Aarush looked at her, eyes softening with indulgence. "Eat this," he said, gently nudging a bite toward her lips. "Your favourite." 

Then he leaned in, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and murmured near her cheek, "Be good."   

Someone behind coughed so hard it echoed through the entire room. 

Aarush looked back and narrowed his eyes with mild irritation. "Allergic to love?" 

The person: "…" 

Mr. Rakesh Sharma, ever the classic old-school businessman, laughed. "Haha, that's cute. But men should focus on their careers too. My wife knows not to interfere with my work. I can't imagine fussing like this." 

Aarush finally looked up, gaze slow and sharp. "Oh? That's why you've been divorced twice?" 

Investor Sharma stiffened. His smile dropped. He looked like he’d just swallowed a cactus.

Mr. Suresh Menon stepped in to change the topic. "Mr Singhania,you're really different from us old-timers. We used to work 24/7. Never thought of being so... decorative." 

Aarush's gaze flicked to the man's bald head, sagging jawline, and bloated waistline. He imagined himself in that shape for exactly three seconds. 

Then he shook his head briskly, as though disturbed by the image. 

"Yeah. That shows." 

"I should avoid ending up like that. My wife prefers me clean, well-groomed, and attractive enough to keep her attention." 

The-bald-sagging-bloated demographic in the room: "…" 

Why did that hurt more than a slap?  They winced collectively.

Anil Kapoor, one of the younger executives, smiled awkwardly. "Speaking of wives… Mr Singhania, when's the big day?"  

Aarush turned to Ishita, lit up like he'd been waiting for this moment. "Soon. Isn't it wife?" 

Ishita startled, looked up. "Huh? ...Yes." 

He nodded contentedly, took a sip of wine and continued like it was a budget report. 

"I've already changed the wedding ring design. The old one's too cheap. Only 10 million, tsk. I'll have to upgrade it." He sighed deeply. "I've wronged her for too long." 

Ishita blinked, lost for words. Who was wronged?

One of the men raised his glass. "Mr Singhania, congratulations on closing the Mehrotra Group acquisition. Bold move." 

Aarush nodded politely. "Mm." 

The waiter had just set the dessert down when one of the men across the table leaned forward with a half-smile. "...Mr Singhania, how about I send you the revised proposal tonight, around 10:30?" 

Aarush didn't look up. He was busy rotating the dessert plate, positioning the tiramisu perfectly in front of Ishita. 

"Ten-thirty?" he echoed. "No, can't." 

He paused, and with the exact same serene expression, casually pointed toward Ishita. "She loves to sleep with her head on my chest. So…" 

Her eyes twitched. Stop it!

His gaze was thoughtful, almost regretful as if marriage was a demanding, inescapable prison sentence. 

His tone, however, carried the kind of pride only a smug husband would dare wear in public. 

"If I move even a little, she frowns in her sleep. She wraps her arm around me like a panda on a bamboo stalk." 

The room went dead silent. Every man at the table blinked, unsure whether to laugh, applaud, or weep.

His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, as if burdened by a great emotional toll. "There's no way around it. That's how marriage is. She can't sleep without me. Gets all fussy."

Ishita gave him a long side-eye. Is that so?

He took a sip of water, sighing as if exhausted from being so wanted. 

Then, for no reason whatsoever, he added, "She's also very possessive of me." 

He even stretched the word 'very', as if he was afraid they wouldn’t understand just how much his wife loved him.

He gave a tragic sigh. "It's tough, being so adored."

Ishita almost bit her tongue accidently . 

Was this necessary? Right now? And why are you exaggerating so much tonight? What switch flipped in your brain, you lunatic?!

She should’ve never agreed to come with this shameless man.

 Her eyes darted to the exit. Was it too late to pretend she didn’t know him?

One of the executives tried to smile politely. Another adjusted his tie in embarrassment. 

Forget business strategy, they just wanted to go home and cry into their unloved dinners.

Everyone suddenly found their food incredibly fascinating. No one dared lift their gaze.

One man quietly texted his wife under the table: I miss you too. 

Meanwhile, in Aarush's head: Perfect. By tomorrow morning, news of an upcoming wedding will spread like wildfire. And everyone will know, he and Ishita are a married couple. No one can separate them.

And with that, he lifted another spoonful of tiramisu and held it out to her again.

With a smile that warned: Eat it. Or I'll feed it to you myself.

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