Anaya stood outside the towering glass building of Raichand Enterprises, her heart pounding against her chest.
The building was massive, elegant, and intimidating — just like the man she was about to meet.
She looked down at the hospital bill clutched tightly in her hand. Her father's surgery had to be done within a week. The amount written on that paper was more than she could earn in five years.
She had no choice.
Taking a deep breath, she walked inside.
The receptionist gave her a polite smile. "Miss Anaya? Mr. Arjun Raichand is expecting you."
Of course he was.
The elevator ride to the top floor felt endless. With every passing second, her nervousness grew stronger.
When the elevator doors opened, she stepped into a luxurious hallway. At the end of it stood a large wooden door.
She knocked.
"Come in," a deep, calm voice responded.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the door.
And there he was.
Arjun Raichand.
The youngest billionaire in the city. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. Sharp jawline. Cold expression. Eyes that looked like they could read every secret hidden inside her.
He didn't smile.
He simply watched her.
"Sit," he said, gesturing toward the chair in front of his desk.
She sat down carefully.
There was silence.
Heavy. Intense.
Finally, he slid a file across the table.
"I don't like wasting time," he said calmly. "So I'll come straight to the point."
She looked at the file but didn't touch it.
"I need a wife."
Her breath stopped.
"What?"
"A contract marriage," he clarified. "One year. You will act as my wife in public. Attend events with me. Live in my house. Follow the agreement."
Her mind went blank.
"This is a joke, right?" she whispered.
"I never joke about business."
His voice was steady. Emotionless.
"Why me?" she asked.
"You need money. I need a wife to fulfill certain family conditions for inheritance and business deals. This arrangement benefits both of us."
He leaned back in his chair.
"In return, I'll pay for your father's surgery. All medical expenses. Plus an additional amount that ensures your family's future security."
Her eyes widened.
He knew.
He knew everything.
"Rule number one," he continued. "No emotions."
"Rule number two: No interference in my personal matters."
"Rule number three: After one year, we divorce. Clean. Simple."
Her heart raced wildly.
Marriage wasn't supposed to be like this.
It wasn't supposed to be a deal.
But then again… life hadn't been fair to her either.
She looked at the hospital bill again.
Her father lying weak on the hospital bed flashed before her eyes.
She swallowed.
"And if I refuse?" she asked softly.
He looked directly into her eyes.
"Then you walk out that door… and this conversation never happened."
Silence filled the room again.
This was madness.
But this was also her only chance.
Slowly, she picked up the pen placed beside the contract.
Her hands shook.
"Just one year?" she asked.
"One year," he confirmed.
No love.
No feelings.
No expectations.
She signed.
The moment her signature touched the paper, something shifted in the air.
Arjun stood up and extended his hand toward her.
"Welcome to the deal, Mrs. Raichand."
The word echoed in her ears.
Mrs. Raichand.
She had just married the coldest man in the city.
And she had no idea...
That this contract would slowly turn into something far more dangerous than business.
Something called love.
But love was never part of the agreement.
And yet… something about the way he said her new name made her heart beat differently.
Anaya slowly pulled her hand back from his.
"This is just a deal," she reminded herself silently.
Arjun pressed a button on his desk. Within seconds, a tall man in a grey suit entered.
"Rohan, arrange the legal formalities. And inform the hospital — full payment will be transferred within the hour."
Anaya's eyes widened.
"It will be done, sir," Rohan replied respectfully before leaving.
"You move into the mansion tonight," Arjun said calmly.
"Tonight?" she repeated.
"Yes. The sooner we adjust to this arrangement, the better."
Adjust.
Like she was shifting into a new office.
She wanted to ask more questions — but his expression clearly showed he wasn't used to being questioned.
"Is there… anything else I should know?" she asked carefully.
"Yes."
He walked around the desk and stopped in front of her.
"You will represent the Raichand name. There will be media attention. Business partners.
Rivals. You must remain composed."
"And if I fail?"
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"You won't."
The confidence in his voice was unsettling.
