Page 70 of Okay Boss
Divya blinked. The world blurred, then cleared through contact lenses instead of her familiar glasses.
“Look,” the head stylist said, satisfaction evident.
Divya leaned forward.
Her breath caught.
A stranger stared back. A woman with wide eyes enhanced by kohl, cheekbones shaped by highlighting, lips painted deep red. Hair styled into an intricate arrangement with golden ornaments and fresh flowers. The deep crimson lehenga glowed against her skin.
Her hand lifted automatically to push up glasses that weren’t there.
Something about that missing weight, that absent barrier between herself and the world, made her heart race faster.
“Who is that?” she whispered, not meaning to speak aloud.
The stylists exchanged pleased glances.
“That,” said the head stylist, adjusting a final hairpin, “is Mrs. Vikram Khanna.”
???
In another wing of the house, Vikram stood before his own mirror, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his wedding sherwani.
His hands, steady during the most demanding stunts, calm when facing thousands of fans, betrayed him with a slight tremor.
“If you rip that button off,” Raghav commented from his position against the wall, “the designer will have your head.”
Vikram shot his brother a look that would have silenced anyone else. Raghav merely raised an eyebrow.
“Nervous?”
“No.” The denial came too quickly.
Raghav’s smile was subtle but knowing. “You’ve acted in seventeen wedding scenes. This should be routine.”
Vikram’s fingers stilled on the final button. “This isn’t acting.”
Something shifted in Raghav’s expression, rare seriousness breaking through his usual composure. “No,” he agreed quietly. “It’s not.”
The weight of what was about to happen descended fully. In less than an hour, Divya would be his wife. Not just for cameras. Not just for headlines.
Legally. Irrevocably.
The thought steadied his hands rather than unsettling them further.
He finished buttoning the sherwani, adjusted the heavy gold watch at his wrist, and turned toward his brother.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I have a wedding to attend.”
The Ceremony
The mandap glowed with hundreds of tiny lights woven through marigold and jasmine. Family members sat around the sacred space, faces expectant, cameras ready. The pandit waited beside the sacred fire, ancient Sanskrit verses prepared.
And at the entrance, Vikram stood tall.
He felt it in his chest before he saw her.
The music shifted.
