Page 53 of Claiming His Bollywood Cinderella

Naina swallowed when Vikram’s mother’s gaze, then her husband’s, suddenly fell on her. Then Daadiji waved at her with a broad smile. One by one, it seemed as if all the crowd were craning their heads to look at her. Strangers, acquaintances, there was no one who wasn’t staring in her direction, mouths agog, expressions full of awe.

A sudden silence fell over the crowd as if someone had sent a signal. For a hysterical second, Naina wondered if she was in a nightmare. Was she naked? Had she walked in with her face pack still on?

She freed one hand and tried to reach for her stepmother. Her arm met empty air. Even Jaya Ma had ditched her. She swallowed and looked up at the beautiful crystal chandelier on the high ceiling and she saw Zara standing on the upper balcony, with Virat by her side. Zara looked as though she had tears in her eyes and Virat...he gave Naina an encouraging nod.

And then into the silence came that old Tamil song. Her mother’s favorite. Her own eyes now full of tears, she simply stood there, letting the song seep into her. Letting it wash away all the sadness in her heart and filling it with fresh, bursting hope.

Because she knew then. She knew why they were all looking at her. Knew why her soul felt as if it had been slammed with an awareness she couldn’t deny.

Heart in her throat, Naina turned. Empty space greeted her until she looked down.

He was there—her very own hero. On his knees. In front of the entire world. Because Naina had no doubt this would be all over the internet in a few minutes.

Vikram Raawal on his knees for a very ordinary girl. Vikram Raawal in love. The Vikram Raawal who’d always walked the line of propriety with iron-clad rules.

Her breath slammed into her with such force that Naina thought she might just melt into a puddle.

In a half white kurta with gold piping at the Nehru collar, with his unruly hair pushed away to reveal those aristocratic features, he was broad and big and so gorgeous and...

And in his hands was a small velvet box with a ring that looked like a family heirloom that could probably be dated back a thousand years. A small oval ruby nestled amidst tiny diamonds...

Tears fell over her cheeks making the diamonds flicker extra hard. She shook her head, hating that she was making a mess of her face.

“Won’t you look at me, Dream Girl?”

There was no charm, no mockery, only tenderness in his voice. Nothing but unadulterated emotion. Such need that it made his voice hoarse.

And she finally met his gaze. “I... I never said you had to do this. I never demanded that you prove anything to me. Never.”

“Ahh...but I promised myself I’d always give you more than you ask, Naina. I never want you to doubt me again. Never doubt that you and only you have everything of me. Everything, including my heart.

“This is the ring that Daadu gave Daadi. I asked her for it because I thought I needed all the luck I can get and she gave it to us with all her blessings. But if you don’t like it—”

“I love it,” she whispered, because she did.

He looked at her with such naked adoration in his eyes that Naina swallowed. “I’m all in, Dream Girl.

“You could walk away from here without another backward look and I would still love you. They could all laugh at the cliché I’ve become and I would still love you. Twenty years later, I could be the worst-case scenario for every Romeo out there...stories and songs could be written about me—horrible rap songs, and Virat will probably make a movie about all this, just to get back at me and I would still absolutely love you.”

And then Naina was laughing and crying, because God, she loved this man so much.

“Whether you say yes or not, I will love you from now to forever, Naina. Forgive this old guy for not being wise enough to see it sooner.”

“Stop it,” she said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not old. And you’re just imperfectly perfect.”

“Virat told me that you were the one who tweaked the film’s storyline in the end.”

“I...the more I read it, the more I realized it had no true happy ending.” She pressed her hand to his mouth. “I know you want to make this a serious movie but who said historical sagas that show the Independence Movement shouldn’t also have a little happiness too, Vikram? It doesn’t have to have such a bleak landscape to be taken seriously.

“I know your grandfather didn’t actually meet and fall in love with your grandmother until later on. But why can’t you tweak the timing in the film a little and give them both the happy-ever-after they deserve?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I think that ending makes it shine, Dream Girl. I just wondered why you didn’t come and tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to take anything away from what you’ve already achieved, Vikram. And I never want you to think I’m in this for the opportunities you could give me.”

“I never thought that, Dream Girl. Ever.”

“I knew Virat would give me an objective opinion of my idea. And Zara’s already arranged for me to talk to another producer about another script idea I have. I can’t tell you how excited I am. And it’s all thanks to you.”

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