The morning sun streamed through the windows, but Nidhi was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. After her restless night of "Maths nightmares," she finally managed to get ready and head downstairs.

"Amma, eeroju tiffin enti?" Nidhi asked, yawning as she reached the kitchen.

("Mom, what’s for breakfast today?")

Lakshmi didn't even look up from the stove.

"Upma."

Nidhi’s face fell instantly. "Ahhh! Naku vaddhu! Inkedhina cheyyi!"

("Ahhh! I don't want that! Make something else!")

"No, eat upma," Lakshmi said firmly, turning around with a ladle in her hand. "Ayina ippudu ante orders vesthunnav, repu pelli ayyaka kuda ilane orders vesthava?"

("Anyway, you’re giving orders now, but will you give orders like this after you get married tomorrow too?")

Nidhi huffed, tossing her hair back. "Yes! And I’m going to my Atthaya. She will make my favorite breakfast!"

Without waiting for a comeback, Nidhi marched right out of her house and into the neighboring one. She didn't even knock she treated it like her own home.

"Atthayyaaaaaa!" she called out at the top of her lungs.

"Ha ha, Nidhi! Coming!" Syamala’s cheerful voice drifted from the kitchen. She stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron. "Enti ra, em kavali?"

("What is it, dear? What do you want?")

Nidhi was already gawking at Arjun’s plate. "Atthaya, enti breakfast?"

("Auntie, what's for breakfast?")

"Pesarattu," Syamala replied with a warm smile.

"I want one, Atthaya! Amma made upma," Nidhi complained, pulling up a chair.

Syamala quickly began placing a fresh, hot Pesarattu on a plate. Nidhi reached out to take a piece, but before she could, Syamala tore a small portion herself and started feeding her with her own hand.

"Hmmm... Atthaya, you are the best!" Nidhi mumbled through a mouthful of food, leaning into the affection.

Arjun, who was sitting across from her, looked at them with mock indignation. "Amma! You didn't feed me, but you will feed her?" he accused, pointing a finger at his mother.

Nidhi immediately pulled a face and showed her tongue to him.

"Arjun, thanu chinna pilla raa," Syamala defended her with a laugh.

("Arjun, she’s a little girl, dear.")

Arjun made a weird, skeptical face. "Adhi chinna pilla? She is going to be a wife in a few days!"

("She’s a little girl? She’s going to be a wife in a few days!")

At the mention of "wife," Nidhi’s heart skipped a beat. She tried to act casual, but her eyes began darting around the room, searching the hallway and the stairs for a certain tall, grumpy figure.

Arjun saw her searching and a slow smirk spread across his face. "He already went to his office," Arjun said, leaning back.

Nidhi’s head snapped toward him, her face turning pink. "Already searching for your husband?" Arjun teased.

"No! I’m just looking!" Nidhi stammered, quickly shoving another piece of Pesarattu into her mouth to avoid talking.

Syamala just watched the two of them, a knowing smile on her face. The "Hitler" might have been at work, but he was clearly already occupying every corner of Nidhi’s mind.

The evening air in the neighborhood was quiet, but Nidhi’s mind was a whirlwind of schemes and protests.

While Divya and Arjun were tucked away in their secret corner of the terrace, lost in their own world of romance, Nidhi was pacing like a sentry. Her eyes were fixed on the street below, waiting for the one person who held the power to end this chaos.

It was 10:00 PM. The lights in Syamala’s house were dimmed, and the silence only made Nidhi more restless. Finally, the twin beams of a car’s headlights cut through the darkness. Devarsh’s SUV pulled into the driveway.

She watched from the shadows of the balcony as he stepped out, his posture stiff with the exhaustion of a long day at the office. He didn't look up he simply walked inside and climbed the stairs. A few moments later, a light flickered on in his room.

"Ippude vachadu Hitler..." she whispered, straightening her nightsuit—a set of simple, oversized pajamas that made her look even smaller than she was.

("Hitler finally arrived...")

She gathered her courage and crept down the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. She reached his door and pushed it open just a crack.

