~ARYA

I’ve been staring at this ceiling and its design for so long that I’ve started noticing flaws in the pattern itself. Tiny imperfections. Crooked lines. Uneven curves.
Just last evening, after breaking up with that idiot, I was unbelievably happy.
But it seems my Lord Bholenaath could not digest that happiness. Perhaps my smiling face did not please Him.
Still, Prabhu, you could have shown me a little mercy. You could have thrown me into some ordinary trouble, something I could have fought my way out of on my own. You could have done anything. Arranged a minor accident, maybe. Broken two or four bones. I would have handled it. I would have stitched myself back together.
But this?
Wasn’t this a little too much?
You had me married off.
"To the son of the Chancellor of the very institute where I teach."
When Ma’am called me out of that room, I thought she wanted to talk to me. Instead, she locked me in here like a prisoner wrapped in invisible chains.
At the very least, she could have given me my phone. But no. She’s confiscated it and is sitting somewhere like a self-appointed warden.
One thing I just can’t get out of my head is what she said.
“I’ve decided to hold your reception on the 25th of this month.”
GHANTA!
Does she think she’s my mother or something? I’ve barely listened to my own mother all these years — what makes her think I’ll suddenly obey her?
Just because I spoke politely for once, she’s acting as if she owns me, pulling the strings and expecting me to dance.
Whatever happened last night has made one thing painfully clear — all of them believe I’m married to that BKL.

I pushed myself off the bed and began pacing around the room. Lying there for so long had left a dull ache in my lower back, and the restlessness inside me wouldn’t let me stay still anyway.

I refuse to believe any of this.
Not until I find that fraudulent priest who supposedly performed this so-called wedding and hear the truth from his own mouth.

Knock knock.
I had just stepped forward to open the door when it swung open on its own. Ma’am walked in — and that woman followed right behind her.
The first question that flashed in my mind was simple:

Who the hell is this woman?
Every time I see her, she hovers around Ma’am like some loyal commander, marching ahead and behind her.
“Arya,” ma'am's voice hit my ears “, I need every detail about last night. Why you went there—who you were with, when you went—and, most importantly, when you met my son. I want the whole truth.”
I laugh. I couldn’t help it — the sound just escaped me.
And the more I laugh, the higher Ma’am’s anger seemed to rise, as if it had touched the seventh sky.
“You’re laughing, Arya?” She strode toward me and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me slightly. “This isn’t some childish game. You are married to my son!”
Her fury erupted exactly the way I had expected it to.
“Ma’am,” I addressed her gently, almost too gently.
“What exactly are you implying? That I shouldn’t have gone there? I shouldn’t have met him?”
I held her gaze, my voice steady.
“If I hadn’t gone… would your son still be a bachelor today?”
The question wasn’t innocent.
It was deliberate.
 A faint shift in her expression told me I had struck the right nerve.
Somewhere beneath her anger, she knew there was truth in what I was saying.
“Because let’s be honest,” I continued coolly, “if I hadn’t been there last night, someone else would be standing in front of you right now… as your daughter-in-law.”
Her expression faltered, shame clouding her features as her eyes dropped, the hands resting on my shoulders loosened and slipped away, as if even she no longer had the strength to hold on.

I know I probably sound rude, but I can’t help it. The ridiculous things she was doing were enough to make anyone lose their patience.
“Have you even seen the news?” she asked sharply. “Do you know what people are saying about the two of you? The kinds of stories they are making up?”
I would have loved to see those stories myself. Unfortunately, that required a phone.
“I’ll see it once you return my belongings,” I replied, keeping my tone calm. “After all, you’re the one who confiscated my phone.”
She frowned immediately. “I didn’t confiscate it. Last night you weren’t in your senses. I kept it safe so I could return it to you later.”
Later.
I almost laughed at that word.
Later… when exactly?
It had already been hours since morning. If this was her definition of later, then time clearly worked very differently in this household.
I crossed my arms and tilted my head slightly.
“Oh, really?” I said slowly. “And that ‘later’ still hasn’t arrived yet?”
For a moment, I glanced at the clock on the wall before looking back at her. “Why don’t you check the time,” I added, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “and tell me exactly when this ‘later’ of yours is supposed to come?”
Inside, my patience was already thinning.
If they really wanted me to stay calm through all of this… they were expecting a miracle.
“So you want your phone, right? Fine. I’ll leave all my work and return your precious phone first. After all, that seems to be the most important thing right now. Everything else can wait.”
She said it with clear annoyance before turning around and walking out of the room.
I watched her leave, the sound of her footsteps fading down.
But her commander is still standing here.
Right in front of me.
She hadn’t said a word while his mother was in the room.
Now, when Ma'am is gone, she looks back at me.
For a moment, our eyes met. Then she took a few slow steps toward me.
I stiffened slightly, unsure of what she was about to say.
Instead of speaking immediately, she gently placed her hand on my cheek.
The gesture caught me completely off guard.

