An Arranged Marriage

The Alliance

Kartik adjusted his cufflinks, glancing at his reflection in the tinted windows of the car as they pulled up to The Pearl, one of Ahmedabad’s most exclusive restaurants. The luxurious ambience, crystal chandeliers, and the perfectly manicured lawns beyond the restaurant were a world apart from the chaos of the city. A fitting location for the families to finalize the merger of the Poddar and Oberoi empires.

His parents sat beside him, as composed as ever. His mother, impeccably dressed in a silk saree, glanced at him and nodded approvingly. His father, Raghav Poddar, remained quiet, his eyes focused on the building ahead, calculating and focused as usual. The Poddars did nothing without purpose. This evening was no exception.

Tonight was about sealing the deal with Misha Oberoi.

Kartik had met her a handful of times, always from a distance. She was beautiful, no denying that. The kind of beauty men admired but respected—fair, with those big, expressive eyes and a kind of quiet grace that came naturally to her. Kartik had seen plenty of women, but Misha was... different. She wasn’t flashy, nor did she try too hard to be noticed. Yet she always stood out, a magnet in every room.

Still, Kartik couldn’t forget her role in all this. She wasn’t just a woman he was about to marry—she was a responsibility, an obligation to the family. That was how he had always looked at it.

As they entered the restaurant, he immediately spotted Misha, her parents beside her. She wore a green saree tonight, a shade that made her skin glow. The fabric hugged her curves just enough to catch his attention, though he masked his reaction behind a neutral expression. Kartik had seen beautiful women before, but something about the way Misha carried herself was different. She was poised, soft-spoken, yet there was an underlying tension he couldn’t quite place.

She glanced at him, her eyes flickering for a moment before she looked away. Kartik allowed a slight smirk to touch his lips. This was going to be interesting.

As the families exchanged pleasantries, their mothers complimenting each other’s outfits, his father and Misha’s father delved straight into business talk—discussing future prospects, the strength of the partnership, and, of course, the upcoming engagement. But Kartik’s mind was elsewhere, focused on Misha. She hadn’t said a word yet, but he could tell something was off. Her usual bubbliness seemed restrained, her smile tight, as if she didn’t want to be here.

After a round of formalities and conversations that barely skimmed the surface of anything meaningful, his father leaned back and made a suggestion that Kartik had been expecting.

"Why don’t you two step outside and talk? Get to know each other a little better."

It wasn’t a request.

Kartik met Misha’s eyes briefly, and for a moment, he thought she might refuse. But she nodded, rising gracefully from her seat. He followed her out of the restaurant and into the garden. The air was cooler outside, a faint breeze stirring the leaves. The garden was beautifully lit, small fairy lights winding around the trees, casting a warm glow.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the tension thick between them. It wasn’t the usual awkwardness of two people forced to talk. No, this was something more.

Then it happened.

Misha’s heel caught in a small crack in the pavement, and she stumbled. Without thinking, Kartik reached out, his arm catching her just before she could fall. Her body pressed lightly against his for the briefest moment, and he felt her warmth, her perfume—a soft, floral scent—filling the space between them. Her wide eyes met his, startled.

“Careful,” he murmured, steadying her before letting go.

She stepped back, clearly embarrassed, but there was something else in her expression. Resentment? Frustration?

“I don’t want to marry you,” Misha said, her voice low but firm.

Kartik blinked, taken aback by her directness. He hadn’t expected that.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked, his voice even, though curiosity flared inside him.

She shook her head. “No. That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” His eyes bore into hers, trying to read her. Most women would jump at the chance to marry into the Poddar family, to marry someone like him. Yet here she was, rejecting the very thing most people craved.

“I just don’t want this life,” she said, her tone soft but unwavering. “I don’t want to be tied down in a marriage where I’m expected to be someone I’m not. To live by rules I didn’t make.”

Kartik studied her for a moment, intrigued. She was more than the sweet, bubbly girl he had pegged her to be. There was something challenging about her, something real. She didn’t want him. And for some reason, that made him want to win this battle even more.

“You don’t have a choice,” Kartik said finally, his voice calm but resolute. “We’re getting married. It’s what our parents want. It’s what’s going to happen.”

She looked away, visibly upset. He could tell she hated his confidence, the way he acted like it was a done deal. But she wasn’t going to walk away from this. Not with their families involved. She would have to play her part, just as he was playing his.

Still, something about her intrigued him. She wasn’t just another socialite, eager to please. She had her own mind, her own desires. It made her different. And Kartik, for all his detachment, found himself drawn to that spark of resistance in her.

Before he could say anything else, they were called back inside. The moment they re-entered the restaurant, all eyes were on them. His parents, her parents, waiting expectantly.

“Well?” his mother asked, smiling.

Kartik glanced at Misha, who looked like she was fighting the urge to run. But she couldn’t. Not now.

“I like her,” he said, his voice smooth. “I think this will work.”

Misha’s face tightened, but she said nothing. She couldn’t refuse—not here, not in front of everyone.

And just like that, the wedding was set. The date was fixed for next month. The deal was done.