The Raichand Corporation headquarters stood like a glass fortress in the heart of Mumbai's financial district. A symbol of power, money, and influence—it had always belonged to Aarav. But today, it felt like enemy ground.
As the black SUV pulled up to the entrance, Aarav adjusted his tie with precision, every movement practiced, calm. Beside him, Anaya was silent but alert, dressed in a crisp navy-blue blazer and slacks—poised, dignified, unshakable.
"You're not required to attend this," Aarav said, stealing a glance at her.
"I know," she replied. "But I'm not here because I have to be."
Aarav looked at her, the corner of his mouth twitching into a subtle smile. "You're here because we're a team."
Anaya nodded. "And because you don't fight snakes alone."
They stepped out of the car and into the war zone.
---
Inside the top-floor boardroom, the air was thick with tension. Eleven men and women sat around the polished oak table—members of the board, each with their own agendas, their own loyalties.
At the head of the table stood Dev Raichand.
He was in his late forties, handsome in a severe kind of way, with silver at his temples and eyes that glinted like glass—cold, unreadable. He wore a tailored charcoal suit and a smug expression.
"Aarav," he greeted, feigning politeness. "I was wondering if you'd show. Most people don't walk willingly into their own execution."
"I'm not most people," Aarav said, pulling out a chair at the far end of the table. Anaya remained standing beside him like a sentinel.
Dev's gaze flicked to her. "Ah, the accidental bride. I watched your interview. Quite... poetic. But this is business, darling. Emotions don't belong here."
"Neither does corruption," Anaya replied evenly.
One of the board members, Mr. Khandelwal, cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"
Dev stood. "We are gathered to vote on the motion to remove Aarav Raichand as CEO of Raichand Corporation due to recent instability, negative media attention, and allegations of internal mismanagement."
He turned to the others. "If this company is to survive, we need leadership that can protect its legacy."
He smiled. "I nominate myself."
There were murmurs across the room. Aarav remained still, watching. Measuring. Waiting.
Mr. Khandelwal raised a hand. "Before the vote, Mr. Aarav, do you have any final statement to make?"
Aarav stood, unhurried.
"I've never pretended to be perfect," he began. "But I've protected this company with everything I have. I've made difficult decisions, yes. But I have never—never—betrayed this board, my employees, or my name."
He turned to Dev.
"Can you say the same?"
Dev gave a condescending chuckle. "I don't have to. That's not what this vote is about."
Aarav's eyes glinted. "You're right. It's not."
He turned to Anaya and gave her a slight nod.
She stepped forward, placing a tablet in front of Mr. Khandelwal. "If we're voting on who deserves to lead, then everyone here deserves to see this."
The screen lit up with a recording.
It showed Dev Raichand, sitting in a private office in Singapore, speaking to two unfamiliar men.
"If Aarav Raichand finds out what we moved through the shell accounts, we're finished. We need the board on our side. Once I'm in control, we can shift the funds quietly—no questions asked."
The room erupted in gasps and angry voices.
Dev's expression twisted into rage. "That recording is fake!"
Aarav crossed his arms. "That's not what the digital forensic team says."
One board member, Mrs. Fernandez, narrowed her eyes. "You stole from the company?"
"No!" Dev snapped. "This is a setup. He's just desperate—"
"Desperate men don't come armed with evidence," Aarav said calmly.
Silence stretched as the weight of the truth sank in.
Mr. Khandelwal stood. "I believe we've seen enough."
He raised his hand. "All in favor of removing Mr. Aarav Raichand from his position?"
Only two hands rose—Dev's and one reluctant ally.
"All in favor of keeping Mr. Aarav Raichand as CEO?"
Nine hands lifted.
Dev's face turned pale.
"It's over," Aarav said quietly. "Security will escort you out."
Dev didn't go quietly. He pointed a trembling finger at Anaya. "You! You think you've won? You're just a pawn. When he tires of you, he'll throw you away like the rest."
But Anaya didn't flinch.
"I'm not the one who got played," she said coldly. "You lost because you never understood loyalty. Or love."
---
Later, in Aarav's office, the victory felt almost surreal.
Kavya burst in with two glasses of champagne. "To staying in power," she said, handing one to Aarav.
He smiled. "To exposing liars."
"And to brave wives," Kavya added, raising a brow at Anaya.
Aarav looked at Anaya. "To partners," he corrected, his eyes lingering on her.
They clinked glasses.
---
As the night deepened and Kavya left, Anaya and Aarav remained in his office. He leaned back in his chair, watching her.
"You saved my company," he said. "You saved me."
Anaya folded her arms. "That's what wives do."
He stood, walking toward her, serious now.
"About that..."
She tilted her head. "What?"
He pulled out a folded document from his drawer. She recognized it instantly—the contract. The marriage contract.
He tore it in half.
Then again.
Then dropped the pieces into the trash.
"No more terms," he said. "No more pretending. No more timelines."
Anaya stared at the torn papers, then up at him.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I want this marriage to be real," he said. "Not accidental. Not forced. I want to wake up every day and know you chose me, just like I'm choosing you. Not for six months. For life."
Her breath caught.
"I never signed up for forever," she whispered.
He stepped closer. "Neither did I. But it found us anyway."
She looked into his eyes, and everything she'd felt in the last few weeks surged to the surface—every argument, every shared glance, every stolen touch. Every moment that said this wasn't just a transaction. This was a story.
Her story.
"I'm scared," she said honestly.
"So am I," he replied. "But I'd rather be scared with you than safe without you."
And then, without ceremony, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
---
That night, they didn't sleep in separate rooms. The unspoken wall between them crumbled. They didn't talk about Meera or Dev or contracts. They simply lay in each other's arms, bodies entwined, hearts aligned.
The storm had passed—for now.
But neither of them knew that far away, in a quiet office, a woman watched the interview Anaya had given just days ago. Her eyes glinted with knowledge.
She picked up the phone.
"She's smarter than I expected," she said.
A voice on the other end responded.
"Should we proceed with the plan?"
The woman's lips curled into a cold smile.
"Yes. It's time we reminded Anaya Raichand that her story doesn't belong to her alone."