“You’re very beautiful,” she said softly. “And even more than that… you’re adorable.” I blinked in surprise.

Her fingers lightly brushed against my cheek as if she were comforting a child rather than talking to someone who had apparently just turned her family upside down overnight.

“I saw how you scolded Aryan and Dhruv,” she continued with a small amused smile, “just so they wouldn’t call you bhabhi.” She chuckled quietly.
I didn’t know what to say.
She kept smiling while gently patting my cheek, as if the chaos surrounding us didn’t exist at all.
“ I know you’re in a very big problem right now,” she said after a moment. “But getting angry… or reacting without understanding the situation won’t solve anything.”
Her voice wasn’t mocking.
It was calm. Strangely calm.

“Talk to the right person about this,” she added softly. “After that… you might find the path yourself.”
For a second, I simply stared at her.
Right Person?? Why is she giving me advice like that turtle? Master Oogway from Kung Fu Panda?
Talking in such roundabout ways?

She stepped back. She gave me one last warm smile.
And then she walked away.
Leaving me standing there…

Slowly, I lifted my hand and placed it on the spot where she had just caressed my cheek.
The warmth of her touch still lingered there.
For a moment, I simply stood there, a strange feeling settling in my chest. It had been a long time since someone had touched me like that… so gently, so affectionately.
In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time it had happened. Not even my own mother had done something like that with me.
The thought made me pause. I quickly shook my head.

What was I even thinking?
Arya, stop overthinking everything. People say things and leave all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.

I let out a small breath, trying to push the thought away. Besides, I had much more important things to worry about.
Like finding that shameless priest who had apparently married me off in the middle of the night.
Just thinking about that man made my jaw tighten.
If I found him, I was definitely going to have a very long conversation with him.
Just as I move, another knock echoed through the room.
I frowned and turned toward the door. For a second, I simply stared at it.
Then I walked a little closer and opened it.
But…There was no one there. The hallway outside was empty.

Please don’t tell me those two monkeys are playing some kind of prank on me.
The thought had barely crossed my mind when something unexpected happened.
I was still standing in front of this room’s door, staring into the empty hallway, when suddenly— A hand appeared beside my waist.

Before I could react, that hand reached past me and grabbed the door handle, slowly pushing the door shut.
The soft click of the door closing echoed. For a split second, my body froze. Someone is standing incredibly close to me. So close that I could almost feel the warmth of his presence at my back.
My heart skipped in surprise.
I quickly turned around to see who it was. And instantly froze.

Director Ka Beta.
Yeh yaha kya kar raha hai aur yeh aaya kaha se
Aur mere itne pass kyu khada hai!?
Seriously!?
He is too close. Enough that if I leaned even an inch forward, I would probably collide with him. His hand was still resting on the door handle behind me, effectively trapping me between him and the door.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I tilted my head slightly, trying to look up at him, but the proximity made it difficult to focus. His expression was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed directly on me as if he were trying to figure something out.
Or maybe trying to confirm something.
My heart, traitor , suddenly decided this was the perfect time to start beating faster.

Seriously?

After everything that had happened this morning?
I forced myself to straighten my posture.
“Can you step back a little?” I said dryly. “Some of us would like to breathe.”
He didn’t move. Not an inch.
A flash of irritation shot through me.
Seriously? After everything, now he’s testing me with this, too?

Then he leaned slightly closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine, and said softly, almost teasingly, “After ruining my life… how can you even expect to take a moment of peace for yourself?”
“Excuse me?” I hissed, my hands clenching at my sides.
“You heard me,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Before I could react, both his hands shot out and grabbed my arms, pulling me closer to him.

I struggled, twisting and pushing, but the more I tried to get free, the more his grip seemed to tighten. It was maddening.

“Stop it!” I snapped, glaring up at him. “You’re acting like life belongs to you alone!”
“It was mine alone,” he replied coldly. “Until last night… when you decided to marry me.”
Before I could react, he pulled me along with him.
“Hey—!” I tried to protest, but he ignored me completely.
What kind of nonsense is he spouting? Does he even understand what he’s saying?