The room was vast, dominated by a black and grey theme. Everything was perfectly in its place—files stacked neatly, clothes put away, not a single item out of order. It was a stark contrast to her own room, which usually looked like a cyclone had passed through it.

She stepped inside, her heart beginning its familiar, frantic thudding. The sound of running water from the attached bathroom told her he was already in the shower.

Nidhi paced the length of the rug, rehearsing her speech for the hundredth time. She had to be firm. She had to be serious. She had to make him understand that this "deal" was a mistake.

"Look, Devarsh," she practiced, gesturing to an empty chair. "Marriage is not a business deal. You can't just say 'yes' to save Arjun's wedding. I have dreams! I have a life! And you... you have a black-and-grey soul! We are not a match. Tell Uncle you changed your mind, or I'll... I'll..."

She stopped, biting her lip. She didn't know what she would do yet, but she was determined that by the time she left this room tonight, the wedding would be off.

While he was in the shower, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. When the sound of the water finally cut off, she squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and prepared her speech.

The bathroom door creaked open. Before he could even breathe, she started, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

"Look, I’m not going to marry you! I mean, I think you will not like me... it means Uncle said that if I agree for this marriage then only the wedding happens, so I just said yes. You go and tell Uncle that you don't like me, ok? It's ok, I'm beautiful, but we can't marry! You know you will start a maths class on our first night like you always make me do maths calculations in childhood!"

She ran out of breath, her chest heaving. When she didn't hear a sharp scolding or a grumpy retort, she slowly opened one eye, then the other.

Her world stopped.

Devarsh was standing right there, nothing but a white towel wrapped around his torso. Droplets of water were still falling from his damp hair, tracing paths down his muscular chest and disappearing into the towel. He looked dangerously hot.

Initially, he was shocked to find her in his room, but as he listened to her rambling about maths classes on their wedding night, a small, dark smirk formed on his lips. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

Nidhi realized she was staring—practically checking him out. She closed her eyes tightly, her face turning a deep shade of crimson. But when she felt a shift in the air, she peeked again. He was walking toward her.

Step by step, she backed away until her back hit the cold wall. Devarsh didn't stop. He leaned in, slamming one hand against the wall beside her head. He didn't touch her, but she could feel the radiating heat from his bare skin.

"Choo..dandi!" she stammered, her voice failing her.

("Lo...look!")

"Hmm... choosthunna," he said, his voice dropping into a low, silky register as his eyes traveled from her messy hair down to her baby pink nightwear.

("Hmm... I’m looking.")

"First... battalu vesu..kondi!" she squeaked, trying to look at his face but accidentally catching a glimpse of his chest again.

("First... put on some clothes!")

"Naku ilane bavundhi," he said in a husky voice that sent a shiver straight down her spine.

("I like it better this way.")

Nidhi felt a strange fluttering in her stomach. Devarsh leaned even closer. "What are you saying? You didn't want this marriage?" he asked.

She nodded slowly, her hands fisting his fresh shower gel scent filling her senses. "Why?" he whispered.

"I... I don't love you," she blurted out.

"Then love me," he countered instantly.

"Huhh... ala ela kudurthundhi?" she asked, her eyes wide.

("Huhh... how is that possible?")

"Kudurthundhi," he said firmly. "And what are you saying? I will teach maths on our first night?"

("It is possible.")

Nidhi went quiet, her face burning. He leaned into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "No... I have so many plans, and I will not allow you to sleep on that day," he husked.

Nidhi’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. She tried to push him away, but he was like a solid rock. Her hands landed on his bare chest, and under her palms, she felt his heart—it was thudding just as fast as hers.

To save herself from the tension, she shouted the first thing that came to mind. "Before marriage, I want to ask you some questions!"

Devarsh pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Okay. Let me change and come. Sit on the bed."

As he disappeared into the closet, Nidhi slumped against the wall, clutching her chest. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure the neighbors could hear it. "Asalu naku em ayyindhi? Endhuku eppudu lenidhi ila feel avuthunna?" she thought frantically.

("What is happening to me? Why am I feeling like this when I never have before?")

She refused to sit on the bed. Instead, she dragged a chair over, placing it a safe distance away.

