Chapter 10 Threads of Deception

The morning after the family dinner started with the soft hum of servants bustling through the Malhotra household, their footsteps mingling with the faint scent of freshly brewed chai. Meera sat in the breakfast room, absently stirring her tea as her mind replayed the events of the night before.

Every glance, every word, and every suspicion from the family members lingered like a shadow. Her interaction with Ishani, especially, had left her on edge. It wasn't just Ishani's words but her probing demeanor that made Meera feel like she was a step away from being unmasked.

"Lost in thought again?"

The deep voice startled her, and she nearly dropped her spoon. Arjun walked in, his shirt crisp and his presence commanding, as always.

"Just... thinking," Meera replied, setting her spoon down.

Arjun poured himself a cup of coffee, his movements precise and deliberate. "Thinking won't get us anywhere. Action will."

Meera frowned. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," Arjun said, sitting down across from her, "that we need to start showing people what they want to see. You and I need to act more like a married couple."

Meera stiffened at his words. "So, what? You want us to put on some grand show for everyone?"

"Yes," he said bluntly. "If we don't, they'll keep digging. And the more they dig, the closer they'll get to the truth."

She didn't reply immediately, her mind racing. "Fine," she said finally. "But don't expect me to be perfect at it."

Arjun smirked faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You'll figure it out. You're good at pretending, aren't you?"

The jab stung, but Meera didn't let it show.

The rest of the day was consumed with preparations for a charity gala hosted by the Malhotras. Meera was expected to accompany Arjun, her role as his wife on full display for the elite guests who would attend.

As she got ready in her room, her fingers hovered over the row of sarees laid out for her. Each one was more extravagant than the last, the fabrics shimmering with intricate embroidery. She chose a deep red one, the color reminding her of the bridal attire she'd worn just days ago—a reminder of the lie she now lived.

When she stepped out of the room, Arjun was waiting in the hallway, dressed in a tailored black suit. His eyes flicked over her briefly before he nodded. "You look fine."

"Thanks," Meera said dryly, rolling her eyes.

They walked down the grand staircase together, their steps in sync. Meera could feel the weight of every gaze on them, the silent expectations of the family and the staff who watched from the shadows.

At the gala, Meera found herself overwhelmed by the sheer opulence of the event. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, and the air buzzed with laughter and conversation. Arjun guided her through the crowd, introducing her to influential figures with practiced ease.

"This is my wife, Meera," he said, his hand resting lightly on her back.

Each introduction felt like a performance, the warmth in Arjun's voice and the smile on his face so convincing that even Meera began to question the authenticity of their relationship.

"You're a lucky man," one older gentleman said to Arjun, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

Arjun's hand lingered on Meera's back as he replied, "I know."

For a moment, Meera forgot to breathe. The sincerity in his tone was unnerving, even though she knew it was just for show.

The evening passed in a blur of conversations, champagne toasts, and polite smiles. But as the gala drew to a close, Meera found herself standing alone on the balcony, the cool night air a welcome reprieve from the suffocating crowd inside.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Arjun approaching.

"You disappeared," he said, his tone neutral.

"I needed some air," she replied.

Arjun joined her at the railing, his hands resting lightly on the ornate metal. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable.

"Tonight went well," Arjun said finally.

Meera nodded. "It did."

He turned to look at her, his gaze steady. "We're getting better at this."

"Better at pretending?" she asked, a faint bitterness in her tone.

Arjun's lips curved into a faint smile. "Something like that."

Meera looked away, her eyes focused on the city lights in the distance. She didn't reply, her thoughts too tangled to form words.

As the night deepened, she couldn't help but wonder how long they could keep up this act—and what would happen when the cracks in their facade became too wide to ignore.

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