Forbiddenly Bound To  You

Zamian leaned in and whispered softly into Mira’s ear, "It’s fine, I’m here," before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. The tender gesture sent warmth through Mira, unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was so profound that the person controlling the lights momentarily forgot their role, and the room dimmed briefly as if the moment between them commanded attention. When the lights returned, Mira’s cheeks were flushed pink, perfectly complementing her striking appearance.

As the event began, Zamian and Mira settled into their seats. Zamian was more focused on Mira than the proceedings, handing her a glass of grape juice while he sipped his own wine. Mira, having only recently been introduced to the world of high society, looked unsure when she saw the more sophisticated beverages like aqua, a type of premium alcohol. Zamian noticed her uncertainty and decided this wasn’t the moment for her to try it—perhaps a private setting would be more appropriate.

Mira’s attention soon shifted to the auction, where the bids were climbing rapidly. She couldn’t help but reflect on the stark contrast between the extravagant sums people were spending on art and the struggles of those who barely managed to afford a loaf of bread. Amidst her thoughts, a particular painting caught her eye. It was a striking piece that depicted a boy and a girl. The boy had his back turned, his gaze directed elsewhere, while the girl stared at him with a deep, almost melancholic intensity. The painting stirred something deep within Mira, evoking emotions she couldn’t quite put into words.

Zamian’s voice broke through her reverie. "Do you like it?" he asked, his tone gentle.

Mira nodded, her eyes still locked on the painting. As the auction continued, the bids escalated quickly. The auctioneer’s voice rang out, "Twenty thousand, going once, going twice..."

Just as the auctioneer was about to close the bid, Zamian’s voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. Cold yet deep and velvety, it commanded attention. "One hundred thousand."

A collective gasp rose from the room. The painting was small, no larger than a typical frame, and yet Zamian’s bid was shockingly high. Mira’s eyes widened in astonishment. She turned to Zamian and whispered, "It’s okay."

Zamian leaned in closer, his voice soft but firm. "Shh, you’re my wife. Whatever you want, I’ll get for you."

Mira was left speechless, struggling to comprehend why Zamian would spend such an exorbitant amount on a painting, especially when she could barely afford a larger vase. Her mind raced to make sense of his lavish gesture and the extraordinary sum he had bid. It was a moment of sheer bewilderment, and she was still trying to process its significance.