Chapter 11: A Forced Romantic Getaway!

"A honeymoon? But we have Already gone last month" Diya choked on her coffee, staring at Dadaji as if he had grown another head.

Parth, on the other hand, barely reacted. Just a slow, almost bored blink. "Dadaji, that's not necessary."

"Nonsense!" Dadaji declared, waving his cane dramatically. "It's been two months since your wedding, and you two haven't gave me a good news!"

Diya coughed again, now for real. "Good news? This marriage isn't even—"

Parth shot her a warning look. She snapped her mouth shut.

Dadaji smiled, clearly pleased with himself. "I've booked you both a weekend getaway at my friend's luxury resort. No work, no distractions. Just you two, rekindling the romance."

Parth sighed. "Dadaji, we're very busy—"

"Too busy to nurture your marriage?" Dadaji narrowed his eyes. "Parth, I may be old, but I'm not blind. You two need time alone."

Diya forced a smile. "Really, Dadaji, you don't have to—"

But Dadaji wasn't listening. He was already calling the butler to pack their bags.

Diya turned to Parth, whispering harshly, "Fix this!"

Parth shrugged. "You try saying no to him."

They both turned back to Dadaji, who was smirking.

They were doomed.

The moment they arrived at the Malhotra-owned resort, Diya knew she was in trouble.

First, it was stunning—all glass walls, ocean views, and candlelit dinners.

Second, the staff had already been briefed to treat them like a "madly-in-love couple."

Which meant—

"Mr. and Mrs. Malhotra, welcome! Your honeymoon suite is ready!"

Diya flinched. "Honeymoon... suite?"

The manager smiled. "Only the best for our favorite couple."

Diya gave Parth a look. "Our favorite couple?"

Parth smirked. "We're very popular."

She muttered under her breath, "I hate you."

Parth led her inside their suite, and she nearly choked.

It had one bed.

A giant, luxurious, stupidly romantic bed.

Covered in rose petals.

Diya's brain short-circuited.

Parth, on the other hand, barely looked affected. "Looks comfortable."

Diya whipped around. "There is one bed!"

He shrugged. "I've seen beds before."

"You're missing the point!"

Parth smirked. "What? Scared you'll fall in love?"

Diya threw a pillow at him.

Their first issue arrived at dinner.

The resort had arranged a "romantic couple's evening", complete with candlelight, live music, and a very nosy audience.

Diya wanted to curl up and die.

Parth, of course, looked bored but elegant, sipping wine like he wasn't suffering.

"You could at least pretend to enjoy this," Diya muttered.

Parth smirked. "I am enjoying this."

She narrowed her eyes. "Liar."

Before he could respond, a waiter approached. "Would you two like to participate in our couple's game?"

Diya blinked. "Couple's... game?"

The waiter grinned. "It's simple! One of you is blindfolded, and the other feeds them a dessert. It's about trust!"

Diya paled. "Trust?"

Parth smirked. "Sounds fun."

She glared. "No. Absolutely not."

But the staff and other guests were watching.

And before she could escape—

A blindfold was tied around her eyes.

Diya cursed under her breath. "I hate you."

Parth's low chuckle sent shivers down her spine. "Open your mouth."

Her breath hitched.

"What?"

He leaned in, voice teasing. "How else am I supposed to feed you?"

Diya was going to die.

Or kill him.

Either way, someone was not surviving this honeymoon

Later that night, Diya sat on the balcony, sipping tea, trying to ignore the growing weirdness between them.

This was fake.

But why did it feel... too real?

And then—

A woman's voice.

She turned and saw Parth talking to someone near the poolside. A woman—tall, elegant, gorgeous.

Diya didn't recognize her, but she hated her instantly.

The woman laughed, touching Parth's arm.

Diya's blood boiled.

She wasn't jealous. Nope. Not at all.

...Okay, maybe a little.

She stormed back inside, muttering, "I don't care. I don't care."

Except—

When Parth walked in, looking annoyingly amused, she did care.

"You're glaring," he observed.

Diya scoffed. "No, I'm not."

He smirked. "Are you jealous?"

She laughed sarcastically. "Of what? Your flirt-fest by the pool? Please."

Parth raised an eyebrow. "You sound jealous."

She folded her arms. "I'm not."

He took a step closer. "Really?"

Another step. "Not even a little?"

Diya's pulse spiked. "I—I don't care."

Parth grinned. "Good. Because she's my childhood friend."

Diya's face burned. "I hate you."

Parth chuckled. "You've mentioned."

That night, as they lay in separate sides of the bed, the silence stretched.

Then—

"Parth?"

"Hmm?"

Diya hesitated.

She didn't know what she wanted to say.

Maybe something sarcastic. Maybe something serious.

Instead, what came out was—

"Why did you marry me?"

Parth was silent.

Then, quietly—

"Because I had to."

Diya frowned. "That's not an answer."

Parth turned his head, meeting her eyes in the dark.

And for a moment, something unspoken passed between them.

Something dangerous.

"Sleep, Diya," he murmured.

But she didn't.

Because she had a feeling—

This fake honeymoon was about to become too real.