The low hum of a black Ford Raptor pulling up outside sent a wave of excitement through the gathering. Deebaj. The Pakistani-British billionaire, a man of power, arrogance, and ruthless efficiency, had arrived. He wasn’t just another suitor—he is Yn husband, was a man who commanded rooms without a word, a man who kept Yn in nothing less than luxury. And now, as he stepped into the house, the approving glances were undeniable.

Tall, broad, and immaculately dressed, Deebaj’s sharp gaze scanned the room until it landed on her. Without hesitation, he strode forward, the subtle smirk playing on his lips as he ignored the whispers around him.

Yn’s uncle leaned toward her father, murmuring, “At least we know she’ll never settle for less.” Her aunt whispered, “He looks like he owns the world… and her.”

Stopping in front of Yn, Deebaj tilted his head, voice low and expectant, “Had your fun, jaan?” His dark eyes flickered with amusement before his fingers grazed her chin, tilting it up. “Let’s go. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

The room watched in silence, as if holding their breath.