaned as the sunlight stabbed through her eyelids like a personal attack. Her head felt like it had been stomped on by an elephant in heels.
"Mmmf," she buried her face into the pillow. "Kill me."
"I could," came the familiar, stupidly smooth voice. "But I took the day off instead."
She cracked one eye open-and there he was. Adhwit Oberoi, barefoot, shirt rolled up to his elbows, towel slung over his shoulder, and a mug of lemon tea in hand.
"What are you doing here?" she croaked.
He walked over and gently placed the mug on her side table.
"Taking care of the woman who drinks like she's got a liver made of steel."
She stared at him. "You... took a day off?"
He hummed. "Sent my assistant into panic mode. Worth it."
Nakshatra sat up slowly, blinking as he knelt down-and gently lifted her feet into his lap.
"Wait-what are you doing?"
"Massaging your feet."
Her jaw dropped. "Adhwit! That's-what the hell! men don't-this is not-"
"Exactly why I'm doing it." He looked up at her, calm and unbothered. "You're not some woman people get to worship during Navratri and disrespect the rest of the year. You're my woman. My goddess. And I serve my goddess."
Her throat dried. She didn't know whether to cry or kiss him or faint. Maybe all three.
"Stop looking at me like I grew horns," he teased, pressing his thumbs into the arch of her foot gently. "You deserve softness, Nakshatra. Even if it comes from the devil himself."
"You're insane," she whispered.
"I know," he said, placing a kiss on her ankle. "And I'm yours."
He gave her pain reliever and she drifted off into her slumber again.
YOU ARE READING
•𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐰!•
Romance"She might be a wicked lady for everyone, but she is the most virtuous lady I've ever known!✨"
