Love by design
313 Words
Setting: Bangkok, Thailand – Early afternoon at the luxurious "Sathorn Pearl Palace," a heritage riverside venue surrounded by tropical gardens.
The heat pressed down like a silk curtain—humid, heavy, and inescapable—as Arcon Mahra stepped out of the black sedan and stared up at the gleaming white facade of Sathorn Pearl Palace. A dream venue: vintage teakwood columns, golden lattice windows, and koi ponds tucked between the foliage, giving the illusion of serenity.
But no wedding was ever truly serene.
Not when Ayan Kapoor was the groom.
He greeted Arcon with a handshake as firm as his expression—and an even firmer to-do list.
"Seven days of events. Keep it elegant. No pink. Maki hates pink."
"Got it. Drama-free elegance. No pink."
Arcon jotted it down, unfazed.
He'd survived brides who cried over centerpiece heights and fathers who collapsed at the sight of the catering bill. But Ayan Kapoor?
A new breed of challenge—regal, unreadable, and terrifyingly precise.
The first site meeting kicked off in the garden courtyard, where the sunlight bounced off mosaic tiles and cicadas hummed like a live soundtrack. Arcon had just begun walking Ayan and Maki through the décor plan when a tall figure strolled in, late.
Worn jeans. A paint-streaked white T-shirt. Aviators pushed up like a crown of defiance.
"Sorry, traffic," the man said, all casual confidence and a grin too relaxed for a Kapoor.
Ayan's jaw tightened.
"Arcon, meet my younger brother, Arthik. Art. He's the best man."
Art gave a two-finger salute and flashed a lopsided smile.
"So, you're the magician with spreadsheets and fairy lights?"
"And you’re the walking disaster in designer shoes?" Arcon shot back, cool as marble.
Maki laughed. Ayan didn’t.
Art tilted his head, still looking at Arcon. A second too long.
"I like him."
Arcon didn’t answer. But suddenly, his clipboard felt heavier.
- Writer
