𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊!

The rain poured relentlessly against the glass walls, each drop striking with a sharp, rhythmic tap… tap… tap, as if time itself was running out. Aanya stood frozen near the entrance of the massive office. The polished marble floor beneath her heels echoed every slight movement— click… click… click… Too loud. Too exposed. Too real. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, knuckles turning pale. She could feel her pulse in her fingertips, fast and uneven. Fifty lakhs. The number repeated in her head like a ticking clock. If she didn’t arrange it in time… Her father’s weak smile flashed before her eyes. The hospital smell. The machines. The unbearable helplessness. Aanya inhaled slowly, but the air felt heavy. Everything about this place screamed power. The glass walls. The dim golden lighting. The suffocating silence. And him. Arjun Malhotra. He sat behind the large desk, unmoving, as if carved out of control itself. His gaze was fixed on the file in front of him, not even acknowledging her presence. Yet somehow— It felt like he was already aware of every breath she took. The silence stretched. Long. Uncomfortable. Deliberate. Control. That’s what he liked. Aanya shifted slightly. Click. The sound of her heel echoed again, sharper this time, breaking the stillness. His pen stopped. Then slowly— He looked up. Dark eyes. Cold. Calculating. And suddenly, the room felt smaller. “Sit.” The word was calm. But it carried weight. Authority. It wasn’t a request. Aanya swallowed, her throat dry. For a moment, her feet refused to move. Then reality hit again. Fifty lakhs. She forced herself forward. Click… click… click… Each step felt heavier than the last, as if she was walking into something she wouldn’t be able to walk out of. She sat down across from him, back straight, hands clenched in her lap. “You needed money,” he said. No greeting. No introduction. Just a statement. Like he already knew everything. Her fingers tightened. “Yes.” “How much?” Straight to the point. No hesitation. Aanya’s lips parted, but the words got stuck. Saying it would make it real. “…Fifty lakhs.” The rain hit harder against the glass. Tap. Tap. Tap. He didn’t react. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even look surprised. He simply leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady, as if assessing something far deeper than her words. “I’ll give you double.” Her breath hitched. “What?” The word slipped out before she could stop it. “But,” he continued, his voice lowering just enough to send a strange chill down her spine, “there’s a condition.” Of course there was. Nothing this easy ever came without a price. Her heartbeat quickened. Loud. Thud… thud… thud… “What condition?” Arjun placed the file aside and stood up. Slowly. Unhurried. The faint sound of his shoes against the marble floor echoed with quiet authority— step… step… step… Each step measured. Each movement controlled. He walked toward her. And stopped— Too close. Close enough for her to notice the faint scent of his cologne. Close enough for her breath to hitch. Close enough to make her aware of every small detail— The sharp line of his jaw. The intensity in his eyes. The way he looked at her like he already owned the answer. “Marry me.” The words landed softly. But the impact— Was anything but. For a second, everything went silent. Even the rain. “…What?” “A contract marriage,” he clarified, his tone steady, almost indifferent. “One year. You play the role of my wife.” Her mind struggled to catch up. Marriage? To him? “No emotions,” he continued. “No questions.” Her heart raced faster. “Why me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. A faint smirk appeared on his lips. “Because you need the money,” he said. A pause. “And I need someone who won’t fall in love with me.” The words were simple. But they hit unexpectedly. Something about them stung. Aanya stood up abruptly. “You’re insane.” “Maybe.” No denial. No reaction. Just calm acceptance. “But I’m also your only option.” Silence fell again. But this time— It was suffocating.