If You Could Stay

8. Kartik

The ballroom is decorated lavishly with black and gold accents, the elitists of the elite mingled with champagne glasses in hand, while a live band played soft tunes from the front stage.

I hated it.

I'd rather be in my penthouse, elbows deep in spreadsheets and paperwork. Alone.

Instead, I'm here making small talk. At least Naira's presence was helping me with one thing: keeping away pretentious marriage proposals. Fewer women approached me, although I noticed more pointed looks towards Naira. She didn't seem to notice. Even if she did, she didn't seem to care.

"...and then he took me out on his yacht for a romantic dinner." Naira's voice cut through my thoughts. She was in the middle of telling the story of how we "fell in love" to eager listeners who couldn't believe that I, Kartik Goenka, could ever fall in love.

My jaw tightened to its limit as she continued on with the most dramatic and unrealistic story about us.

"He cooked the meal himself. He burned all the vegetables, but it's okay because he made it with love. Right?"

What the hell?

Naira looked up at me with mischief in her eyes and a smirk on her face. The small crowd around us swooned.

"I didn't know you cooked, Mr. Goenka. You've got some hidden talents it seems", a business associate says.

I glare at Naira. "Anything for you, Jaan."

Her smile falters for a split second before she composes herself back into her smirk.

As we move away from the crowd, a potbellied older gentleman and his very talkative wife approach us. I recognize them immediately and quickly try to come up with an exit plan. They were the most talkative people in the room and I had no intention of indulging in a conversation with them.

"Mr. Goenka!"

My escape wasn't quick enough. I put on a tight-lipped smile.

"Mr. And Mrs. Achari."

They didn't give me a second glance as their gazes landed on the woman next to me.

"Miss Singhania. Well well well, looks like you found your way into quite a position." Mrs. Achari says in an obvious judgmental tone. Naira's eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

"So this is why Goenka Jewelers chose Singhania Diamonds to collaborate with, not us. Here I was wondering why the great Kartik Goenka would choose such tacky and basic jewelry designs," Mr. Achari sneered.

Naira's hand on my forearm tightened, but her otherwise composed posture and smile didn't falter.

"Our designs are much more sophisticated, are they not Mr. Goenka? And I'm sure our daughter is quite up to par as well." By the way my hand curled into a tight fist, Mrs. Achari was lucky I didn't condone violence, especially not on elders. She had been trying to set me up with her daughter for months now. But it was the comment degrading Naira's work that made my muscles tense.

You aren't special enough to google. You wear your personality on your sleeve.

Guilt hits my chest like a hot poker stick as I recall my comments to Naira. I had lied. I did google her. Extensively. I had chosen Singhania Diamonds based on the uniqueness and sheer passion their jewelry lines emitted. All this time, I assumed Naksh Singhania to be the designer. When in fact, it was Naira all along. I had met her talent before I met her and she was damn talented. I wasn't going to tell her that though.

As if on cue, said daughter sashays herself over to us. Indira Achari, otherwise known as "Indy". With her sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and tall, lean frame, she was no doubt a desire for all men. But behind that external beauty, was a cruel, twisted, and vile woman.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Naira stand taller.

"Kartik, long time no see." Indira steps up to give me a hug, but retreats when she notices Naira's arm linked with mine. Naira's eyes follow Indira's movements.

"I've been busy, Indira." I say flatly.

"It's Indy, darling." Her eyes flick over to Naira, glaring at her. "I see how busy you've been."

To Naira's credit, she doesn't seem to be affected by Indira's glare. Instead, she returns a confident glare right back. I feel my eyes light up with amusement. Indira narrows her eyes at Naira. "Who are you again?"

I almost rolled my eyes. Naira was already a high profile in society, even before the news of our engagement. Indira most definitely knew who she was.

"Hi. I'm Naira. Naira Singhania."

Indira lifts her chin and turns to me, ignoring Naira. Something close to fury ran through my veins seeing her behavior towards Naira. Why? I don't know.

"Come on Kartik, let's dance." Indira holds out her hand.

Before I can stop myself, my hand grabs onto Naira's as if it has a mind of its own.

"Sorry, my fiancée and I were just about to go dance."

I put an extra emphasis on the word fiancée.

Naira looks at me with wide eyes and slightly parted lips as I drag her towards the dance floor, leaving a speechless Achari family behind.