The low hum of the car engine filled the tense silence as they drove toward the Rai Singhania mansion for their annual gala. Aira sat rigidly in the passenger seat, her posture impeccable, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The baby pink gown she wore, shimmering faintly under the passing streetlights, was Arsh's choice - one he had specifically picked for her. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, the picture of elegance.

Yet, despite her composed exterior, the air between them crackled with barely concealed tension.