Here is chapter 08 of TRISHA:his only obsession.🌷

Hope you all will like it.🎀

This is my first book so please show some support and love.💓

Also English is not my first language so ignore grammatical mistakes and errors. If you want you can correct me in the comment section as well.🍂

That's all. Enjoy reading 🦋

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Kabir's POV;



As I walked into the room, my eyes instantly found her. She was standing near the mirror, talking to Kiara, unaware of my presence. But I- I was completely aware of her.

The moment I saw her in that gown, I forgot how to breathe for a second.

A deep blue, off-shoulder gown hugged her figure perfectly, the delicate shimmer catching the light as she moved. The soft layers of fabric cascaded down like a dream, making her look nothing less than a queen. Her long hair was left open, framing her face in loose waves. The little earrings she wore sparkled subtly, adding just the right touch of elegance.

She wasn't even trying, yet she looked breathtaking.

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms, watching as she laughed at something Kiara said. That laugh- it had always been my weakness. Even now, when she despises me, it still pulls me in like a moth to a flame.

She turned slightly, adjusting her bracelet, and that's when she noticed me. Her smile dropped, her expression hardening within a second.

"Aap yahan kya kar rahe ho?" (What are you doing here?) she asked, her voice sharp.

I smirked, stepping closer. "Meri biwi ho, aap ko lene aaya hoon." (You're my wife. I came to take you.)

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Main khud neeche aa sakti hoon, tumhe zaroorat nahi hai." (I can come down myself, you're not needed.)

I ignored her defiance, my gaze shamelessly tracing every inch of her. "Aap ko pata bhi hai, kitni khoobsurat lag rahi hai aap ?" (Do you even realize how beautiful you look?)

For the first time, I saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. Just for a second. But then, as expected, she masked it with annoyance.

"Agar tareef karne aaye ho, toh zaroorat nahi hai. Tumse sunna mujhe acha nahi lagega." (If you're here to compliment me, don't bother. I don't want to hear it from you.)

I chuckled, stepping even closer. "Lekin sach toh yahi hai, aur mai sirf sach bolta hoon, Mrs. Oberoi." (But the truth is the truth, and I only speak the truth, Mrs. Oberoi.)

Her jaw tightened at that name. I knew it irritated her. But I also knew- deep down, somewhere behind all that anger and resentment- she wasn't entirely unaffected by me.

And that was enough to keep me going.

"Chalein?" (Shall we?) I offered my hand.

She looked at it, then at me, her eyes filled with everything she wanted to say but didn't. Then, without a word, she walked past me, straight towards the door.

I smirked again. She could pretend all she wanted- but this game was far from over.

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Author's POV;



The reception hall was nothing short of a dream, a perfect blend of elegance and grandeur that left everyone mesmerized the moment they stepped in.

The first thing that caught the eye was the breathtaking entrance-draped in sheer ivory fabric, adorned with cascading fairy lights and delicate floral arrangements of white roses, lilies, and soft green leaves. The pathway leading inside was lined with tall, golden candelabras, their flickering flames casting a warm, inviting glow.

Inside, the main hall was a masterpiece. The ceiling was covered in layers of flowing white drapes, creating an ethereal effect, while multiple grand chandeliers hung gracefully, their crystals sparkling like a thousand stars. The golden glow of the chandeliers reflected off the glossy white flooring, which bore an elegant monogram of their initials in the center-a personalized touch of sophistication.

The stage, where the couple would sit, was an enchanting sight. A delicate backdrop of ivory curtains, adorned with floral garlands and twinkling fairy lights, set a romantic mood. The seating arrangement was a mix of gold and beige chairs, carefully placed around tables draped in luxurious fabric, decorated with elegant centerpieces-crystal vases filled with fresh white flowers and flickering candles that added a touch of warmth and intimacy.

One of the most striking features of the reception was the dance floor, situated beneath a magnificent canopy of fairy lights. The glass ceiling allowed glimpses of the night sky, making it feel as though they were dancing under a blanket of stars. The entire setting exuded magic, romance, and the promise of a beautiful beginning.

Soft instrumental music played in the background, blending harmoniously with the hushed whispers of guests admiring the décor. The golden candlelit glow mixed with the dreamy, starlit effect created an atmosphere that was both intimate and grand-a perfect reflection of Trisha and Kabir's story, filled with love, intensity, and unspoken emotions.

It was not just a reception hall-it was a fairytale brought to life, a place where time seemed to pause, allowing everyone to bask in the beauty of the moment.







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Trisha's POV;



As soon as we stepped into the grand reception hall, I felt the weight of countless eyes on us. The soft hum of whispers filled the air as guests and media turned their attention toward us. The flashes of cameras flickered like stars, capturing every single movement. My heart pounded-not out of nervousness, but because I hated this unwanted attention.

Kabir walked beside me, his grip firm yet effortless, exuding an aura of dominance and control. I, on the other hand, tried to maintain my composure, lifting my chin slightly, not letting anyone see the storm inside me.

The stairs leading to our seats were beautifully decorated, but my heavy light blue gown-though breathtaking-made it difficult to walk with ease. As I took a step forward, my heel got tangled in the soft layers of fabric. Before I could even register what was happening, I felt myself tilting forward.

My breath hitched.

Before I could hit the ground, a strong hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me back into stability. The familiar scent of his expensive cologne surrounded me as I found myself inches away from Kabir, his arm holding me protectively.

Our eyes met.

For a few seconds, the world faded-the murmurs, the flashing lights, the grand hall-everything disappeared. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto mine, filled with something unreadable. Was it concern? Possession? Or something deeper? My hands clutched his shoulders instinctively, and his hold tightened just a bit, as if silently reassuring me.

My heart skipped a beat.

