His Conjugal Rights

Prologue

Smack!

The slap echoed through the corridor as her hand stung and her chest heaved with each breath. Too furious to notice the small crowd gathering outside the Board Room of The Shenoy Group, she unleashed her anger like a hungry lioness.

"You think you own the world because you sit on a golden throne? Who do you think you are, Shenoy?" Her voice spat venom as her tiny fists clenched his collar, trying to shake sense into him. "You think you are surrounded by fools? That you can go about recklessly doing stupid stuff without having to bear the consequences?"

"Um, excuse me, folks. I believe my wife has something on her mind. Rishabh, didn't I ask you to handle my schedule carefully? You've ticked her off. Hey, honey, I'll scrap all my plans, OK. We're having that promised honeymoon, alright? No need to get all riled up. Just take it easy!"

The boardroom echoed with guffaws as men silently left to give the 'newly married' couple some privacy.

"Her love language tends to be a bit physical," Rudransh chuckled lightly, assisting the final attendee out before firmly locking the door behind them.

"What was that?"

"You have the audacity to ask me?" She was irritated. Her question hung in the air, tinged with an anticipation of his reaction. She knew him well enough to anticipate his response to her abrupt entrance into an important takeover meeting. Yet, his reaction caught her off guard.

Rudransh Shenoy, the perennially cunning and cold businessman, found himself rather amused—surprised even—when he received an unexpected slap from her, but he wasn't affected, at least not in the way she expected.

The room, once occupied by serious discussions and strategic negotiations, now held an intriguing tension between the two.

"This man is a demon in disguise!"

Sonica was utterly astounded that she was once head over heels in love with this monster. How could she? Was she simply blind, clueless, or both, for not spotting that glaring red flag sooner?

She had already made a fool of herself four years ago when she had seen him buried deep inside his secretary in the same boardroom. And four years later, on the same day, she made a fool of herself again when she was confronting him with his deceptions and betrayals.

Only this time he would be a fool to underestimate her—to think, she would simply cry her eyes out and surrender quietly after listening to him tell her how he had never loved her or wanted to marry her and that he had been forced to become engaged to her because of his father.

"If he wants to play, who am I to deny a good game?" She let out an exhale of frustration.

"Who are you—" She yelled only to be interrupted by his infuriating calmness.

"I'm Rudransh Shenoy, your husband," he smirked, casually brushing aside a strand of her hair despite her seething anger. As if that weren't enough, his enormous arm encircled her, to draw her closer.

"And I am determined to assert my rights soon. Where shall we consummate our marriage, Wifey? Oh, never mind, I already know the perfect place!" He kissed her gently on the forehead.

"It would be in our penthouse," he kissed her left cheek. "In the star gazig room under the millions of stars." He kissed her right cheek. "Just the way you love it! They would be witnesses to our union...to our becoming one."

Years ago, he hadn't appreciated her bronze complexion, waist-length hair, and slightly rounded figure as much as he did at that moment. Sonica didn't fit the typical definition of beauty, but her personality and mind had always fascinated him. He admired her intelligence and independence — and only he knew how much he regretted ever letting her go.

Just when he was about to capture his lips with his own, another thunderous slap stung his cheek.

"Don't you dare play your forged reality on me, Rudransh Shenoy! I have seen how ugly you are behind this charming face. You're ruthless, heartless, and colder than a corpse." Sonica's voice cracked the veneer of the opulent Board Room. And if she wasn't looking right through his soul, she might have missed his faint shivers.

"I'd be dead before I'll ever become your wife! Which brings me here? What the hell is this?"

Papers scattered like autumn leaves across the oval mahogany desk. Rudransh didn't need to pore over them; he was already well aware of the content. In fact, he could narrate every single syllable in his heart. Hours of exhaustive discussions with his legal team had prepared him for this moment and what was about to come.

He was privy to every detail. Each facet was errorless, and planned after meticulous research. Ms. Sonica Singh Sikawar, the woman he was crazy in love with, was no longer an unmarried 23-year-old journalism student. She had transformed into Mrs. Sonica Shenoy, his lawfully wedded wife, as of December 25th, 2022.

The flurry of papers told a tale that Rudransh had foreseen. He knew Sonica was frustrated and desperately wanted answers. How had this union transpired without her knowing? He'd decided he'd answer every single question when the time came...

"I'm sorry." he mumbled, lowering his head.

"I don't need your apologies." She choked, stumbling back.

