Page 93 of His Arranged Wife
"Then it's yours."
"Samarth, no—"
But he was already raising his paddle.
The bidding started at fifty lakhs. Samarth bid one crore without hesitation.
Someone countered with one-twenty.
Samarth: "Two crore."
Gasps around the room.
No one countered.
"Sold to Mr. Ranawat for two crore rupees!"
Applause erupted.
Nimisha stared at him. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to." His eyes were intense. "You wanted it. I got it for you."
"That's not how this works—"
"It's exactly how this works." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Everything you want, I get for you. Everythingyou look at with those beautiful eyes, I buy. Everything that makes you smile, I acquire. That's how this works now."
Her heart was racing. "Why?"
"Because you're mine. And I take care of what's mine."
The auction continued. A vintage first edition book. Nimisha admired it briefly.
Samarth bid. Won.
A painting of the Mumbai skyline. She paused to look at it.
Samarth bid. Won.
By the time the auction ended, he'd spent over seven crore rupees. All on things she'd shown even the slightest interest in.
"You're insane," she said as they left the auction area.
"About you? Increasingly." He pulled her closer. "Every man in this room has been staring at you all night. Imagining. Wanting. I needed them to understand something."
"What?"
"That you're not available. Not to them. Not to anyone. You're mine, and I'm not a man who shares."
"I've never wanted anyone else."
"I know." His hand slid up her back. "But they don't. So I'm making it clear."
"By spending a fortune?"
"By showing them I'll bankrupt myself to give you everything you want." His eyes were dark, intense. "Money means nothing. You mean everything."
The words hung between them, loaded with implications neither was ready to address.
