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Chapter 44

A day to remember

Destined with Fate ♡

Advika's Pov:

The sunlight streaming through the curtains woke me up before my alarm could. I stirred and opened my eyes slowly, only to find myself wrapped securely in Vivan's arms. His face was calm, almost boyish in his sleep, a stark contrast to the confident and composed man he usually was.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I took in the sight. Last night’s moments replayed in my mind, making my cheeks heat up. I couldn’t believe how easily he could fluster me.

I tried to move, but his grip tightened around me, pulling me closer. "Where do you think you’re going?" His voice was low and raspy from sleep, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I was just—" I started, but he opened his eyes and looked at me with a smirk, cutting me off.

"Trying to run away again, Mrs. Raichand?" he teased, making me roll my eyes.

"No, I was just trying to get up. Unlike some people, I don’t spend all day lazing around," I shot back, trying to sound confident.

He chuckled, his laugh deep and warm. "We’re in Paris, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world to relax."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Relax? I thought this trip was about exploring the city."

"It is," he said, letting go of me and stretching. "But first, we need breakfast. Then we can plan our day."

I got up, grabbing my robe and heading toward the bathroom, muttering, "You’re impossible."

As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I heard him call out, "And yet, you married me!"

I shook my head, a smile forming on my lips despite myself. He always knew how to get under my skin, but somehow, that was starting to feel less annoying and more… endearing.

Today was going to be interesting, I thought as I splashed water on my face. Paris awaited, and with Vivan by my side, I had a feeling it would be a day to remember.

The evening air in Paris was crisp and cool as we strolled through the bustling streets. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful the city was. Everywhere I looked, people were speaking French—waiters, shopkeepers, even children playing on the sidewalks.

"How does everyone speak French so easily?" I asked Vivan, half-joking, half-serious.

He smirked, clearly amused. "Maybe because we’re in France, Advika."

I rolled my eyes. "Don’t be smart. I mean, it sounds so... complicated! Teach me something."

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to learn French?"

"Yes! Just the basics," I said enthusiastically, feeling a little proud of my sudden determination.

He turned to me, a playful smile on his lips. "Alright, repeat after me. Bonjour, comment ça va?" (Hello, how are you?)

"Bonjour, comment... c-sa wa?" I stumbled over the words, my tongue struggling to keep up.

He laughed softly, correcting me. "No, no. It’s ‘ça va,’ not ‘c-sa wa.’"

I sighed and tried again. "Bonjour, comment ça va?"

"Perfect!" he said, his smile widening. "Now, say this: Je m'appelle Advika." (My name is Advika.)

"Je m'appelle Advika," I repeated, this time more confidently.

"Good. Now, say: Merci beaucoup." (Thank you very much.)

"Merci... boo-coup?"

"Beaucoup," he corrected, dragging out the syllables for me.

I tried again, but by now, my enthusiasm was waning. "This is so hard! Why do you even need so many sounds for one word?"

He chuckled. "It’s not that bad. Just a little practice, and you’ll—"

"Nope! I give up," I interrupted, throwing my hands in the air. "I know Hindi and English, and that’s more than enough for me."

He laughed at my dramatic tone, shaking his head. "You’re something else, Mrs. Raichand."

"And you’re lucky to have me," I said with a smirk, making him laugh again as we continued our walk through the enchanting streets of Paris.

We were back in the cozy warmth of our hotel room after a long day exploring Paris. I sat on the couch, my legs tucked under me, while Vivan stood by the window, looking out at the city lights.

Something clicked in my mind, and I turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "By the way, I forgot to ask you. You paint too, right?"

He glanced at me, amused. "I do. Why?"

I shrugged. "Why didn’t you ever tell me?"

He smirked, walking closer. "You didn’t ask."

I scoffed at his response. "Oh, so I have to ask every single thing about you? Like, ‘Hey Vivan, do you paint? Do you secretly play the violin? Do you speak ten languages?’"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying my mock outrage. "Well, I thought you liked surprises."

I narrowed my eyes. "What surprises?"

He leaned against the edge of the couch, looking at me mischievously. "I have a surprise painting for you."

My curiosity peaked instantly. "What? You’ve already painted something for me? When? Where is it? Let me see!"

He shook his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Not so fast, Mrs. Raichand. You’ll see it when the time is right."

I pouted. "That’s unfair. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not let me see it!"

"Patience is a virtue, Advika," he said smugly, clearly enjoying my frustration.

I crossed my arms, leaning back on the couch. Two can play this game. Smirking, I said, "Well, you know... I dance."

That got his attention. His eyebrows shot up, and he tilted his head, intrigued. "You dance?"

"Yes," I said, stretching the word out to sound mysterious.

He narrowed his eyes, now clearly curious. "Since when? And why didn’t you tell me before?"

I grinned. "You didn’t ask."

He let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Touché, Mrs. Raichand."

"See? You’re not the only one with surprises," I said, feeling victorious as I stood up and walked toward the window.

