## **Chapter 1: The Betrayal**
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The hotel room door was half open.
Laughter slipped through the gap — soft, intimate… wrong.
I stopped walking.
My fingers tightened around my phone as I stared at the number on the door.
**Room 1708.**
This was where my fiancé had said he was attending a “business meeting.”
My heart pounded, but I forced myself to move forward.
One step.
Two.
Then I saw them.
Him — **Arjun Malhotra**, the man I was supposed to marry in two weeks.
And her — wrapped in white sheets, her lips pressed against his bare chest.
The world tilted.
“I told you she trusts you too much,” the woman said lazily, tracing her finger over his skin.
Arjun laughed.
A sound I had once loved.
“She’s simple,” he replied. “Girls like her believe in love too easily.”
My breath shattered.
I pushed the door open fully.
It hit the wall with a loud bang.
They froze.
Arjun turned, his face draining of color.
“Riya—”
I walked in, my legs shaking, my chest burning.
“So this is your meeting?” I asked quietly.
The woman smirked and pulled the sheet higher, not even embarrassed.
Arjun stood up, grabbing his shirt. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”
Not sorry.
Not guilty.
Just… annoyed.
I laughed — a broken, hollow sound.
“Five years,” I said. “Five years of love. Of promises. Of lies.”
He sighed. “You’re overreacting.”
That was when my hand moved on its own.
**Slap.**
The sound echoed through the room.
His face turned red, not from shame — but anger.
“Are you crazy?” he snapped.
Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to cry.
“This wedding is over,” I said. “You’re dead to me.”
I turned to leave.
Then my phone rang.
The hospital number.
My heart dropped as I answered.
“Hello?”
“Are you Riya Sharma?” a nurse asked urgently. “Your father collapsed. We need immediate surgery.”
The words crushed me.
I ran.
---
The hospital smelled like fear.
The doctor didn’t sugarcoat it.
“Emergency heart surgery. The cost is very high.”
“How much?” I whispered.
He named a number that made my knees weaken.
I had no savings.
No time.
No one.
I slid down onto a chair, covering my face.
That was when a shadow fell over me.
“Stand up.”
The voice was calm. Cold.
I looked up.
A tall man stood there in a black suit, eyes sharp, unreadable. Power radiated from him — the kind that didn’t ask for permission.
“I don’t have time,” he continued. “Sign this.”
He handed me a file.
**Marriage Contract.**
I stared at him in disbelief. “What?”
“I’ll pay for your father’s surgery,” he said. “Every bill. Every debt.”
My heart raced.
“But,” he added, his gaze darkening, “you will become my wife. By midnight.”
“No love. No expectations. No questions.”
I swallowed hard. “Why me?”
A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips.
“Because you’ve just been betrayed,” he said.
“And broken people make the best deals.”
He placed a pen in my trembling hand.
“Sign it,” he said softly.
“Or watch your father die.”
My hand hovered over the paper.
And in that moment…
my life split into **before** and **after**.
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