Anaya stood silently in front of the mirror.
The red wedding dress felt unbearably heavy on her fragile body, as if it carried the weight of all the decisions she was never allowed to make. Her fingers trembled as she adjusted the edge of her dupatta, but no matter how much she tried, she could not steady her shaking hands.
The girl staring back at her did not look like a bride.
She looked like someone who had already lost.
Her eyes were dull, filled with silent fear and helplessness. The glow that brides were supposed to have was missing. Instead, there was only resignation.
"This marriage is final," her aunt's sharp voice came from behind her.
"There is no turning back now."
Anaya did not respond.
What could she say?
She had already begged.
She had already cried.
She had already said no — countless times.
No one listened.
Her parents had passed away years ago, leaving her in the care of relatives who treated her more like a burden than family. When the proposal from the Malhotra family came, no one cared about her opinion.
She was marrying a man she had never met.
A man whose name alone made people nervous.
Arjun Malhotra.
A powerful businessman.
A billionaire CEO.
Cold. Proud. Ruthless.
That was how everyone described him.
"He is rich," her aunt had said the previous night.
"He will give you a good life. Do not embarrass us after marriage."
Tears blurred Anaya's vision, but she wiped them away quickly.
Crying would change nothing.
The wedding hall was grand, decorated with flowers and lights. Soft music played in the background, but to Anaya, everything felt distant and unreal.
She walked toward the mandap with slow, hesitant steps, her head lowered.
Whispers followed her.
"She is so lucky."
"Marrying into the Malhotra family."
"Her life is set now."
If only they knew the truth.
She sat beside the groom's empty seat, her heart pounding wildly. Minutes passed, each second stretching painfully.
Then suddenly, the hall fell silent.
A tall man entered.
He wore a black sherwani that made his sharp features stand out even more. His presence alone commanded attention. His expression was cold, unreadable, almost bored.
His eyes scanned the room before stopping on her.
Arjun Malhotra.
When his gaze met hers, even for a brief second, Anaya's heart sank.
There was no warmth in his eyes.
No curiosity.
Only distance.
He sat beside her without a word.
The priest began the rituals, chanting mantras that echoed around them, but Anaya's mind felt empty.
"Do you accept this marriage?" the priest asked.
Anaya froze.
Her fingers clenched the fabric of her lehenga. Her throat felt dry, and her chest tightened.
Before she could speak, a cold voice cut through the silence.
"Yes."
Anaya turned to Arjun in shock.
He did not even look at her.
The priest turned back to her.
"Do you accept this marriage?"
Anaya swallowed hard.
"Yes," she whispered.
With that single word, her fate was sealed.
After the rituals ended, Arjun stood up immediately.
"This marriage is only a formality," he said in a low voice meant only for her.
"Do not expect love or care from me."
Anaya's chest tightened.
"I understand," she replied softly.
Arjun looked at her again, his eyes sharp and warning.
"This is a deal," he continued.
"Stay within your limits, and there will be no problems."
Anaya nodded.
Inside her heart, fear quietly took root.
That night, she entered the massive Malhotra mansion.
Everything was expensive. Cold. Unfamiliar.
A servant showed her to a beautifully furnished room.
"This is your room, ma'am."
Anaya hesitated.
"Where is… my husband?"
The servant lowered her gaze.
"Sir sleeps in a separate room."
Anaya sat on the bed, removing her jewelry slowly as silence surrounded her.
This was her new life.
A life without love.
Without warmth.
As she lay down, one thought echoed in her mind.
She feared the real pain had not even begun.
:A Cold Deal
Morning sunlight streamed through the large windows, but Anaya woke up feeling cold.
For a moment, she forgot where she was.
Then reality crashed down on her.
She was married.
To a stranger.
In a house that did not feel like home.
She got ready quietly and stepped out of the room. The mansion was silent, almost intimidating.
A maid guided her to the dining table.
Moments later, footsteps echoed.
Arjun entered, dressed in a crisp formal suit. He looked every bit the powerful CEO people feared.
He sat across from her, opening his tablet without looking up.
"Eat," he said flatly.
Anaya nodded and picked up her spoon.
After a few minutes, Arjun finally spoke.
"We need to set rules."
She stiffened.
"This marriage exists only on paper," he said calmly.
"In public, you will act like my wife. In private, we stay out of each other's lives."
Anaya looked down.
"I understand."
"You will not interfere in my work or personal matters," he continued.
"And I will provide you with everything you need."
She hesitated.
"Why did you agree to this marriage?"
Arjun paused for the first time.
"Because it benefits both families," he replied coldly.
"Nothing more."
His words hurt more than she expected.
He stood up.
"I'm leaving for work. Do not try to cross boundaries."
As he walked away, Anaya realized something painful.
This was not a marriage.
It was a contract.
And she was trapped inside it.