Anaya Sharma never thought one phone call could change her life.
She was standing in the small balcony of her rented flat, Jaipur's evening air brushing her face, when her phone rang.
"Anaya… Papa ko hospital le aaye hain," her mother said, voice shaking.
"Unka BP bohot high ho gaya hai."
Anaya's heart skipped.
"Main aa rahi hoon, Maa."
She grabbed her bag and rushed out. Inside her mind, only one thought was screaming—
Paise.
Hospital bills. Medicines. Tests.
And her bank balance?
Barely enough for a week.
At the hospital, the smell of antiseptic made her dizzy. Her father lay on the bed, weak but smiling when he saw her.
"Main theek hoon beta," he said softly.
But Anaya knew the truth.
Doctor ne clearly bol diya tha—treatment expensive hoga.
Outside the ward, her mother held her hand.
"Anaya, kuch arrange ho sakta hai kya?" she asked, helpless.
Anaya looked down.
She had no answer.
That night, she sat alone on her bed, laptop open, eyes tired. She applied for loans, jobs, anything. Rejections came faster than hope.
Then—
a message popped up on her screen.
Unknown Number:
"Miss Anaya Sharma, I have a proposal for you. One that can solve all your financial problems."
Her breath stopped.
She typed back with trembling fingers.
Anaya: Who is this?
Reply came instantly.
Unknown Number:
"Meet me tomorrow. 10 AM. Malhotra Group Office."
Malhotra Group.
Everyone knew that name.
One of India's biggest business empires.
"This has to be a joke," she whispered.
But something inside her said—
Go.
Next morning, Anaya stood in front of a tall glass building. The Malhotra Group logo shone like power itself.
She adjusted her simple kurti, suddenly feeling out of place.
At the reception, the girl smiled politely.
"Mr. Aarav Malhotra is expecting you."
Expecting me?
Her stomach twisted.
She was led into a large office. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Dark furniture. Everything screamed money.
And then she saw him.
Aarav Malhotra.
Tall. Sharp features. Cold eyes. Black suit that fit him perfectly.
He looked up from his laptop.
"Sit," he said. One word. No emotion.
Anaya sat.
He studied her for a moment, like she was a file, not a person.
"You need money," he said calmly.
She stiffened.
"Yes… but how do you—"
"I know everything about you," he interrupted.
"Your father's condition. Your salary. Your desperation."
Her fists clenched.
"Then why call me?"
Aarav leaned back.
"Because you are exactly what I need."
She swallowed.
"For what?"
He stood up and walked towards her. Every step felt heavy.
"I want to marry you."
Silence.
Anaya's mind went blank.
"M-marry?" she stammered.
"You don't even know me!"
"I don't need to," he replied coldly.
"It will be a contract marriage. Six months."
She stared at him, shocked.
"No feelings. No relationship," he continued.
"Just husband and wife on paper and in public."
"Why me?" she asked quietly.
"My board of directors want a married CEO," he said.
"And you need money."
He placed a file on the table.
"Twenty lakhs. Medical expenses included. Your family will never struggle again."
Her heart pounded.
This was insane. Wrong. Dangerous.
Yet… her father's tired face flashed in her mind.
"And after six months?" she asked.
"We divorce," he said.
"Clean and simple."
She stood up, shaking her head.
"I can't do this."
Aarav looked at her calmly.
"Think again, Anaya," he said softly.
"This contract can save your family."
She walked out without replying, tears burning her eyes.
But that night…
she couldn't sleep.
Bills. Hospital. Her parents' silent prayers.
At 3 AM, her phone buzzed.
Aarav:
Tomorrow, 10 AM. This offer ends.
Anaya closed her eyes.
Sometimes, life doesn't give choices.
It gives ultimatums.
Next morning, she stood outside his office again.
This time… she walked in.
"I agree," she said, voice steady but heart trembling.
"But on my terms too."
For the first time, Aarav Malhotra smiled.
And that smile told her one thing—
This contract would change her life forever.