Ishan and Inaya sat in the opulent drawing room of their family home, a rare moment of tranquility in the midst of wedding preparations.The room was a beautiful fusion of traditional Indian decor and modern amenities, with lush silk drapes on the windows and comfortable sofas arranged around a low, carved teakwood table. Inaya sat upright on one of the sofas, her gaze fixed on her brother, while Ishan sprawled on the other, his frustration visible.

Ishan leaned back in his chair, a hint of irritation on his face. "You know, Inaya," he began, "I can't believe Father and Uncle Sharma are still set on this ridiculous arranged marriage idea. Alia Sharma is absolutely the last person I would want to spend the rest of my life with."