The Decision of Mr. Billionaire

CHAPTER 42: "You know I'm clearly not interested in arguing with you, Samaara."

Samaara

"It's okay, I can drive." Ahan signals for the chauffeur to hand him the keys as we both slip inside the black Porsche. 

A mere silence falls between us as he reverses out of the driveway. 

As of now, we're heading to the boutique as of Dadi's suggestion to get our wedding attires finalised today once and for all. The designer of that boutique has apparently been working for the Malhotras' for the longest period and Dadi loves every single outfit of hers. Hence, she's coaxed us into this, to get our outfits designed only by her as well. 

I don't feel at ease knowing that I will have to purchase these expensive clothes, especially, considering that Dadi wants to have every single function for our wedding along with Vihaans'. It means we need at least a few different outfits and that definitely would cost a fortune. 

It makes me uncomfortable knowing that this type of designer usually is expensive and I didn't want to spend so much money on clothes. 

Actually. Wrong. 

I don't have even a penny to spend on these fashionable outfits so wanting to spend was not even an option. 

I simply don't have a choice. I knew that I can't pay for these designers. Not at all.

And it just makes me even more guilty when Ahan spends his money on any of my jewellery or dresses. There is no way I could let him do that. I knew he wouldn't listen to me, but I just couldn't let him do that.

"You're quiet."

His words startle me back into the present. I glance over at him, taking in the sight of his profile as he steers the sleek vehicle with a practiced ease. Everything about him exudes authority and richness, yet his simplicity really outshines them all.

"You know you don't need my permission to speak." He chuckles as I sense his attention shifting towards me. My cheeks immediately begin to warm up as I turn my eyes towards him. 

Seeing that he was waiting for my response, I simply shake my head before turning back to look at the window. I can sense he is pondering what to say, to get rid of this awkward silence that's taken place in between us. However, I cannot seem to rationalize my thinking in front of him. 

I know he won't listen to me if I tell him I want to wear the traditional clothes I own or that I don't want him to spend any money on designer clothes.

"If you're worried about the finances for the wedding dress, don't sweat it. You're wasting your time arguing with yourself." He says, instantly catching me in surprise. 

How does he know? 

How is he really able to figure out exactly what I am thinking every single time? I have to say it's damn frustrating but at the same time, damn charming too. 

Ughhh. 

I heave a sigh before turning to look at him. "I'm not going to use the black card, you know that." I try to argue, gaining more confidence to speak in front of him. The black card he gave me probably contains a large amount of money, and I have no intention of using it. 

"That's alright. You can use mine instead." He deadpans. There is not a single feature on his face that suggests even a little bit of humour in this situation, and I sense that he finds nothing particularly amusing about it. 

But I can't just give into his words. I can't accept that.

"No." His eyes remain glued to the road as I continue. "No, I cannot do that." I shake my head instead, and receive a chuckle in return.