The news broke before noon.
Anaya found out when her phone wouldn't stop vibrating.
She was sitting in the quiet room that had been assigned to her—*her room*, as everyone kept calling it—when notifications flooded her screen. Missed calls. Messages. Unknown numbers.
Her stomach tightened.
She opened one message.
**BREAKING: Business Tycoon Aarav Malhotra Marries in Private Ceremony**
Her breath caught.
Another notification followed, then another.
Photos of Aarav stepping out of the registrar's office flashed across the screen. He looked calm, composed, exactly as he always did. In one blurred frame, she caught a glimpse of herself beside him—head lowered, expression unreadable.
They hadn't even announced it yet.
She stood up abruptly, heart racing, and walked downstairs.
Aarav was already in the living room, speaking calmly into his phone.
"Yes," he said. "No statements yet. Release the official photos by evening."
He ended the call and looked at her as if he had been expecting her.
"You saw the news," he said.
"It's everywhere," Anaya replied, holding up her phone. "I wasn't prepared for this."
"You don't need to be," he said evenly. "That's my job."
She frowned. "People are asking questions. My relatives. Friends. They want to know—"
"They'll stop," he interrupted. "Once the official statement is out."
She hesitated. "What statement?"
Aarav walked to the glass wall overlooking the garden. "That we married quietly. That you value privacy. That you're not interested in public attention."
"That's not entirely false," she said softly.
"No," he replied. "It's convenient."
She didn't know whether to feel relieved or unsettled by how easily he controlled the narrative.
A knock echoed through the room.
Aarav's assistant entered, tablet in hand. "Sir, the press is gathering outside the gate. They're asking for a comment. At least one appearance."
Aarav exhaled slowly, then turned to Anaya.
"Change," he said. "We're going out."
Her eyes widened. "Now?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Outside," he replied. "Together."
Her heart skipped. "I thought you said—"
"I said you wouldn't speak," he corrected. "Not that you wouldn't be seen.
Twenty minutes later, Anaya stood beside him near the front gate, cameras flashing endlessly.
The noise was overwhelming.
"Aarav, who is she?"
"When did you get married?"
"Is this a love marriage?"
She felt frozen.
Aarav's hand rested lightly on her lower back—not possessive, not intimate, just enough to guide her forward.
"Stay calm," he murmured. "Look ahead."
She did.
The cameras clicked faster.
Aarav stopped, facing the reporters.
"My marriage is a private matter," he said calmly. "My wife and I value our privacy. That's all."
No elaboration.
No drama.
And yet, the way he said *my wife* sent an unexpected shiver through her.
They turned to leave when a voice cut through the crowd.
"Mrs. Malhotra, how does it feel marrying such a powerful man?"
Anaya faltered.
She felt Aarav tense beside her.
Before she could think, he spoke.
"She doesn't owe anyone an explanation," he said, his voice colder now. "This interview is over."
He led her away without another word.
Inside the car, the silence was thick.
Her hands were still trembling.
"You did fine," Aarav said eventually.
"I didn't do anything," she replied.
"Exactly."
She glanced at him. "Why did you stop them? I could have answered."
"No," he said firmly. "You shouldn't have to."
Something about that stayed with her.
For the first time since signing the contract, she wondered—
Was he protecting his image?
Or was he protecting her?
She looked out the window, unsure which answer frightened her more.