The Billionaire's Forced Wife

Aarohi's world shattered the moment she heard her father's voice tremble on the phone. "Aarohi, beta... we have lost everything. The company, the house... everything. If we don't pay them by tonight, they will take everything." Before she could ask who "they" were, the call disconnected. Her hands were shaking as she stood in the middle of her college library, her innocent eyes filled with tears. At 21, she had never seen the cruel side of the world. She was just a simple, kind-hearted girl who believed in fairytales. On the other side of the city, in a 50th floor glass cabin, Arjun Rathore was signing a deal that would make him the most powerful man in the country. 29 years old, cold, ruthless, handsome enough to make any woman fall, but his heart was made of ice. The Mafia King, the Billionaire CEO. No one dared to say no to him. His assistant entered, "Sir, Sharma has agreed to the condition." Arjun didn't even look up. His voice was dark and deep. "Good. Send the marriage papers to his house. He has 24 hours. His daughter for his debt. That's the deal." Aarohi reached home and saw her parents crying. A black luxury car was parked outside. Two men in black suits stood at their door. "Mrs. Sharma, your husband has already signed. Your daughter Aarohi Sharma will marry Mr. Arjun Rathore tomorrow morning. This is the contract marriage agreement. 6 months. After that, he will free your family from a debt of 50 crores." Aarohi's mother screamed, "No! My daughter is not for sale!" But her father, with broken eyes, said, "Aarohi, please... he is a very powerful man. If you don't do this, we will be on the streets. Your younger brother..." Aarohi felt her whole life collapse. Forced marriage? With a stranger? A mafia? The next morning, she was standing in a designer red lehenga that cost more than her father's entire life savings, in a massive mansion that looked like a palace. And then he entered. Arjun Rathore. In a black suit, his eyes cold as winter, his jaw sharp. He looked at her from top to bottom, like she was something he had bought. "So you are Aarohi," he said, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "You look... innocent. Exactly what I expected." "I don't want to marry you," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Please leave my family alone." He stepped closer, too close. She could smell his expensive perfume. He lifted her chin with one finger, forcing her to look into his dark, dangerous eyes. "You don't have a choice, sweetheart. From today, you are my wife. My young wife. You will live in my house, follow my rules. And don't ever try to run away." "Why me? Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice breaking. A small, cruel smile appeared on his lips. "Because your father stole from me. And now, I am collecting my interest. You." He pulled her closer, his lips dangerously close to her ear. "Be a good girl, and these six months will be easy. Be a bad girl, and I will show you why they call me the devil." Aarohi closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. She had dreamt of a love story filled with sweetness and love, but fate had written a love-hate story with a bad boy. The priest started chanting the mantras. In a few minutes, she would become Mrs. Aarohi Arjun Rathore. A contract wife. A forced wife. But what she didn't know was that Arjun Rathore, the man who never loved anyone, was already obsessed with her innocent face since the first time he saw her photo. This was not just a contract. It was the beginning of a dangerous, dark, and seductive love. ---