The rain started the same night my life was sold.
I still remember the smell of wet earth outside our small house, the flickering tube light in the living room, and my father's trembling hands.
"Sit down, Aanya," he said, not looking at me.
His voice was weak. Broken.
I stood there instead.
"What happened?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
The door opened.
And then he walked in.
Tall. Dressed in black. Calm. Controlled.
Power didn't shout from him.
It whispered.
Two men followed behind him, but they stayed near the door like shadows. He didn't look around our house with disgust like rich people usually do.
He looked straight at me.
My heart skipped.
Not because he was handsome.
But because his eyes were terrifyingly unreadable.
"Mr. Sharma," he said smoothly, his deep voice filling the room, "your time is over."
My father's breathing became uneven.
"I—I just need more time," Papa begged. I had never seen him beg before.
The stranger's gaze didn't move from me.
"You borrowed fifty million," he said calmly. "You signed the contract."
Fifty million?
My head spun.
I turned to Papa. "What is he talking about?"
Silence.
The stranger finally shifted his eyes to my father.
"You cannot pay the money," he continued, "so we move to the alternative."
Alternative?
My stomach dropped.
My father fell to his knees.
And that's when I understood.
"No," I whispered.
The man in black walked closer.
Too close.
He stopped right in front of me.
I could feel the faint scent of his cologne. Dark. Expensive.
"You will marry me," he said.
Just like that.
No emotion.
No hesitation.
My mind went blank.
"What?" I stepped back. "This is insane."
"It is legal," he replied calmly. "Signed agreement."
I looked at my father in disbelief.
"You signed something like this?"
Tears streamed down his face.
"They threatened us," he said. "I had no choice."
The stranger tilted his head slightly.
"You have a choice," he corrected.
I looked at him.
"If you refuse," he said softly, "your father goes to prison tomorrow morning. Fraud charges. Tax crimes. I have the evidence."
My breath stopped.
"You're lying."
He pulled out a file and placed it on the table.
Official documents.
Stamped.
Signed.
Real.
I felt the ground disappear under my feet.
"You have until midnight to decide," he said.
"And if I say yes?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
His eyes darkened slightly.
"Then you become my wife."
The word felt like a cage closing around me.
"And my father?"
"Debt cleared. Safe. Protected."
The rain outside grew heavier.
My father sobbed quietly.
I looked at the man who had just destroyed my life.
"Why me?" I demanded.
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes.
Something dangerous.
Something almost… personal.
"That," he said softly, "is not your concern."
He turned and walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he paused.
Without looking back, he added—
"Midnight, Aanya."
"If you are not ready… I will decide for you."
The door closed.
The rain kept falling.
And I realized something terrifying.
He wasn't forcing me.
He didn't need to.
Because I already knew…
I would say yes.