A few minutes later, Devarsh emerged wearing a black T-shirt that hugged his frame and grey pants. He saw her sitting on the chair like a scared kitten. Smirking, he walked over and sat on the very edge of the bed, right in front of her, until their knees were almost touching.

Nidhi sat on the edge of her seat gripped tight, ready to start her "interrogation" to make him hate her.

"Start," he said, his voice calm but layered with that same irritating confidence.

Nidhi scrambled onto the bed, folding her legs and sitting opposite him. She had a plan—a list of questions designed to catch him off guard and make him look bad.

"First question," she began, leaning in with a look of intense scrutiny.

"Are you a virgin?"

She held her breath, a tiny, triumphant smirk forming. She was certain he would say no. If he did, she’d run straight to his parents, blow the whole thing out of proportion, and blackmail her way out of the wedding. She felt incredibly proud of her tactical genius.

Devarsh didn't even flinch. "Yes, I’m a virgin. In fact, I haven't even looked at another woman other than you," he said, his gaze steady and unwavering.

The confession hit Nidhi like a physical weight. Her heart skipped a beat, and a strange, warm feeling she didn't want to acknowledge flickered in her chest. Her brilliant plan had failed instantly.

"Question 2..." she muttered, her fingers nervously plucking at the bedsheet. "Do you know cooking?"

"Hmm. I know, but I’m not an expert. Though, I'm certainly better than you," he said.

Nidhi’s eyes snapped to his, and she pouted. "I know cooking! And I'm better than you!" she insisted, waving a finger at him.

"Yeah, I know," he countered with a dry smile. "I remember when you once cooked; even the dogs were scared to eat that."

"Ok, ok! Don't remember that!" she shouted, her face turning red.

She cleared her throat and tried to regain control. "Question 3... why me?"

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Devarsh leaned forward, his hand reaching out to the edge of her chair. With one swift, smooth motion, he pulled the chair toward him until their knees were touching and there was no distance left between them.

"Endhukante nuvvante naku ishtam," he said simply, as if he were stating a universal law.

("Because I like you.")

The directness of the confession made her breath catch in her throat. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but genuine sincerity.

Panicking, she tried to divert the conversation.

"Hmm... next question! Do you have girlfriends?"

Devarsh leaned back, a brow raised.

"Girlfriends?"

Nidhi nodded her head fast. "What do you think? Do I have girlfriends?" he asked.

"Abbe! Meeku aa? Mimmalni choosi paripotharu!" she said sarcastically, tossing her head back.

("Oh please! You? People would look at you and run away!")

Devarsh’s eyes darkened as he looked at her deeply. Realizing she might have pushed too far, Nidhi spoke up fast. "Ante... nenu anedhi ala kadhu. Ante eppudu kopam ga untaru kadha, so andhuku."

("I mean... I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you're always so angry, so that's why.")

Devarsh nodded slowly. "No. I don't have any girlfriends." He paused, a mischievous glint entering his eyes.

"Aypoyayi aa questions? Ledha nenu underwear ae company kontanu... inka ilanti questions emina unnaya?"

("Are the questions over? Or do you have more, like what brand of underwear I buy?")

Nidhi’s eyes went wide with shock. "Chi chi! Adhi naku endhuku!" she cried out.

("Yuck! Why would I want to know that!")

She stood up abruptly, her heart hammering. "Meeku nenu nacchaledhu ani cheppandi! Ee pelli aapeyandi!" she demanded, looking at him with desperate eyes.

("Just say that you don't like me! Stop this wedding!")

"No. I will not say anything," he said calmly. He stood up too, closing the distance between them until he was towering over her. "YOU WILL MARRY ME."

Nidhi looked up at him, her stubbornness flaring. "No, I will not! Nenu edhokati chesi pelli apesthanu!"

("No, I will not! I'll do something and stop this wedding!")

"Then go on. Try me," he challenged, a smug look on his face.

Nidhi let out a huff of pure frustration. She hit the floor with her leg, gritting her teeth like a stubborn child, and stomped out of the room. Devarsh watched her go, his serious mask finally slipping into a hearty laugh at her tactics. He knew she was a firecracker, and he wouldn't have it any other way.