"I think it is better if you see for yourself. But I promise you, beta, it is not meant to cause you pain. Quite the opposite."
I studied his face, trying to read what he was not saying. But Papa had always been hard to read.
"If you are truly uncomfortable going as his wife," Papa continued, "then come as an employee of New Gen Corp. Many of the company's staff will be there. You can blend in with them."
An employee. That felt somehow worse, but at least it was a role I could hide behind.
"Fine," I said finally. "I will go."
???
At seven o'clock, I got ready in the emerald green saree. It was beautiful, I had to admit. The silk felt cool and luxurious against my skin, and the color brought out the warmth in my complexion. The blouse had been tailored perfectly to accommodate my growing belly.
I did my makeup carefully, applied a bindi, and left my hair loose in soft waves. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.
I looked like Armaan Khanna's wife.
I looked like I belonged in his world.
The thought made my chest tight.
At exactly eight o'clock, there was a knock on the bedroom door. When I opened it, I found Aryan standing there, dressed sharply in a suit, his expression warm and encouraging.
"You look beautiful, bhabhi," he said softly. "Are you ready?"
"Aryan, you do not have to call me that. I do not know if—"
"You are my bhabhi," he said firmly. "My brother's wife. Nothing changes that."
He offered me his arm, and after a moment's hesitation, I took it.
We walked down the stairs together and out into the garden. It had been transformed into something magical. Fairy lights hung from every tree. Tables were set up with white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. A small stage had been erected near the fountain.
And there were people. So many people. I recognized several faces from the office. Board members. Investors. Senior management.
This was not a small family gathering. This was a major event.
Aryan guided me through the crowd. People nodded politely at me, probably recognizing me from the office.
Then I saw Armaan.
He was standing near the stage, talking to a group of businessmen. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that made him look every inch the powerful CEO. His hair was styled back, his expression composed and professional.
But when his eyes found me across the garden, everything about him changed. Softened. Heated.
He excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward the stage. A microphone had been set up there.
The music lowered. People began to quiet down, turning their attention toward the stage.
Armaan stepped up to the microphone, and the garden fell completely silent.
"Thank you all for coming tonight," he began, his voice amplified across the garden. "I know many of you are wondering why I called this gathering. It is not a business announcement. It is not a product launch. It is something far more important. Something personal."
He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found me.
"For those of you who do not know, I am someone who values privacy. I keep my personal life separate from my professional life. I do not share details about my relationships or my private affairs. Many of you have speculated over the years about my life outside of work. Some of you thought you knew the truth."
His gaze hardened slightly.