The next moment, he pushed me down onto the couch. I landed awkwardly, staring up at him in disbelief.
Who the fuck he think he is!
“So no,” he continued calmly, looking down at me. “I can’t say my life belongs only to me anymore… because now you have entered it.”
Didn’t he understand what I was trying to say?
He dragged a chair from the corner of the room, turned it around, and sat on it the wrong way, facing me directly. His arms were draped over the top rail, and his chin rested lazily on them.
Someone, please! Teach this man how to sit on a chair first.
“From morning till now,” he said, leaning back slightly, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “we haven’t had a proper conversation even once… have we?”
I stared at him.
At this moment, only one word was forming on the tip of my tongue.
chutiya admi.
No.
That wasn’t strong enough.
Akhand chutiya admi.
But of course, I kept that thought safely locked inside my head.
For now.
He deliberately pushed me in the morning, and not once did this suar apologise. He humiliated me, showed off his so-called status through his clothes, as if that wasn’t enough, he just picked me up and threw me aside like I was some kind of toy.
After all that, he has the nerve to say
‘We haven’t had a proper conversation even once’
Fuck his conversation!!!
Isse meri jhutti bhi na baat kare!
“What did you put in my drink?”
I feel his gaze burn into the side of my face.
Hold on—does he think I’m that desperate to ruin my own life? That I’d drug this idiot, haul him to a temple, and marry this so-called nawabzada?
Where does his brain even come up with this stuff? This morning, he was busy building monuments to his own greatness—‘well-built man,’ my foot. What’s the use of all those muscles if his eyes don’t work right?
I turn to face him.“ I didn’t put anything in your drink back then… but who knows about the future?”
“Fine, let’s say you didn’t approach me,” he said.
Did he just ignore the last six words I said?
My smile twitched.
Because it felt like this man had just ignored me.
AND I DON’T LIKE BEING IGNORED.

“I want to know what happened between us last night,” he pressed, his chair scraping forward as he leaned closer.

If I kick one of the chair legs, he’ll probably fall right at my feet… and honestly, that would be very satisfying.
And what does he even mean by “what happened between us last night”?
Don’t tell me he’s already convinced that we’re married. Because I refuse to believe that until I talk to that fake priest who supposedly got us married.

“I don’t even know what happened between us last night,” I said.
“How am I supposed to believe that you’re not lying to me?”
“Do you even remember what happened last night?” I shot back immediately.
And judging by the expression on his face, I could bet anything—even this Bitch doesn’t remember a thing.
“Alright, fine. Let’s put all this aside and talk about something where you can actually give me a straight answer,” he said.
I am giving him a straight answer—how much straighter does he want it?
He stood up from his chair, pulled out his phone, glanced at it and then tossed it behind him.
It landed right on the bed.
“It’s around 11:20 right now, and exactly seventy- one hours from now, my Bebe will be here.”
Bebe? Doesn’t that mean grandmother? So he’s Punjabi? He doesn’t look Punjabi from any angle…
“And I want you to pretend like a daughter-in-law in front of her, Which you obviously are.”
What? Is he insane? So he expects me to play the role of his wife in front of his grandmother.
I rose from the couch and marched straight toward him.
“I hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not putting on any kind of performance in front of your Bebe.”
I stood right in front of him and crossed my arms.
What does he think I am, some kind of hired actress?
“Don’t make me force you, Arya.” A slow smile curved on his lips as he dipped his head, bringing himself down to my level.
What is he trying to prove by bending down like that—that I’m short?
Ohhh Wow Such a BITCH he is….
I’m 5’7”. I used to be the tallest in my class, and now this guy, who practically just walked into my life yesterday, is commenting on my height?
I’m not short. You’re just abnormally tall—that’s the problem.
And what does he even mean by forcing me? Try making me do something without my consent—I dare you.
I won’t just break your arrogance you fucker, I’ll make sure even your height bows down.
“You’re going to force me? How? I’d like to see that,” I said, a smile playing on my lips.
Because honestly, I wanted to see what he could do to me.
“You’re a professor at AIE, aren’t you?” he said—not like a question, but like a statement.
“Yeah, I am. What, are you going to get me fired?” I shot back.

To be honest, I wasn’t even surprised. If the director’s son doesn’t flaunt his father’s power, then who will?

“Oh no, why would I do something that low? Besides, getting you fired isn’t even under my control.” He chuckled under his breath and strolled toward the window—the very one he had climbed in through.

“I’m not going to get you fired…” he began. “…I’ll make you qu—and—”
“—quit my job and make my life miserable,” I cut him off, stepping toward him as I continued his sentence.
“You’ll push me so far that I’ll have no choice but to leave AIE. And once I resign, you’ll make sure I’m so ruined that I won’t get a job anywhere else…”
“Until I’m forced to come back to you.”I stopped right in front of him, saying everything he had been about to say.
“I’d have fun doing all that, Arya,” he admitted, almost lazily. “But I don’t need to. I have a much easier way.”
My expression faltered, doubt slipping in.
Easier way? What is he talking about?
“You haven’t checked the news, have you?” he asked.
As if I could—his mother still hasn’t given my phone back.
“Step outside, and the media will be all over you,” he said coolly.
“They’ll call you Mrs Rathore. Ask how long you’ve been together… why you made such a decision… whether you even thought about your family before doing this.” His fingers rested lightly against his chin, his tone disturbingly casual.
He’s not wrong.
Last night’s incident destroyed my carefully built plan over the past four to five years.

