The Offer You Can' t Refuse
811 Words
The next morning, I walked into Arham Khan’s office like I owned the place.
Because technically, I did. 40%.
His secretary tried to stop me. “Ms. Sharma, Mr. Khan is in a meeting—”
I didn’t even break stride. “Tell him it’s about his company.”
Arham was behind his desk, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He looked tired. Angry.
When he saw me, his jaw clenched. “You’re early for the divorce papers.”
I dropped a folder on his desk. The sound echoed in the silent room.
Inside were the share transfer documents, signed by my father yesterday at 11:47 PM. I’d been awake to watch it happen.
“You want out?” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Fine. But first, sign this.”
He opened it. His eyes scanned the first page, then the second. With every line, his expression got darker.
“Joint CEO position?” He looked up, disbelief written all over his face. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Not really,” I leaned forward, palms flat on his desk. “Your board called an emergency meeting this morning. They think you’re reckless after last night’s scene at the wedding. Word travels fast when you humiliate the daughter of Sharma Industries in front of 200 guests.”
Arham sat back, his chair creaking.
“So you’re using that against me.”
“I’m using leverage,” I corrected him. “If you fire me, the board fires you. If you keep me, we run the company together. For 6 months. After that, we revisit the divorce.”
He closed the folder slowly, like he was trying to control his temper.
“And after 6 months?”
“After 6 months,” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes, “we’ll see who wants the divorce more.”
The room got quiet. Only the sound of the AC and his breathing.
Arham stood up. He was 6’2”, and when he walked around the desk, the distance between us disappeared.
He stopped inches from me. Close enough that I could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes. Close enough that I remembered the way his hand felt when he placed the ring on my finger last night — before he took it back.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Aanya,” he said, voice low. Dangerous.
I didn’t blink. “I know. But you started it, Mr. Khan.”
He stared at me for 10 seconds. I stared back. Neither of us moved.
Then he picked up the pen from his desk. Black Montblanc. The same one he used to sign our marriage contract.
“Fine,” he said. “6 months. But if you mess this up…”
“If I mess up, you get everything,” I finished for him. “Deal.”
I extended my hand. He looked at it like it was poison.
Then he took it. His grip was firm, cold.
The moment our hands touched, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out.
One message. From my father.
_“We need to talk. Now.”_
I didn’t get to read the rest. Because Arham’s phone buzzed too.
He glanced at it, and his expression changed. All the cold control vanished. He looked… worried?
He looked at me and said one word:
“Your father.”
My stomach dropped.
What did he do now?
---
*10 minutes later*
Arham’s office was silent except for the sound of my father’s voice on speakerphone.
“Dad, what happened?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Aanya, it’s the bank,” he said. His voice was shaky. That wasn’t like him. My father never shook. “They’re freezing our accounts. All of them. Sharma Industries is under investigation for fraud.”
The word hit me like a slap.
Fraud?
“That’s impossible,” Arham said before I could speak. “Sharma Industries passed the audit last month. I signed off on it myself.”
“You signed off because you wanted the merger,” my father snapped. “Now someone’s planting fake documents. If this goes public, we’re finished. The shares you have, Aanya—they’ll be worthless.”
I felt the floor tilt under me.
6 months. The joint CEO position. The leverage. All of it was meaningless if the company collapsed.
“Who’s behind this?” I asked.
There was a pause.
“I don’t know,” my father said. “But the documents have your signature on them, Arham.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Arham. He looked back at me.
For the first time since last night, I couldn’t read him.
“Someone’s setting us both up,” he said quietly.
“And now we’re stuck in this together.”
--
- Writer
