Rishita_Garg

What happens when a hurricane disguised as a woman keeps accidentally ruining the life of a man who thrives on perfection? Aria Langley is sharp, stubborn, and has a strange habit of leaving chaos in her wake. Adrian Westwood is precise, polished, and perpetually unlucky whenever she's around. Their story doesn't begin with love at first sight. It begins with a flying laptop, a trip to the hospital, and a war of words.
In a world where laughter hides pain, secrets sleep beneath the surface, and some powers awaken only with love, this is the slow unfolding of two lives that were never supposed to intertwine. But fate, and disaster, have other plans.

A Beautiful Catastrophe Wife

Someone had left a plate of them on Aria's desk—chocolate chip, still warm. A sticky note read:

"For surviving another day without triggering a fire alarm. –D"

She grinned. Darian, obviously. The only sane soul in a sea of Westwood weirdness.

She took one bite, melted inside, then noticed Zara approaching with the grace of a storm cloud.

"The one where you pretend to look prepared."

In the conference room, Adrian was already there. Typing. Focused.

Zara slid Aria a folder. "Client brief. You'll be taking notes."

Aria pulled out her pen—except it wasn't her pen.

It was pink. Glittery. With a tiny unicorn topper.

Darian's innocent whistle from across the table told her everything.

Adrian glanced at the pen, then at her. "Interesting choice of weapon."

"Of course not. Just like the flying laptop wasn't yours either."

Zara coughed to hide her laugh. Darian beamed.

Aria gritted her teeth. "I swear I will get you back."

Adrian didn't respond. But the tiniest smirk curled his lips.

Later that evening, as she packed up, Aria caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored glass.

For a split second, her reflection shimmered. Not distorted—just... flickered, like heat waves.

She rubbed her eyes. "I need sleep."

He paused. "You still dodging my matchmaking attempts?"

"Yes. And I'll keep dodging until I'm in a retirement home."

Gramps laughed, but it sounded wistful. "You know, your mom used to say the same thing. Then she fell hard. Once."

"Yeah," she said softly. "And look where it got her."

In his office, Adrian stared at the internal message board. One note caught his eye.

Incident Report: Glitch in hallway sensor — motion blur detected, no subject identified.

Chapter Seven: The Cookie Conspiracy