The next morning, sunlight poured through the hospital window, gentle and warm, completely opposite to the cold storm inside Aisha's heart.
She sat beside her father's bed, holding his hand carefully. He looked asleep, breathing slowly. His surgery was scheduled for the next day — fully paid by Arjun.
Paid by the contract she had just signed.
Aisha stared at her father's peaceful face and whispered,
"I'm getting married today, Papa… but not in the way we dreamed."
Her father had always imagined giving her a beautiful wedding — flowers, guests, music, blessings.
Instead…
Her wedding would have no rituals.
No family.
No happiness.
Nothing except signatures and a cold contract.
Aisha forced a smile she didn't feel.
"You'll get well soon. That's all that matters."
A nurse entered with a soft knock.
"Miss Aisha… someone has come to pick you up."
Aisha stood slowly.
Her stomach tightened.
She knew who it was.
Inside the Black Car
A black luxury car waited outside the hospital. Mr. Rai stood beside it respectfully.
"Good morning, Miss Aisha," he said. "Sir has arranged everything."
Everything.
Including her future.
Aisha nodded and sat inside the car silently. The leather seat felt too soft, too costly — like it wasn't meant for her.
The farther the car drove, the more reality sank in.
She was going to the Malhotra Mansion…
not as a guest,
not as an employee,
but as a wife.
A wife with no rights.
Her heart tightened.
The Mansion Again
When the car stopped, Mr. Rai guided her inside. The servants stood lined up near the entrance, bowing politely.
"Welcome, Ma'am," they greeted.
Ma'am.
The word felt heavy on her shoulders.
"You will stay in the west wing," Mr. Rai said, leading her down a long hallway. "This room is prepared for you."
The door opened to a beautiful bedroom — pastel colors, soft curtains, stylish furniture. It looked like something out of a rich bride's dream.
But Aisha didn't feel like a bride.
She didn't feel anything except nervousness.
"You may freshen up," Mr. Rai said. "Sir asked you to come to the study once you're ready."
Of course.
The study.
Where everything cold and official began.
Aisha placed her small bag on the bed and slowly washed her face, brushed her hair, and changed into a simple white salwar suit. She didn't put on makeup; her face already felt heavy enough.
When she finally walked toward the study, her hands trembled.
Arjun's Command
She knocked softly.
"Come in," Arjun's voice responded, calm and deep.
Aisha stepped inside.
He was standing near the large window, wearing a charcoal grey suit. Morning sunlight touched his face, but even the light couldn't soften him.
He turned to her slowly.
His eyes scanned her once — not in admiration, but in silent assessment.
"You're ready," he said.
Aisha nodded.
Arjun held a small stack of papers.
"This is the marriage registration form. We will sign it today. No ceremony."
She swallowed.
"Okay."
"You look pale. If you faint, it will delay our schedule," he said in his usual cold tone.
Aisha blinked, unsure if that was concern or irritation.
Probably irritation.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
Arjun stepped closer, keeping a professional distance.
"Good. The registrar will be here in twenty minutes. Until then—"
His phone buzzed.
He frowned and answered.
"Yes?… What? The shipment was delayed?… Fix it. I don't want excuses."
His voice grew sharp, dripping with authority.
Aisha took a small step back.
Even his anger felt controlled… dangerous.
When he ended the call, he turned to find her standing too far from him.
"Why are you standing like the floor will break?" he asked flatly.
"I… I don't want to disturb you."
"You are not disturbing me," he said without emotion. "This is a mutual agreement, not charity."
But his tone still made her feel small.
He walked to the desk, picked up a red velvet box, and placed it in her hands.
Aisha looked at him in confusion.
"What is this?"
"The wedding symbol," Arjun said simply. "We won't have a ceremony, but I need you to look presentable. The media might see us later."
Aisha slowly opened the box.
Inside lay a simple yet elegant diamond ring.
Her heart skipped.
"It's… beautiful."
"It's practical," Arjun corrected. "Wear it."
Her fingers shook as she slid the ring on.
Arjun watched her silently.
Not kindly.
Not romantically.
Just… observing.
"Sit," he instructed. "The registrar will be here soon."
Aisha sat down shakily.
Arjun lowered himself into the chair beside her. His sleeve brushed hers for a moment, and she froze.
Not because of attraction.
Because of fear.
Fear of the unknown.
Fear of the man sitting beside her.
Fear of the life that was about to start.
The Registrar Arrives
A soft knock came.
"Sir, the marriage registrar is here," Mr. Rai announced.
"Send him in," Arjun replied.
The registrar entered with his assistant, carrying official documents.
"Mr. Arjun Malhotra and Miss Aisha Sharma?" he asked.
Arjun nodded confidently.
Aisha nodded quietly.
"Please sign here," the registrar said.
Arjun signed first — bold, confident strokes.
Then the pen was handed to Aisha.
Her fingers trembled.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
She thought of her father.
His surgery.
His hope.
His life.
Then she signed.
The pen left a thin line of ink behind…
a line that sealed her fate.
"Congratulations," the registrar said. "You are legally married."
Aisha's breath caught.
She looked at Arjun.
He didn't smile.
He didn't say anything.
He simply nodded and dismissed the registrar like it was a business deal.
The Heartless Truth
After everyone left, silence filled the room.
Aisha stood up slowly, feeling her knees weaken.
Arjun closed the file and looked at her.
"From this moment," he said, "our contract starts. I will handle your father's surgery. You will fulfill your part of the agreement."
Aisha nodded, tears burning her eyes.
Arjun's gaze paused on her watery eyes.
"Don't cry in front of me," he said coldly. "I don't have patience for emotional scenes."
A tear rolled down her cheek anyway.
Arjun looked away.
Without another word, he walked toward the door.
Just before leaving, he said,
"You're my wife on paper, Aisha…
but don't expect me to act like your husband."
The door closed.
Aisha stood alone, holding the diamond ring with trembling fingers, realizing—
She had become a bride who didn't smile.
A wife who didn't belong.
And a woman living in a stranger's cold world.
But deep in her chest, something whispered:
This was only the beginning.