Chapter 7: Growing Attachments

Diya groaned, shifting slightly as warmth surrounded her. The bed was way too comfortable, and the soft scent of expensive cologne clung to the sheets.

Wait.

Expensive cologne?

Her eyes snapped open.

And landed on Parth.

Lying right beside her.

His arm was draped over her waist.

Diya's brain short-circuited.

Her entire soul left her body.

WHAT. THE. HELL?!

Her first instinct? Shove him off the bed.

Her second instinct? Check if she was still dressed. (She was, thank God.)

Her third instinct? PANIC.

Parth stirred, mumbling something in his sleep.

Diya froze.

Oh, no. Nope. Not dealing with this.

She slowly lifted his arm, trying to escape.

Bad idea.

Parth tightened his grip.

Diya let out a tiny, very undignified squeak.

And that's when he woke up.

For a second, Parth just stared at her.

Then, realization hit.

Silence.

Long. Excruciating. Silence.

Then—

"WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED?!"

Diya gasped. "Excuse me?! YOU'RE THE ONE HOLDING ME LIKE A DAMN TEDDY BEAR."

Parth jerked away so fast, he nearly fell off the bed. "I—YOU—WHAT?!"

Diya sat up, flustered. "This is your fault!"

"My fault?!"

"Yes! Your giant caveman arms wouldn't let go!"

"I was ASLEEP!"

"SO WAS I!"

They glared at each other, panting.

Then—

A knock.

"Sir, Ma'am, breakfast is ready."

Diya and Parth stared at the door.

Then at each other.

Then at the bed.

Realization dawned.

The staff.

They couldn't find out.

Diya and Parth scrambled out of bed, fixing their hair, trying to look as un-suspicious as possible.

Parth hissed. "Not a word."

Diya glared. "As if I'd TELL ANYONE."

She shoved past him.

Parth ran a hand through his hair, completely disoriented.

What the hell was happening?

--

Later that day, they went sightseeing, but something felt different.

Parth was acting weird.

And by weird, Diya meant possessive.

When the tour guide complimented her, Parth glared.

When a random waiter flirted, Parth snatched the menu out of his hands.

When a group of tourists asked for a selfie with her, Parth pulled her away.

Diya frowned. "Are you okay?"

Parth muttered, "I'm fine."

Diya squinted. "You're acting jealous."

Parth scoffed. "I am NOT."

Diya smirked. "Oh? So if I smiled at that French guy over there, you wouldn't—"

Parth dragged her away.

Diya laughed. "Oh my God. You totally are."

Parth grumbled.

He absolutely was.

--

Just when things couldn't get worse, Ananya showed up.

Dressed in designer everything, she sauntered into their hotel lobby like she owned the place.

"Parth," she purred.

Diya rolled her eyes.

Parth sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Ananya pouted. "You didn't think I'd let you honeymoon without a visit?"

Diya muttered, "That's exactly what we thought."

Ananya ignored her.

She turned to Parth, eyes soft. "We need to talk. Alone."

Parth hesitated.

Diya crossed her arms.

Parth gave her a look—the "I'll handle this" look.

Diya responded with the "Do whatever you want, but I will eat all the desserts without you" look.

And then she walked away.

Parth felt uneasy.

---

Alone with Parth, Ananya played her cards well.

"You've changed," she said, brushing imaginary lint off his jacket.

Parth stiffened. "It's been years, Ananya."

She smiled sadly. "Yes... but I still know you."

She sighed. "Parth, this thing with Diya—it's not real."

Parth clenched his jaw. "I know."

Ananya tilted her head. "Then why do you look at her like she's getting under your skin?"

Parth said nothing.

Ananya smirked. "Love makes people weak, Parth. Don't forget that."

Parth stared.

Ananya always had a way of messing with his head.

And for the first time in years, he wasn't sure what he felt.

---

Diya wasn't feeling great.

It started with a mild headache.

Then came the chills.

By the time she got back to the hotel, she was full-blown sick.

Parth found her curled up on the couch, shivering.

His heart clenched.

"Diya?" he crouched down, touching her forehead.

She mumbled something incoherent.

Parth panicked.

He'd dealt with business empires, corporate wars, literal death threats.

But this? A sick Diya?

He had no idea what to do.

So he did what felt right.

He made her soup.

He brought her medicine.

And when she sleepily grabbed his hand, refusing to let go—

He stayed.

---

The next morning, they came back home and Diya informed she is still not feeling completely well so her mother asked her to visit and stay with them for few days , just as Diya started packing, someone unexpected showed up.

Kabir.

Diya's childhood friend.

Parth immediately disliked him.

Kabir immediately disliked Parth.

Tension crackled in the air.

"I'm taking Diya home," Kabir said, folding his arms.

Parth raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Kabir's jaw tightened. "She doesn't belong in your world."

Parth smirked. "And she belongs in yours?"

Diya sighed. "Boys, please—"

Kabir ignored her. "I care about her."

Parth's eyes darkened. "So do I."

Kabir laughed bitterly. "Oh, please. You only care because of your contract."

Parth stepped forward, voice low, dangerous. "And you? You've been waiting for years, haven't you?"

Kabir stiffened.

Parth's smirk widened. "You're in love with her."

Diya froze.

Kabir froze.

And suddenly, everything became very, very complicated.

---

Leave your comments and vote. This story is not proofread so please point out the mistakes 

Thank you