That Evening – Hospital
Before going to the mansion, Anaya rushed to the hospital.
Her father looked weak but smiled faintly when he saw her.
"You look worried," he said softly.
She forced a smile. "Everything will be fine, Papa. The surgery is confirmed."
"Money?" he asked.
"It's arranged."
She didn't explain how.
She couldn't.
Holding his hand, she whispered, "Just trust me."
As she walked out of the hospital, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
She hesitated but answered.
"You think marrying him will protect you?"
The female voice was cold.
Anaya's heart skipped. "Who is this?"
"You'll find out soon."
The call ended.
A chill ran down her spine.
Raichand Mansion – Night
The gates opened automatically as the car entered.
The mansion looked like something out of a dream — or a trap.
Arjun was already inside when she entered.
"You're late," he said without looking up from his tablet.
"I went to see my father."
He nodded once.
"Your room is upstairs."
"Our room?" she asked instinctively.
He finally looked at her.
"For appearances, yes. But you don't need to worry. I respect boundaries."
Something about that sentence made her relax slightly.
"Why don't you believe in love?" she suddenly asked.
Silence.
The air shifted.
"That question is irrelevant," he replied coldly.
"It might be irrelevant to you," she said softly, "but I'm about to spend a year of my life with you."
For a moment, his calm mask cracked.
"Love makes people weak," he said quietly. "And I don't allow weakness.
That sounded personal.
Painful.
Before she could respond, a servant entered nervously.
"Sir… Miss Meera Kapoor is here."
Anaya noticed the slight tightening of his jaw.
"Send her in."
A few seconds later, a stunning woman walked in confidently.
Her eyes scanned Anaya from head to toe.
"So she's the one," Meera said with a small smirk.
Arjun's voice turned colder. "Watch your tone."
Meera laughed softly. "I'm just surprised. After everything… you're marrying a stranger?"
"It's none of your concern."
The tension between them was obvious.
Anaya felt like she was standing in the middle of something unfinished.
Meera stepped closer.
"You should be careful," she told Anaya sweetly. "Arjun doesn't marry for love."
"I know," Anaya replied calmly.
Meera's smile faded slightly.
"Good," she said. "Because loving him would be the biggest mistake of your life."
After she left, silence filled the room.
"Was she the one who called me?" Anaya asked.
Arjun's eyes darkened. "If she contacts you again, inform me immediately."
"You didn't answer my question."
He stepped closer.
"You don't need to involve yourself in my past."
"And what if your past involves my future?"
Their eyes locked.
There was tension — not just of anger — but something deeper.
Dangerous.
Later That Night
Anaya stood on the balcony, staring at the city lights.
She had signed a contract.
But this didn't feel simple.
Her phone buzzed again.
A message.
Unknown: "Tomorrow, you'll see the real Arjun Raichand."
Her heart began racing.
She immediately walked to the study room and knocked.
"Come in," his voice came from inside.
She entered and handed him her phone.
His expression turned cold — colder than before.
"I'll handle this," he said.
"How?" she asked.
"By making sure no one dares to threaten you again."
The way he said it wasn't arrogant.
It was protective.
He walked closer.
"You're under my name now," he said quietly. "And no one touches what belongs to me."
Belongs to me.
Her breath caught.
"This is just a contract," she whispered.
"Yes," he replied.
But his voice didn't sound convincing anymore.
For a second, his hand lifted as if he wanted to touch her face.
But he stopped.
Stepped back.
"Remember the rules."
"No emotions," she said softly.
"No emotions," he confirmed.
But the silence between them felt heavy.
Charged.
Outside the mansion gates, a black car stood in the shadows.
Inside it, someone watched the mansion carefully.
And whispered,
"This marriage won't last."
And somewhere deep inside her heart…
Anaya feared that this one-year contract might change everything.
Because sometimes—
The most dangerous feelings are the ones you promise never to have.
Because sometimes, the heart remembers what the mind tries to forget.
And this time, if he let himself fall—
There would be no turning back....