Then, reality snapped back.

I quickly steadied myself, my face heating up, and pulled away from him. His smirk told me he had noticed my moment of vulnerability. "Careful, Mrs. Oberoi," he whispered just low enough for me to hear, his voice teasing yet holding an edge of seriousness.

I huffed, fixing my gown, refusing to look at him. "I don't need your help," I muttered under my breath, walking ahead before he could say anything else.

He chuckled lightly, following me as we finally took our seats on the grand stage. I could still feel his lingering gaze, but I chose to ignore it, keeping my focus on the event ahead.

But deep inside, my heart still raced from that fleeting moment.

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After meeting and greeting countless guests who congratulated us with smiles-some genuine, some merely for show-I finally got a moment to breathe. But before I could even process everything, the emcee's voice echoed through the grand hall.

As soon as the anchor announced the dance, the spotlight fell on Kiara and Pratiksha. The music started, and both of them stepped onto the dance floor with confident smirks.

"यू नो शी लाइक थ ड्रामा

येआः शी इस सेक्सी मम्मा

एंड वेन शी डॅन्स एवेरिबडी गो उ हू उ हू..."

Kiara twirled dramatically, flipping her hair, while Pratiksha struck a playful pose, swaying to the beats. The crowd erupted in cheers.

"यू नो शी लाइक थ ड्रामा

येआः शी इस सेक्सी मम्मा

एंड वेन शी डॅन्स एवेरिबडी गो उ हू उ हू..."

Pratiksha extended her hand, pulling Kiara closer as they did a synchronized step, both grinning mischievously. Kiara added a quick spin, making her dress flare as she pointed teasingly towards the audience.

"हाँ देखो भोली कितनी

उतनी पर टेढ़ी चीज़ है..."

Kiara placed a hand on her hip, acting innocent for a moment before dramatically flipping her dupatta over her shoulder. Pratiksha leaned forward slightly, raising her eyebrows, as if revealing a secret. Their expressions, full of mischief and confidence, had everyone clapping along with the beat.

As the song played, I couldn't help but lose myself in the rhythm. Kiara and Pratiksha pulled me into the dance, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "Trisha, tu bhi aa!" (Trisha, you have to join us!) Kiara insisted, dragging me to the center of the dance floor.

The music continued, and I danced freely, enjoying every beat. The energy was electrifying, laughter filled the air, and for a moment, I forgot everything. It was just me, my friends, and the music. But then, in the middle of a spin, I felt my heel slip. My heart skipped a beat as I lost balance-when suddenly, two strong arms caught me just in time.

My eyes widened. Kabir.

For a second, everything around me blurred. His intense gaze locked onto mine, his grip firm yet gentle. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. The moment stretched, silent yet loud. Before I could react, cheers erupted around us.

"Ek aur dance ho jaaye!" (Let's have another dance!) Vihaan whistled, and the crowd joined in, encouraging us.

I stepped back, shaking my head. No way. Kabir doesn't even know how to dance. There was no point. Just as I turned to leave, I felt a firm grip on my wrist.

I stopped.

Slowly, I turned around-and there he was. His fingers wrapped around my hand, his grip unyielding. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes... those held something intense.

Before I could process anything, the next song started playing.

As the music played, I was still in shock. Kabir knew how to dance. And not just dance-he moved with effortless grace, with a confidence that left me speechless.

"Tumko paaya hai toh jaise khoya hoon...

Kehna chahoon bhi toh tumse kya kahoon..."

Before I could process anything, he twirled me again, this time slowly, deliberately. My gown flared as I spun, and the next second, his strong hands caught my waist, pulling me close.

Our eyes met. My breath hitched.

His grip was firm, his touch warm. My heart pounded so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.

I tried to take a step back, but he pulled me closer, his intense gaze never leaving mine.

"Chod do mujhe," I whispered, more to myself than to him. (Let me go.)

He smirked. "Aaj nahi, Mrs. Oberoi." (Not today, Mrs. Oberoi.)

He dipped me backward with perfect control, making me gasp. The way he held me, as if I was meant to be in his arms, made my head spin.

"Kisi zubaan mein bhi woh lafz hi nahi...

Ki jeene mein tum ho kya tumhe main bata sakun..."

As the next lines played, Kabir's grip on my waist tightened, pulling me even closer. Our breaths mingled, the space between us vanishing. I could feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of my gown, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

He moved effortlessly, confidently, guiding me as if he had been waiting for this moment.

I wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Not when he was the reason for my pain. Not when I had sworn to hate him.

"Main agar kahoon tumsa haseen,

Kaynaat mein nahi hai kahin..."

As the words echoed through the hall, Kabir's fingers intertwined with mine, pulling me into a graceful spin. The soft fabric of my gown twirled around us, but my mind wasn't on the dance anymore-it was on him. The way his deep eyes held mine, the way his touch sent an unexplainable warmth through me.

"Tareef yeh bhi to sach hai, kuch bhi nahi..."

He pulled me closer, our bodies almost touching. My breath hitched as I felt his hand glide to the small of my back, steadying me, claiming me. I tried to remind myself that this was just a dance, that it meant nothing.

But why did it feel like everything?

"Tumko paaya hai toh jaise khoya hoon..."

I felt lightheaded, lost in the moment. Kabir's hand slid up to cup my face gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek as he gazed at me with an unreadable expression. My heart pounded against my ribs.

This was not supposed to happen.

I should step back. I should push him away.

But when he twirled me again, only to pull me back into his arms with a firm yet effortless move, my hands instinctively clutched onto his shoulders.

His grip was strong and protective. His gaze-intense, unwavering.

And in that moment, I realized something terrifying.

I wasn't sure if I was dancing... or falling again.

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That's all.



Tanvii ~🌻