CHAPTER 5: DISGUISED IN MISERY

"So, you're the so-called wealthy businessman, Darsh Sinha?" My father enquired with wrinkled brows. To which Darsh replied while stuttering, "Y-yes, Sir."

I brought Darsh to my house the same night since I knew my parents would slaughter me if I appeared in front of them without conclusive evidence after the false news circulated. He served as a shield between my parents and me.

I urged him to construct a storyline about how we could get out of this dilemma and proclaim our wedding to my parents. It was a contract marriage, but we chose to keep it hidden from my family since they were too conservative to accept it.

Darsh swallowed, awkwardly seated on our living room couch, peering at my father. Uncle Hemant was striving desperately not to laugh as he watched Darsh getting terrified of my father.

"Where do you live?" With each query, my father's tone rose more acrimonious. My mother only glared at Darsh as the cops scrutinised their suspect.

"I live in Delhi," Darsh responded.

"How did the two of you meet?" Darsh flashed me a diagonal glance at that question.

"We met online, papa." I reacted instantly.

"Have I spoken to you? Talk only when you're asked!" Papa chastised me.

"All right, Papa," I replied, lowering my head. His attention shifted back to Darsh again.

"Where were we? Yes.

What were you two doing alone in the hotel suite?"

I already saw this question coming. I noticed Darsh struggling, but I was helpless as I was not allowed to talk. Darsh, please don't mess up!

I prayed fervently in my mind.

Darsh, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, and his usual expression started to return.

"Khushi's uniform was ripped off accidentally. She needed to change as fast as possible to get to the changing room.

I offered her to change into my clothing because I was staying in that hotel at the time."

Darsh's statement made my family observe my shirt and trousers, which were Darsh's. Somehow, I forgot to change it. I am an Idiot!

I forced an uncomfortable grin at my parents, but it didn't seem to work on them.

"Unfortunately, the journalists seemed to have obtained inaccurate information, and the misleading news spread.

"But don't worry; I have prevented the news from circulating any further in an hour."

Has he already stopped the news from spreading?

My father didn't object, but it was apparent that he didn't fully trust Darsh's answer. However, He moved on to the next question, "But many people, including my relatives, have already seen it.

They've been calling me since the news was released. And I'm not sure how to respond.

My daughter is getting considered from a red-light area by the entire city. What will you do about it?"

My father dropped his eyes. He looked so hurt, so upset. And it broke my heart because I was the reason.

At the time, I severely regretted my decision. The mess would not have happened if I hadn't worried about that meaningless autograph.

"This is not only your daughter's reputation but also the reputation of the woman and her family, whom I cherish above everything." Darsh unexpectedly piped up, reassuring my father. "I promise to put an end to the rumours as quickly as possible!"

I had to pinch myself numerous times because I couldn't believe Darsh Sinha had said such cringe-worthy things.

"And how?" My father demanded, intrigued.

"We'll hold a press conference to disclose that Khushi and I are engaged and planning to marry soon. It will put an end to all of the erroneous rumours." Darsh regained his composure as he demonstrated the strategy to Papa.

"Who said you could marry my daughter?" Papa grumbled. And it startled me. My field of vision was directed at Darsh, who seemed furious at my father's remark.

I forced a hard swallow as I witnessed the situation spiral out of control. Darsh appeared to be on the verge of exploding with rage. An uneasy silence fell in the room, which only grew thicker over time. Closing my eyes, I prayed to God to save the situation, just this once.

"I am sorry, Mr. Acharya," Darsh said, stunning me.

"If you give us permission, can Khushi and I get married?" Darsh requested, his head bowed. Slack-jawed, I stared at him. It was hard to imagine he was still the same arrogant, bitter person.

Uncle Hemant, who had been silently observing the entire discussion, gasped. I was capable of understanding his emotions, though.

My father gradually turned to face my mother, and they exchanged a few glances before looking back at Darsh and me. My heart started racing. If Papa initially rejected Darsh, It was known that Mr. CEO would make a mess out of things after all of his efforts had failed.

"Fine." When my father said it, I let out a sigh of relief. Darsh and I exchanged glances, pleased that we had gotten through the initial hurdle.

My mother added to the discussion, "We understand that this marriage is necessary and should be done as quickly as possible."

"But first, we'd like to pay a visit to your residence and meet your parents.

They might do the same thing." Darsh remained silent in response to my father's words. And tranquillity reigned once more.

"Master Darsh's parents are no longer with us." Thankfully, Uncle Hemant spoke up with a gentle grin, eliminating the tension. My parents scrutinised Uncle Hemant, who proceeded to enlighten us about Darsh.

"His mother died when Master was just ten years old, and Master Jayant, his father, passed away a few years ago."

"I am sorry." Papa hastily apologised.

"It's all right, Mr. Acharya. Uncle Hemant is now my only guardian. You are welcome to speak with him about the marriage.

And please let me know when you have time to come to my house; I'll have everything arranged." Darsh uttered as he regained control over his composer.

"Okay." As my father replied, Darsh rose from his seat on the couch.

"It's getting late, Mr. Acharya.

I'll be heading to my hotel to take care of other things.

And I'll make sure the misleading rumours die down before you wake up tomorrow morning." With his orbs fixed on his wristwatch, Darsh said.

"Yes, okay." Papa replied with a poker face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the exit?" My trance tore off when Darsh stood in front of me and asked me to see him off. I blinked twice, staring back at him without a word.

"Okay," With that said, I followed Darsh out of our house. Uncle Hemant occupied the driver's seat while Darsh paused in front of the backseat door.

"The conference will take place as soon as possible. Be prepared." He informed me while glancing around the neighbourhood. And his face didn't look anything near pleased. What could I expect from a billionaire who may or may not have lived in a palace-like residence?

