The clock struck midnight. Outside, the Delhi monsoon was at its peak, lightning illuminating the dark, mahogany walls of the Raichand mansion. Inside the study, the silence was even more terrifying than the storm.
Ishani stood trembling, her hands clutching the ends of her wet dupatta. Across from her, sitting behind a massive glass desk, was Aarav Raichand.
He looked like a king from an ancient, dark era. His suit was worth more than her father's entire house, and his eyes—cold, sharp, and calculating—were fixed on her like a predator watching its prey.
"Sign it, Ishani," Aarav said. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. "Before the sun rises, your brother will be behind bars for a crime he didn't commit. Or... you can sign this and save him."
Ishani looked at the thick document on the table. In bold letters, it read: MARRIAGE CONTRACT.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't even know you! My family has never done anything to you!"
Aarav stood up slowly. He was tall, looming over her like a dark shadow. He walked around the desk, the sound of his leather shoes clicking against the marble floor echoing in the silent room. He stopped inches away from her. The scent of expensive cologne and sandalwood clouded her senses.
He reached out, his cold fingers tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to look into his dark eyes.
"You don't know me, Ishani? But I know you. I've known your family for ten years. Every night I spent in the cold, every tear my mother shed... it was because of your father's betrayal."
He leaned down, his breath ghosting against her ear. "You are not a bride to me. You are the interest on a debt that is long overdue."
He shoved a gold-plated pen into her hand. "Sign. Now."
With tears blurring her vision and her heart heavy with a sense of doom, Ishani pressed the pen to the paper. She signed her life away.
As soon as she finished, Aarav grabbed the papers and smirked. It wasn't a smile of joy; it was a smile of victory.
"Welcome to your new life, Mrs. Raichand," he whispered cruelly. "Don't bother unpacking. In this house, you won't be a guest. You'll be a prisoner."
He turned his back on her, dismissing her like a piece of furniture. Ishani collapsed to her knees, the thunder outside masking her sob.
The game had just begun.