“They’ll keep irritating you until you feel like you’re going insane. Wherever you go, they’ll follow. You’ll be left with no choice but to leave the university. And even then, it won’t stop—they’ll show up at your house and tear your private life apart.” He says it all, his eyes fixed on mine, not breaking eye contact even for a second.
“If you’re going to threaten me, do it in your own name, not through the media.”
The temperature in the room drops at my sudden outburst.
“Do you have nothing left of your own? And besides, this is just a two-day issue. People will talk for a couple of days and then forget, like it never even happened.”
“Do you really think people will talk about this for just two days and then forget it ever happened?” He scoffs. “What makes you think you married an ordinary man, Mrs Arya Siddharth Singh Rathore?” Sarcasm seeps into his voice.
I bit my lower lip to hold myself from any type of curses.
That's right, he’s no ordinary man. In fact, his entire family is well-known.
His parents run a prestigious university and own a conglomerate operating across multiple sectors, which they manage with him and his uncle. AND IF anything goes wrong, I could be in serious trouble.

WHAT THE FUCK I DRANK LAST NIGHT!
That, out of all the men, I ended up choosing him. It could’ve been anyone, but no, I got this arrogant nawabzada.
It’s not the marriage that bothers me as much as he does. Every time I see him, he’s busy asserting his dominance.
“Six months.”
He paused for a moment, then grabbed my wrist and pulled me sharply toward him.
“Just act like my wife for six months. After that, we’ll get divorced—you go your way, and I’ll go mine.”
“What nonsense! I don’t even acknowledge this marriage, so pretending to be your wife isn’t even a question.” I jerked his hand off my wrist and looked at him with anger.
A smirk curls on his lips as he faces me, placing both his hands on the windowsill on either side, leaving me trapped. “It doesn’t matter whether you acknowledge it or not? for the world, you’re already my wife.”

The moonlight falls straight across his face, giving it a soft, almost ethereal glow. The features I couldn’t make out before are now so close that I can see everything, its beauty and even the scars etched into it.
In his eyes, I can see my own reflection. Do I ever look this beautiful in a mirror?
I don’t think so.
Right beside his nose, there’s a very small, barely visible mole, so subtle that no one would notice it from a distance.
But have I lost my mind, staring at his face like this? Men like him have come and gone in my life… and he’ll be no different, just another one among them. No… the men who were part of my life had standards. But him? Does he even have any? His world begins and ends with himself—someone like that could never have a place in my life.

“I couldn’t care less about what the world says or thinks.” I scowl.
His eyes trail over my face before falling to the ground, a faint laugh escaping him. He steps closer, his breath near my ear as he murmurs,
“Too bad… because from now on, what the world thinks of you will matter.”
I shoved him away, his words cutting deeper than I expected. I hated to admit it, but somewhere, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
I had planned to live my life in silence, hidden from everything, but things were turning out the complete opposite. If this kept going, the truth would come out sooner or later—no, that cannot happen. I have to do something, or everything will collapse… and I won’t let that happen.

“If I pretend to be your wife, what do I get in return?” The question slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. It’s not like I don’t have other ways to deal with this situation… but I also have to choose the path that’s safest. The easier the path, the easier the destination.
“That depends on what you want,” he says, casually slipping his hand into his pant pocket.
“Relax, I’m not going to ask for your company’s papers,” I taunt him
“If you want the company’s papers, I gladly give them to you,” he replies with a faint smile, “but you’d need the capability to run it.”
“True, I may not be capable of running your company… but ruining it? That’s something I can definitely do.”
The muscle in his jaw flexes.
“Can we talk about what you really want?” he says, tossing his hair back in one swift motion.
That gesture… It reminds me of the boys back in tenth grade.
“Who knows… maybe what I want is something you can’t even give me,” I say, my tone deliberately lazy, making his brows rise towards his hairline.
“You’re my wife. I can at least manage that much for you,” he says, his voice controlled, though the irritation slips through.
Irritation? Is it because I haven’t told him yet, and instead keep hinting that he might not be capable of giving me what I want?
Nice… his irritation and anger are fucking good for my health.
“And what if I demand something big? What if you’re not capable of giving it to me?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he comes closer to my face.
“I have a big thing too. If you want, I can give it to you right now.”
The smile on my face twitches, as I couldn’t stop myself for killing this piece of shit.
I only said that to mess with him… and now he’s turning it against me.
If he weren't the Director's son, I would’ve seriously lost it on him.

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