The invitation arrived the next morning.
Anaya found it on the breakfast table—thick ivory paper, embossed gold lettering.
**Malhotra Group Annual Gala**
Her fingers paused over the card.
"A public event," Aarav said from across the table, already reading his emails. "You'll attend with me."
She nodded slowly. "When is it?"
"Tonight."
Her heart skipped. "Tonight?"
"Yes."
She stared at the card. "I don't even have anything appropriate to wear."
"You will," he replied calmly. "Everything is arranged."
Of course it was.
---
By evening, Anaya stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing herself.
The dress was elegant, deep emerald green, falling gracefully against her frame. Her hair had been styled softly, and minimal jewelry shimmered at her collarbone.
She looked… like she belonged.
And that terrified her.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in," she said quietly.
Aarav stepped inside.
For a moment, he said nothing.
He stood still, eyes scanning her from head to toe—not with desire, but with something quieter. Something unreadable.
"You're ready," he said finally.
She nodded. "So are you."
He was dressed in a black tuxedo, crisp and composed, the embodiment of power.
Together, they looked like a couple.
And that was the problem.
---
The gala was held at a grand hotel ballroom, glowing under crystal chandeliers.
The moment they entered, attention shifted.
People turned. Whispers followed. Cameras flashed discreetly.
Aarav placed a hand at the small of her back.
The contact was light, almost professional.
But her breath caught anyway.
"Stay close," he murmured.
She did.
They moved through the crowd, greeting business associates, donors, investors.
Anaya smiled politely, said little, exactly as she had been taught.
She noticed how Aarav subtly guided conversations away from personal questions. How he placed himself between her and overly curious guests. How he shielded her from the press without making a scene.
It was protection.
But not warmth.
---
"Mrs. Malhotra."
Anaya turned.
Rhea stood before them, dressed in silver, confident as ever.
"You look… stunning," Rhea said, smiling at Anaya.
"Thank you," Anaya replied softly.
"I must admit," Rhea continued, glancing briefly at Aarav, "I never imagined seeing him like this."
"Like what?" Anaya asked.
"Married."
Something in Rhea's tone made Anaya uneasy.
Aarav's expression tightened slightly. "Enjoy the evening, Rhea."
She smiled knowingly. "I always do."
As Rhea walked away, Anaya felt the atmosphere shift.
"Do people talk about you two?" Anaya asked carefully.
"Sometimes," Aarav replied.
"About what?"
He didn't answer immediately. "About what no longer exists."
That only raised more questions.
---
Later that evening, as the music softened and guests gathered near the balcony, Anaya stepped outside for air.
The city glowed beneath the night sky.
She leaned against the railing, breathing in the cool breeze.
Footsteps approached.
"You shouldn't wander off alone," Aarav said quietly.
"I needed space," she replied. "It gets overwhelming."
He stood beside her, close enough that she could sense the warmth of him.
"You handled yourself well," he said.
"Because I'm pretending," she replied. "Just like everyone else here."
He glanced at her. "Is that what you think?"
"Yes," she said softly. "That everyone here is wearing a mask."
Silence stretched between them.
"You're not pretending," Aarav said finally. "You're surviving."
She turned to him. "Isn't that the same thing?"
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Aarav looked away first.
"You should come inside," he said. "People are starting to notice your absence."
She nodded. "Alright."
As they turned back, Anaya realized something unsettling.
In this room full of people, Aarav felt closer than he ever had before.
And that closeness scared her more than the contract ever did.
---