"That what is it? Sonica, how many apologies will suffice? What do you want me to do? I was young, uncertain, and unprepared. I never intended to hurt you. I was—I was lost! I am sorry. I've never regretted anything the way I regret doing it to us! But we can just move beyond it. I know we can erase—"

"How you were moaning like an animal while slamming in her on this very table? About how our engagement ring shone in the chandelier's light when you claimed her to be your 'favorite w***e'?"

The memory burned in Sonica's mind—the hurt, the moment when trust shattered. His apologies felt weak against the pain she felt. She stood there, silent and tense. The room, where they once shared love, now burned with poisoned of his betrayal.

"I...I..." His words stumbled, trying to cover up the memory. But each one only made Sonica's anger grow. The pain she tried to hide was now out in the open again.

All because of him! Her so-called Ex-fiance!

Four years of the hurt, hidden before, was exposed, making time stop for them. The chandelier, once a symbol of their love, now lit up with another broken trust. His explanations couldn't change what he'd done and what he was doing to her.

"I can't undo what I did." Rudransh exhaled, running a hand through his dark locks. "But I can't let you go either."

Sonica glared at him with anger and pain as she stood there with a shadow of their ruined dreams. Her silence was louder than his excuses.

"Forgive me," Rudransh crumbled to his knees. "I'll spend my life atoning, but I... I can't name myself to someone else." He sobbed, looking up—dead in her eyes.

To his surprise, she leaned.

"So, you'd trap me in a wedding that never happened? How'd you manage to pull this off? How could you do this to me? I don't love you. I don't wanna marry you. How could you keep hurting me and claim it's love?" She taunted with a humorless smile.

"I told you we should do it the right way. You never listened. I had to do it—"

"So, you'd forge my signature and register a wedding that never took place?" Sonica wanted to smack him again.

"Those aren't fake signatures. I had someone make you sign that. You just didn't know that it was our wedding certificate."

"Oh, burn in hell, Shenoy" she spat, her eyes blazing with righteous fury. "I'd rather set myself on fire. I despise you, Shenoy, and that's why I'm here...to tell you! Back off. Stop this charade. I'm no wife of yours, and your forged signature can't rewrite reality. And if you're still bent upon doing it," She took an intimidating step closure. "Then, I'm ready to fight back!"

Rudransh was immovable for a whole minute and Sonica could bet it was the longest minute of her life.

But then the silence crackled, and he got back on his feet, towering over her with at least a foot. The air charged with a raw, primal energy. His signature smug smirk taunted her rage, fueled by the inferno within, and took over his grimness as he reached for the forged document.

The bold "Wedding Certificate" flashed under the chandelier light to remind her of a gilded cage for her stolen life! The cage that had just struck her dreams!

"But love," he drawled with mock affection, "it's all here, black and white. Your signature on our Marriage Certificate, a sweet surrender to our destiny till death do us part." He brandished the document before her.

"And you can't deny this even when it's your truth. You are my wife on papers...for the world. A Shenoy! You can't move an inch out of this country without claiming my title. Your destiny is wrapped around this document and you can't do anything but accept it. The sooner the better!"

Sonica scoffed. "And you say you love me? Shameless! This? I know everything is a joke for you!" She gestured at the paper, a fraudulent feather in his peacock crown. "Who do you think would fall for that? We both know this is your wounded ego, Rudransh, masquerading as ink. I never signed my soul away."

Her gaze, a diamond stiletto, dissected his facade. The air, thick with jasmine and secrets, crackled with impending scandal. His admiration for her strength stirred an unusual feeling within him. Despite the tension, there was an undercurrent of something else—an unsettling desire.

He wanted to burn in her fire and he'd go to any length to ignite those flames.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I know, I have told you countless times. I. love. You." The passion in his words sent a jolt of electricity through her body. The chandelier cast menacing shadows with a million glittering lies on the velvet couch where the deed, a gilded lie, lay open.

"You can scream to the world that it isn't true that we never happened but it'd never be a reality. Go, challenge it before the court. File for a divorce, but even then you'd have to accept that you'd become mine. Even for a brief interval of time, you were Mrs. Rudransh Shenoy!"

Tears managed to escape out of the corner of her eyes as Sonica pondered over his claims. Each flourish of his signature was a whispered promise in the darkness. He was right. It was a cruel echo of the truth: he, the billionaire prince, had stolen her name, not her heart. She, the rebel artist with fire in her veins, was no gilded trophy for his arm.

This wasn't a marriage, it was a heist. He was the thief who had snatched her identity, but her spirit refused to be caged. The question hung heavy, electric in the silence: would the truth ignite a scandal that would consume them all, or would Sonica rise from the ashes of his deception, stronger and fiercer than ever?