Page 80 of Drunk On Love

What. Is. Happening?

Did he stow away in my luggage? Bribe the pilot? Hijack physics?

Because how in theactual hellwas Manav Oberoi here—atDelhi airport, holding my hand, whispering in my ear, like we were in the middle of a casual Sunday date?

I was officially losing it.

“Who ishe?!” Naira’s voice pierced through my panic spiral.

“Manav,” he replied, smoothly extending a hand toward her. “The boyfriend.”

What now?

“Wait, WHAT?!” Naira gawked. “You didn’t tell me you had aboyfriend!?”

Oh God. Oh God. I was going to faint.

He turned to me with a smug little grin. “Can’t wait to meet Dadi.”

Dadi.

DADI?!

I needed medical attention.

“Yeah… Dadi,” he repeated casually. “We’re here to celebrate her birthday, remember?”

I couldn’t speak. My brain was buffering.

Before I could form a coherent sentence, he pulled me into another hug and whispered in my ear, “Cheeseball, your mouth is still open. And you might want to smile a little—you’ve finally found your fake boyfriend. Oh, and one more thing—how good are you at dealing with the media?”

Media?

What media?

I barely had time to register the question before chaos erupted around us—cameras, mics, reporters shouting questions in rapid fire.

“Manav sir, welcome back to India!”

“Sir, is it true you were on vacation with your girlfriend?”

“Sir, in a recent interview, you said you don’t believe in love—what changed?”

“What happened to your last girlfriend, sir?”

“Is she… alive?”

The flashing lights, the rapid-fire questions, the chaos—it was all too much. My hand instinctively tightened around Manav’s, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” he said smoothly, his voice steady and commanding. “I’m here for some personal matters. I hope you’ll respect that.”

What the hell is happening?!

When did I become Manav Oberoi’s girlfriend?Did I land in some parallel universe where people have lost their minds?

I barely remembered when Manav had grabbed my hand, led me through the crowd, and settled me into his car. And now, here I was—being dragged into an unfamiliar but insanely huge building filled with too many people.

And then, there washer. The tall, elegant, and very pissed-off woman was glaring at Manav like he’d just set the building on fire. Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to burn a hole through his head with sheer force.