Taming The Charming Director

Greedy

"What do I need to show you to satisfy your insatiable curiosity, Arnav?"

They had kissed before once, before they were bound in marriage. Raellyn still recalled how shamefully inappropriate it had felt. And yet, she had allowed it. Because now, there was nothing left to lose. The man had taken responsibility in the most traditional way: by marrying her.

“Everything,” Arnav replied with a smirk. “I’m a rather greedy man, you know.”

“Yes, I know that all too well. So greedy, in fact, you didn’t even need time to consider your bride.”

Her words were sharp, laced with bitterness. He only chuckled softly in return.

“Haven’t we talked about this enough? Aren’t you tired of bringing up the same old topic?”

“Then stop looking at my body like that. Honestly, it’s distracting.”

There it was again her boldness. Arnav was always caught off guard by how unexpectedly brazen she could be. She was never predictable, always wielding her words like a whip, turning even the most mundane exchange into something riveting. She was unlike anyone he'd ever met. Her presence, her voice, her eyes everything about her stirred something dangerous inside him.

He smiled, slow and knowing. She, however, didn’t return it.

“Anything for you, my wife,” he replied teasingly.

Raellyn frowned. The way he called her that it unsettled her, even though he had every right to use the term now. She looked as though she wanted to protest, but then, perhaps reminded of her place, her lips closed, damp and silent.

Arnav stared at her, quietly savoring the view of the woman he had just claimed. He’d recently taken a liking to admiring her beauty in silence, letting his gaze drink in the natural allure she didn’t seem aware she possessed. As a man who hadn’t touched a woman in quite some time, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t anticipating tonight. He imagined her flushed cheeks, her sharp gaze dulled by the haze of desire… God, it was intoxicating. Just the idea of her, the mere image, ignited a fire in his veins. He was shocked at how deeply he wanted her. That desire was real. And dangerous.

But this wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He was meant to be cold, detached. Cruel, if necessary. He wasn’t here to fall again. Not like before. Not ever.

That version of Arnav the man who once gave everything in the name of love was long dead. And he would never resurrect that fool again. Giving away his heart was not an option. Not when the price was shattering it into irreparable pieces.

“I’ll see you tonight, my dear,” he said finally, voice soft but heavy with implication. “I look forward to our wedding night.”

Then, without waiting for her reaction, he turned and walked away, leaving Raellyn standing where she was, her expression unreadable. Arnav, meanwhile, wrestled with his inner chaos, trying desperately to anchor his thoughts. He reminded himself that Raellyn was simply a means to an end a vessel to carry his heir, a body to satisfy his needs. Nothing more.

________________________________________

Now, Raellyn bore the title: Mrs. Arnav.

It should have made her happy. After all, it meant the chaos that had plagued her life had finally found a resolution one far better than she had ever dared to expect.

If she compared Arnav to Arnese, her former lover, it was clear who the better man was. Arnav, with all his control and power, outshined his brother in every way. And Arsene? he had broken her. Left her in pieces, lied, vanished. He had been the catalyst for her ruin.

Yet this current reality? Most people would call it a stroke of luck. A miracle. A girl from nowhere, marrying a renowned director. It sounded like a fairytale.

But to Raellyn, it was anything but magical.

There was no love here none of the warm, fluttering sweetness one read in books or saw in films. Their marriage was a contract, forged not by romance, but necessity. And deep down, that disturbed her.

Her heart beat faster, unease blooming in her chest. She questioned whether their marriage was even legal. Could it truly be recognized, considering it was prompted by a knife and a desperate demand? Was Arnav plotting something else beneath that calm, unreadable exterior? After all, he was Arnese’s brother surely he would side with his own blood.

She shook the thought away, willing herself to focus. No good would come from spiraling into doubt. Truthfully, she had no real value to Arnav. She was nothing but a pawn.

If she were honest, she had demanded marriage in a fit of rage, not reason. It had been reckless, irrational. She had expected a payoff money, a clean settlement. Not this.

Never this.

She recalled Arnese’s stories of his older brother: how Arnav loathed scandal and despised complicated women. A man feared in the industry someone who could ruin reputations, exile you from high society, or worse... make you disappear, all without rising from his chair.

And now, she was his wife.

All she could do was pray to whatever power above that the man she had married wouldn’t destroy her life any further than it already was.

Still, she had gained more than money. Far more.

With Arnav, came connections access to power, prestige, and the glamorous world of celebrities, tycoons, and aristocrats. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore. It was survival. Her family needed a savior. She needed a ladder to climb out of the pit she had been born into. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage could be that ladder.

Her thoughts halted as she remembered Arnav’s final whisper:

“I look forward to our wedding night, my dear.”

She swallowed hard. The memory unsettled her. A strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation twisted in her gut. Would he truly wait until nightfall? Or would he drag her into the flames of reality sooner?

She hesitated at his study door. She needed his permission to leave to visit her uncle and aunt, to tell them what had happened.

One knock. A moment later, his deep voice beckoned.

“Enter.”

She swallowed her nerves and stepped inside. She had faced him with a blade once why was it harder now, with nothing in her hands?

“Arnav, I need to talk.”

“What is it, my wife? Something urgent? Or are you simply eager for our first night together?”

“No! That’s not it,” she snapped, cheeks warming.

“Then what?”

“I want to go to my uncle’s house. To inform them that I’ve married… that I’ll be moving out.”

“Call them.”

“No. I want to see them in person, and I’d like to stay there for a week.”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“You may visit them. But you will not stay overnight. You must be back tonight.”

“There are things I need to settle before moving in here. You’re being unreasonable.”

“I am your husband now. Perhaps you should understand your new place before calling me unreasonable.”

“Then at least give me three days.”

“There will be no negotiations. You may go. But you must return by nightfall. If you disobey me, I will not be merciful. Even if you are my wife.”

She clenched her fists but nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Jhon!” Arnav called.

A man who had witnessed their wedding stepped through the door.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Prepare the car. Escort my wife to her uncle’s home. And make sure she’s back before night.”

“Understood.”

“What? I can go by myself. You don’t need to send anyone.”

“I don’t trust easily. Especially not people I’ve only just met.”

His stare pierced through her. She had no argument. Arnav was firm, unwavering. Fighting him was pointless. And perhaps, deep down, she was a little afraid of what might happen if she pushed too far.

“I’ll make sure our night is unforgettable, darling,” he said softly, just as Jhon opened the door for her.

Her skin prickled. Was that a promise? Or a warning?