"Okay and—

Thank you." My words came out as whispers as I glanced at the onlookers from the nearby houses' windows and rooftops.

"For what?"

"For not informing my parents about our agreement and for not reacting furiously to Papa's statements." I clarified. "He was a bit rude back there, but he was also dealing with a difficult situation."

"You don't need to justify his actions." His words hushed me.

"He is a father. His concerns are understandable.

And it's already your condition that we don't inform him about our contract." Darsh's words seemed obnoxious, yet I sensed his sincerity towards my father. Hence, I just grinned.

"Good Night and stay alarmed.

I can call you anytime."

Darsh walked inside the car after opening the door and closing it behind him.

"Good night, Ma'am." Uncle Hemant said from the driver's seat.

"Good night, and travel safely." I greeted them both and the luxury vehicle began to speed away, followed by a black jeep which was occupied by two black-clad males. I assumed they were Darsh's bodyguards.

*************

As the conference ended, we left the hall and headed for home. I heaved a sigh of relief when the blinding lights, never-ending interrogation, and dubious glares directed at me came to an end.

I'd already been given a script with instructions on how to respond to each question. Suspicions were predictable based on the news. And I was giddy that I wouldn't have to deal with any unanticipated questions since Darsh had taken the initiative to confront them.

"The conference went off without a hitch." Uncle Hemant said from the driver's seat.

"It had to be that way. My reputation lies in it." Darsh said, deflecting his concern to his phone.

"You were good back there. I was worried about your acting abilities, but you performed excellently." He remained focused on his phone, but his compliments got aimed at me.

"I had to do my best. My family and my own lives are at risk." I forced a grin.

"They're now in safe hands. Relax." Darsh comforted me as he replaced his phone in his pocket. I didn't respond. Instead, I peered at the dark-haired, attractive man who had emerged out of nowhere in my life and stirred everything up, consciously or unconsciously.

*********

Overnight, the scandal became love news once the conference was aired. Our sizzling, passionate, and romantic tale got broadcast on every news channel. The people who smeared my name turned a dramatic 180° and couldn't stop pointing out how gracious I was. Neighbours who had probably considered evicting us from the colony because they thought I was a slut began oiling my parents after watching our recent interview.

It was amusing to watch people transform like chameleons.

Everything felt like good luck disguised in misery.

Albeit, following that conference day, I was immediately confronted with a new problem: The Media.

Darsh flew back to Delhi while I stayed in Kolkata to prepare wedding plans. And the reporters began trailing me wherever I went. They interrogated me and even snapped pictures of me without my consent. I turned into a celebrity overnight. A star who rose to prominence as a result of a love scandal.

At first, fame didn't seem so bad. But after a while, it felt like retribution for being greedy. The media frowned upon allowing you to live your life on your own terms. The private lives of celebrities were also non-existent.

I decided to lock myself in my house and refused to leave, even for my wedding shopping. It was already making me sick to be surrounded by people who solely want to exploit you as a money-printing machine through sensational headlines. It didn't matter whether or not the information was correct. The TRP of their channels was their most essential asset.

When the paparazzi couldn't reach me, they began stalking my parents. And it was at that moment that I figured I'd have enough. At first, I didn't want to bother Darsh with the journalist issue, but I felt helpless at a point and ended up calling my future husband for rescue.

"Hello, D-Darsh."

My voice was hesitant since I expected Darsh to be even more hostile if I asked for additional help, even though I had already obtained a lot.

"Khushi?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Actually, it's—I—"

"What?"

"Darsh, here we—"

"Would you mind finishing your sentence?" He requested in a laid-back tone.

"I actually...

The reporters are stalking me everywhere, along with my family and friends.

I told them to stop, but I guess they don't want to listen. Can you—"

My statement was cut short by Darsh. "Uncle Hemant, Khushi is struggling because of the media," Darsh added. "Why is it?"

He seemed to be conversing with someone else.

"I've directed our troops to deal with the situation while retaining their presence disguised as per your order." I overheard Uncle Hemant and Darsh discussing.

Was he coping with the problem without notifying me?

"I told them to keep their presence hidden so as not to disrupt Khushi and her family's privacy, but it doesn't seem to be working." Darsh opined.

"You are correct, Master." Uncle Hemant commented.

"Tell them to protect her nevertheless.

They don't have to hide their presence this time." He announced the decision, and Uncle Hemant promptly responded with, "As you say, Master."

"Khushi?" Then his attention switched to me swiftly, and I stammered out, "E-eh?"

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry." He consoled me, and I was left speechless. I expected anything but his sudden alliance with assurance.

"I was expecting you to be angry."

"Huh?"

"I thought it would irritate you."

"Irritate? What for?" His curiosity was palpable in his voice.

"You've already done so much for me.

I didn't want to trouble you with another issue." Darsh fell silent for a few seconds after my explanation.

"Darsh Sinha's wife deserves everything in this world.

So don't feel burdened to seek help with anything. It is my responsibility to provide for all of your needs in compliance with the terms."

My heart. It missed a beat as Darsh stated those words.

What's wrong with my heart?

I didn't find the answer, but the subsequent breaths calmed me down, and I instantly felt protected because of him. Why wouldn't I? He was single handedly resolving my problems from the beginning.

After that day, I made every effort to avoid thinking about Darsh. Nonetheless, I still did every time I recollected our conversations. And I found myself progressively falling for the guy I believed I detested the most.

In a few weeks, a man I had never imagined becoming friends with would be my husband. Khushi Acharya, who had never envisaged marrying anyone besides Akash Malhotra, was gradually dwindling in love with a man she had just met.

Were things intended to go this way? Was I destined to fall for him?

But didn't we pledge not to fall in love with each other?

But all my dreams and feelings shattered at once when I found another woman beside my husband on the bed the first night.