Her Deviant Husband | [✓]

Wedding Arc 6 (M)

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Vote Target : 150 to 180+
Comment Target : 150+

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I was halfway through pretending to drown in a sea of lavender-scented bubbles when Aarna nearly dislocated my shoulder.

"AIYANNA. Look. At. This. MAN." She shoved her phone so close to my face I could practically see the pores on Ivaan Malhotra's nose.

I blinked, processing the image—shirtless, broody-eyed, artfully shadowed jawline. "Oh. My. God."

"I'd commit all seven deadly sins just to touch his face," Aarna muttered like she was in a trance. She sighed dramatically and sank deeper into the steaming jacuzzi beside me, tossing the phone onto a nearby towel.

Across the room, Athira di sat calmly in her spa chair like a literal goddess being prepped for the heavens. Her face was layered with gold-infused cream, her feet dipped in rose-petaled water, and two beauticians hovered around her.

"You guys are too loud," she muttered, barely opening her mouth as not to disturb the face mask.

"Sorry, your highness," I said, snapping a wet towel in her direction with absolutely no remorse. "Some of us aren't getting a royal ritual worthy of Cleopatra's reincarnation."

Athira di smirked. "Some of us are getting married in a few days and need to glow like the moon."

"Meanwhile, I'm glowing like a rotisserie chicken," I mumbled, poking my red cheek. "Did they say steam for ten minutes or cook until golden brown?"

The door to the spa creaked open, and in walked Debasmita Roy—my Nani, my favorite kind of chaos, and the reigning queen of timeless elegance.

Wrapped in a deep emerald silk robe that shimmered like moonlight, her slightly silver-streaked hair was coiled into a towel turban, not a strand out of place.