But behind me, I could feel his eyes on me, his curiosity growing with every passing second. And it was my turn to enjoy the upper hand.

The city lights twinkled outside as I leaned against the window, enjoying the peaceful silence of the room. Vivan broke it with his usual teasing tone.

“I have an idea,” he said, walking up to me with a mischievous smile. “You want to see how I paint, right?”

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

“And I want to see your dance,” he added, his voice smooth and tempting. “Let’s do one thing—you dance, and I’ll paint you. What do you say?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. Then I tilted my head, crossing my arms. “Tch, tch. Bad idea, Mr. Raichand. I only do classical dance, you know... ghungroo and all. And I don’t think you’ll be able to find ghungroo here in Paris.”

He chuckled, the glint in his eyes making me nervous. “Princess, you’ve taken your husband for granted.”

I frowned, unsure where this was going. “What do you mean?”

His smirk widened as he leaned in, whispering, “Just wait and watch. I’ll get you the ghungroo.”

I blinked in surprise. “What? In Paris? Are you serious?”

He nodded confidently. “Very. You forget who your husband is.”

I shook my head in disbelief, laughing lightly. “Alright, Mr. Raichand, I’ll wait and watch. But don’t blame me when you can’t find them.”

His smirk turned into a full grin as he turned toward the door. “Challenge accepted, Mrs. Raichand.”

I stood there, watching him leave the room, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity. Knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually pulled it off. And the thought of him going through so much effort for me left a strange warmth in my chest.

Advika's POV

I was sitting on the couch, scrolling through my phone, when the door clicked open. Vivan walked in, carrying a bag in one hand and a blank canvas in the other, his face lit up with a triumphant smirk.

He held up the bag, jingling it slightly, and said, “See? I did it.”

My eyes widened as I heard the familiar sound of ghungroos. He actually did it. I couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Alright, Mr. Raichand,” I said, standing up. “Let me go and change and wear the ghungroos. Meanwhile, you set up your masterpiece zone.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Masterpiece zone? Sounds about right. Go ahead, Mrs. Raichand, and don’t take too long. My canvas and I are waiting.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, grabbing the bag from his hand. “I’ll be back in no time. You better make this worth it.”

As I headed to the bedroom to change, I could hear him humming to himself while setting up the canvas and paints. I smiled to myself, shaking my head. The things he does to surprise me…

I watched as Vivan placed the brush down with an agonizing slowness, his eyes locked onto mine. There was something different in his gaze—a fire, an intensity that made my heart race uncontrollably.

He started walking toward me, each step calculated, like a hunter closing in on his prey. My chest tightened, and I knew I needed to get away from him.

I quickly tried to stand up, hoping to escape the storm in his eyes, but before I could take a single step, his hand wrapped around my wrist. He pulled me close, so close that I could feel the heat radiating from him.

My breath hitched as his smirk grew wider. His eyes, dark and unreadable, held mine captive. I tried to look away, to regain some composure, but he tilted my chin up gently, forcing me to meet his gaze

Vivan’s hand tightened slightly around my wrist, pulling me closer until there was barely any space between us. His eyes roamed over my face with a burning intensity, and my heart felt like it would leap out of my chest.

"Running away?" he murmured, his voice a velvet drawl that sent a delicious shiver down my spine. "You know, princess, you shouldn’t start something you can’t handle."

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but the smirk on his lips told me he noticed the effect he had on me.

"Your dance was beautiful," he said, his fingers trailing up my arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "But do you know what would be even more breathtaking?"

My voice betrayed me when I tried to answer, a mere whisper escaping instead. "What?"

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, "You, dancing only for me... with nothing but the moonlight to dress you."

His words hit me like a storm, sending my senses spiraling. My face burned, and I instinctively tried to step back, but his hand on my waist stopped me.

"Don't run, Advika," he said, his voice husky and low. "You’re mine... every move, every breath, every beat of your heart belongs to me now."

I felt my knees weaken, his words igniting a fire deep within me. His other hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek.

"Tell me, princess," he whispered, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine. "Are you ready to surrender to me, or should I show you why running won’t work?"

The room felt smaller, the air heavier, and I couldn’t think—couldn’t breathe. All I knew was him, his touch, his voice, and the way he looked at me like I was his entire world.

My heart thudded against my chest as his words sank in, his tone laced with something so seductive it made my knees weak.

I felt my cheeks heat up, my mind racing for something—anything—to say.

His words, his closeness, and that dangerous smirk of his unraveled me completely. I felt like the ground beneath me had disappeared, leaving me floating in the intensity of his presence. My nervousness mixed with something deeper, something I couldn’t quite describe.

I wanted to say something, to push him away or maybe even pull him closer, but all I could do was stand there, utterly captivated by him.

My feeling was right it would be a day to remember.

~Haseen raat hai,

aur dilon main aag hai!!

Bhut intezaar ka baad ,

Aayi inka milan ki raat hai!!~

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Next chapter will be steamy guys

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