Kinjal arched an eyebrow at Shubman, her arms crossed defensively as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “So, when’s this fake relationship supposed to start? Tomorrow? Next week? Please tell me I have time to mentally prepare for this insanity,” she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Shubman tilted his head, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Why wait?” he said, his voice calm but mischievous.

Kinjal straightened up immediately, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, ‘why wait’?” she asked, already feeling a sense of dread creeping in.

Shubman didn’t reply right away. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone in one swift motion. Before Kinjal could question him further, he stepped closer to her, his free hand gently grasping hers.

“What are you doing?” Kinjal demanded, her voice sharp as her cheeks flushed from the sudden contact.

Shubman smirked, holding her hand firmly but gently, his long fingers intertwining with hers. “Starting the relationship,” he said simply. “Say cheese.”

“Excuse me?!”

Kinjal barely had time to process what was happening before Shubman raised his phone and angled it toward their clasped hands. The camera lens caught the soft glow of the kitchen light reflecting off their skin, their hands intertwined like a picture-perfect couple.

Click.

Kinjal yanked her hand back the second the shutter went off, glaring at Shubman. “Are you insane? You can’t just—”

“Oh, but I can,” Shubman interrupted, already examining the photo on his phone with a satisfied grin. “It’s a good shot. Simple. Aesthetic. Just what we need.”

“We?!” Kinjal nearly screeched, her temper flaring.

Shubman looked up at her, his expression infuriatingly nonchalant. “You’re my fake girlfriend now, remember? This is what couples do—hold hands, take photos, post them on Instagram. The basics.”

Kinjal gaped at him. “I didn’t agree to this! You’re taking this way too far—”

Ignoring her protests, Shubman opened his Instagram app. Kinjal’s heart raced as she watched him swipe through his gallery, select the photo, and begin typing out a caption.

“Shubman, don’t you dare—”

“Relax,” Shubman said, his tone maddeningly calm as he typed. “This is part of the deal, senorita. You signed up for this.”

Kinjal lunged forward, trying to snatch the phone from his hands, but Shubman was faster. He turned his body away from her, shielding the screen as his thumbs moved swiftly.

“Shubman Gill!” she snapped, practically seething.

He glanced over his shoulder, flashing her a mischievous grin. “Too late.”

With a soft ping, the post went live. Shubman turned the phone around to show her the screen, his grin widening as he read the caption aloud:

“With my girl 💖”

Kinjal stared at the screen, horrified. Her name was tagged in the post, her profile now linked to the picture of their intertwined hands for the entire world to see.

“You posted it?” she whispered, her voice a mix of disbelief and outrage.

“Of course,” Shubman replied matter-of-factly, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “We’re official now. You can thank me later for the publicity boost.”

Kinjal’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, her brain scrambling to process the situation. “You’re absolutely insane,” she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Shubman shrugged, his grin still firmly in place. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, turning toward the door.

Kinjal clenched her fists, her cheeks burning with a mix of frustration and something else she couldn’t quite place. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath, glaring daggers at his back.

“Goodnight, senorita,” Shubman called over his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving her standing there alone—flustered, furious, and wondering what on earth she’d just gotten herself into.