Anaya stared at the papers lying on the glass table.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she read the bold words printed at the top.
CONTRACT MARRIAGE AGREEMENT.
Her throat went dry.
She slowly lifted her eyes to look at the man sitting across from her.
Aarav Malhotra.
CEO of Malhotra Industries.
Cold. Powerful. Untouchable.
He sat comfortably in his chair, his expensive suit perfectly pressed, his sharp eyes unreadable. There was no warmth in his gaze—only calculation.
"This marriage will last one year," he said calmly, his voice steady and emotionless.
Anaya felt her heart sink.
"There will be no love," he continued. "No physical intimacy, unless required for public appearances."
She clenched her hands in her lap, digging her nails into her palms.
"After one year," he added without hesitation, "we divorce."
The words felt like a death sentence.
Anaya swallowed hard. "Why… why me?" she asked softly.
Aarav leaned back slightly. "You are suitable. You have no connections to my world. And you need money."
Her face paled.
She hated how easily he had read her situation.
Her father's face flashed before her eyes—pale, weak, lying on the hospital bed with tubes connected to his body. The doctor's words echoed in her ears.
Immediate surgery is required.
Arrange the money as soon as possible.
"And if I refuse?" Anaya finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aarav's eyes darkened.
"Then your father's surgery won't happen."
Her breath caught.
Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"So this is blackmail," she said, forcing herself to sound strong.
"Call it a deal," Aarav replied coldly. "I provide the money. You provide the marriage."
The room fell silent.
Anaya looked down at the papers again. The contract was clear. Every clause was carefully written. There was no place for emotions. No place for love.
This wasn't a marriage.
It was a transaction.
Her hands shook as she picked up the pen lying beside the documents.
"Will my family be safe?" she asked.
"Yes," Aarav answered immediately. "They will never be involved."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
This was wrong.
But she had no choice.
Slowly, Anaya signed her name on the dotted line.
The moment she did, Aarav picked up the papers and stood up.
"Welcome, Mrs. Malhotra," he said flatly.
The words sent a strange chill through her body.
Mrs. Malhotra.
She had just sold her freedom.
Later that night, Anaya stood alone in her small room, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
Was this really her life now?
A contract wife.
A stranger's possession.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Be ready tomorrow. We're registering the marriage.
Her heart raced.
Everything was happening too fast.
She lay down on her bed, clutching the thin blanket around her shoulders.
This marriage was supposed to be fake.
So why did her chest hurt so much?
And why did she feel that this one-year contract would change her life forever?