The chandeliers glimmered like captured constellations, casting their soft, golden glow across the grand ballroom. The air was filled with the hum of conversations, the clinking of crystal glasses, and the subtle undertones of the live orchestra playing in the corner. Every corner seemed to carry the fragrance of rare orchids and freshly bloomed roses, mingling with the faint, expensive scent of perfumes.

Sifat stood beside Rivan, her delicate hand entwined with his. The warmth of his palm around hers sent a subtle thrill up her spine, one she tried hard to mask behind her composed smile. Tonight was no ordinary evening. The Rajora family’s charity gala was in full swing—philanthropists, business magnates, and socialites had all gathered to mingle, donate, and celebrate. But for Sifat and Rivan, tonight was personal. Their marriage, a secret until now, was about to be unveiled to the world.