📖 **CHAPTER FOURTEEN — "The Honeymoon That Wasn't"**
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### 💌 Author Note — From Aish L'Inarrestabile:
> *"Loyalty tastes sweet until blood comes knocking. Aira finally kissed him, but what happens when desire demands more than surrender? This chapter is silk sheets, slow ruin, and a king with ink on his skin... for her. You ready, mia corona d'acciaio? Let's begin."*
> — *Aish L'Inarrestabile*
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### 🔄 **Recap from Chapter 13 — "Family Clash":**
She faced his mother like a queen.
Tea was poured. Power exchanged.
One called her sharp. The other called her dangerous.
And when Yuvraj walked in, he knew:
They hadn't fought.
They had *aligned*.
But as the sun set on maternal peace, a shadow arrived —
**The Singh family landed in Rome.**
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The knock still echoed when Yuvraj moved.
He didn't let go of me. Not immediately. His grip was firm, hands on my waist like he was memorizing the curve of resistance.
> "Stay," he whispered.
> "Handle them," I replied.
He kissed the back of my neck. Once. Possessive. Promising.
Then he turned to the guard.
> "Keep them in Rome. Not in our world."
But "our world" was bleeding. Again.
I stood at the mirror long after he left, eyes locked with the woman staring back. The woman who wore her enemy's last name like warpaint. The woman who kissed him like fire — but still hadn't given him everything.
Not yet.
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He tried the next morning.
Of course he did.
A private jet. Amalfi coast villa. Champagne. Silk saris folded on a bed of rose petals. And a note:
> *"Let me ruin you under the Italian sun."*
> — *Y.M.*
I didn't go.
He sent another note.
> *"Come for the view. Stay for the king who can't sleep unless you're beside him."*
Still no.
So the next thing I knew, he was back.
At the estate. At my door. Dressed like sin and looking like punishment.
> "I booked that place for you, not me."
> "Then enjoy it, alone."
> "I don't want peace without you in it."
I turned away.
He stepped closer.
> "Aira."
> "What?"
> "I got a tattoo."
I turned back. Slowly.
He lifted his shirt.
There it was — under his ribs, carved in fresh black ink like a vow:
**"Aira"**
In my handwriting.
I had doodled my name once. Months ago. On a napkin. He'd kept it.
I stared at the ink. At his skin. At the madness of it all.
> "You marked yourself?"
> "I was already yours. This just proves it."
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I agreed.
But on *my* terms.
I said we could go — two days. No romance. No drama. Just… quiet.
He agreed.
Liar.
The Amalfi coast burned like gold when we arrived. The villa overlooked cliffs that could kill. He didn't touch me. Not yet. But he *looked* like a man undone.
And every night, we danced around fire.
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The third night, I broke.
He stood on the balcony, shirtless, sipping wine. Moonlight made him look carved by gods who only believed in lust.
I stepped out behind him, barefoot in silk.
> "Why me?" I asked.
He didn't turn.
> "Because even my madness listens when you speak."
I walked to him. Stopped.
> "You scare me," I whispered.
He turned this time. Slowly. Gently.
> "Good. I scare everyone. But I only love you."
His hand reached out. Not to pull. To offer.
I took it.
And the kiss that followed… it wasn't fire.
It was an earthquake.
He kissed like prayer, like punishment, like he'd waited lifetimes and was still starving. His hand on my back, mine in his hair, mouths clashing like war hymns — but he didn't cross the line.
He pulled away.
> "Not yet," he breathed. "I promised I'd wait until you beg."
> "Then don't wait long," I whispered.
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The return flight was silent. Except his fingers never left mine.
We arrived back in Rome just as the sun rose — golden and holy.
But the peace shattered before breakfast.
Ritika Malhotra stood waiting. Her face unreadable.
> "Your honeymoon's over," she said to me.
I frowned.
> "It wasn't a honeymoon."
> "It is now," she replied.
> "Why?"
> "Because the Singh family isn't here for revenge."
> "Then what?"
> "They're here... for **you.**"
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### 💌 Author Note — From Aish L'Inarrestabile:
> *"He inked her name into skin. She kissed him like war. But now, her bloodline has plans of their own — and they won't play fair. Chapter 15: *Jealous Hearts* is where obsession burns, secrets unravel, and Yuvraj sees red... over a single laugh."*
> — *Aish L'Inarrestabile*
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> **Yuvraj entered the estate.**
> **Paused.**
> **Watched Aira laugh with an old family friend — a Singh heir.**
> And his hand clenched.
> His smile died.
>
> *"Who the f**k is that?
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