She took a deep breath before pushing open Clay’s door and stepping inside.
Nandini’s message still echoed in her head:
Be here at 9:00 PM sharp. Mr. Oberoi expects you.
She had arrived ten minutes early.
“Staff room,” Nandini instructed without looking up. “Change into your uniform.”
Anaya frowned but obeyed. She slipped into the black-and-white uniform and stood in front of the mirror.
She looked… normal.
But was anything about her life normal anymore?
Fifty lakhs of debt.
A contract marriage proposal.
Reyansh Oberoi.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—
—and froze.
His reflection appeared behind her.
Black slacks. Black shirt. Sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Spectacles resting low on his sharp nose. His dark eyes studied her through the mirror like she was a file he was reviewing.
Her breath hitched.
“Why are you in here?” she asked, hating how small her voice sounded.
Instead of answering, he turned and shut the door.
Click.
Locked.
Her pulse spiked.
“So,” he said calmly, stepping closer. “What did you decide?”
She swallowed, forcing herself to meet his gaze in the mirror.
“Fine… I’ll marry you.”
He tilted his head slightly. “What? I didn’t hear you.”
She clenched her fists. “I will marry you.”
He walked forward until he was right behind her. Too close. She could smell his cologne—expensive, dark, intoxicating.
He towered over her.
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Good.”
Her knees felt weak. What the hell was wrong with her?
“The wedding will be in three days.”
She spun around. “WHAT?! Three days?! That’s impossible!”
“We’re not having a traditional wedding,” he said smoothly. “Everything is already arranged. My team works efficiently.”
She stared at him. “What about my things? My apartment? My job—?”
“All taken care of,” he replied. “Your lease has been handled. Your belongings will be moved tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened. “You can’t just—”
“And that little dog of yours,” he continued, unbothered. “It will be transferred to my residence as well.”
“EXCUSE ME?!” she snapped. “She has a name! It’s Miki! And you have no right to decide that! I will decide where she stays!”
His gaze sharpened, but instead of anger, something amused flickered there.
“Relax,” he said calmly. “She’ll have a bigger garden than you’ve ever seen.”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is?”
“The point is you don’t get to control every part of my life just because I signed some stupid deal!”
He stepped closer again, voice dropping.
“You haven’t signed anything yet.”
She froze.
“And I’m not controlling your life,” he added coolly. “I’m restructuring it.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s literally the same thing!”
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
“You’ll move into the Oberoi mansion tomorrow night,” he continued. “You’ll stop working here immediately. Public announcement will be made after the wedding. Until then, this stays confidential.”
She crossed her arms defensively. “And what exactly do you expect from me?”
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
“Attend events with me. Smile when required. Avoid scandals. No unnecessary drama. No media interaction without clearance.”
“And…?” she asked suspiciously.
“And,” he said evenly, “this is a marriage on paper. Nothing more. You’ll have your own room. Your own space. I have no interest in complicating things.”
Her heart did something strange at that. Relief? Or… something else?
“Good,” she muttered. “Because I don’t either.”
His eyes lingered on her face a second too long.
“We’ll draft the contract tonight,” he said. “You’ll review it with a lawyer tomorrow. Sign if you agree.”
“And if I don’t?”
He looked at her steadily.
“Then we proceed legally with the debt recovery.”
Silence fell between them.
This wasn’t a romance.
It was a transaction.
“Three days,” she whispered to herself.
“Three days,” he confirmed.
He unlocked the door and stepped aside.
“Be ready, Mrs. Oberoi.”
Her stomach flipped.
She walked out without replying—but her world had already begun shifting under her feet.
She had barely taken two steps into the corridor when his voice stopped her.
“Oh, and Anaya?”
She turned slowly.
He was leaning against the doorframe now, expression unreadable.
“In front of my family,” he said calmly, “you will behave like my real wife.”
Her brows pulled together. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” he continued, voice steady, “you’ll act comfortable. Supportive. Convincing. They’ve been pressuring me to settle down for years. I’d prefer they stop.”
“So this is also part of your image management?” she asked dryly.
“This part,” he corrected, “is peace management.”
She crossed her arms. “And what exactly does ‘real wife’ behavior include, Mr. Oberoi?”
“No arguing in front of them. No visible hostility. Basic affection when required.” He paused. “Nothing inappropriate. Just believable.”
Her stomach tightened.
“You’re adding new clauses without warning.”
“I’m clarifying expectations,” he replied smoothly.
She studied him for a moment.
“And if I mess up?” she asked.
“You won’t,” he said confidently. “You’re smarter than that.”
There was something in the way he said it—almost like he trusted her.
Almost.
He straightened. “Get back to work for tonight. Tomorrow, things change.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving her standing there—no longer just an employee.
But a future Mrs. Oberoi.
Morning came too fast.
The knock on her apartment door was firm. Controlled. Familiar.
Anaya opened it—
—and there he was.
Reyansh Oberoi. In a charcoal suit this time, sleeves unrolled, watch gleaming under the dim hallway light. Behind him stood two movers and a man she recognized vaguely from the club — Rehman.
Before she could say anything—
“Woof! Woof! Woof!”
Miki shot forward like a tiny missile.
“MIKI!” Anaya gasped.
The little puppy barked furiously at Reyansh, jumping at his legs like he was a full-blown criminal mastermind invading enemy territory.
Reyansh looked down at the furious fluff ball.
“She’s smaller than my shoe,” he said flatly.
“She’s protective!” Anaya snapped, quickly scooping Miki into her arms. “And she doesn’t like strangers.”
Miki continued growling dramatically.
Reyansh stepped inside without asking.
Miki barked louder.
He raised one brow. “Impressive courage.”
“She thinks you’re a threat,” Anaya muttered while trying to calm her down. “Which… fair.”
Rehman coughed discreetly behind them.
Reyansh turned slightly. “Start packing the bedroom first. Handle everything carefully.”
“Yes, sir,” Rehman replied.
Anaya noticed the respectful tone — but there was no fear in it. Just loyalty.
Reyansh walked further inside, scanning the small apartment.
Plain walls. Minimal furniture. Stacks of second-hand books. A study table crammed in the corner.
His eyes paused there for a second longer than necessary.
Then he turned to her.
“We’re going to my house today,” he said.
Her stomach flipped. “Today?”
“Yes. I live with my parents.”
She blinked. “You never mentioned that.”
“It wasn’t relevant until now.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly.
“So start putting on the act from the moment we reach there.”
She frowned. “Already?”
“Yes. They’re traditional. Curious. Observant.” His eyes held hers. “No visible tension between us.”
She shifted Miki in her arms. “And if they ask how we met?”
“I’ll handle the narrative,” he said calmly. “You just agree.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It’s efficient.”
She sighed.
“And don’t worry,” he added, nodding toward Rehman. “He knows about the contract. He won’t say anything.”
Anaya looked at Rehman suspiciously.
Rehman offered a polite nod. “Congratulations in advance, bhabhi.”
Her face went red instantly. “Please don’t start.”
Reyansh’s lips twitched slightly.
Miki, who had been glaring at him seconds ago, suddenly leaned forward in Anaya’s arms and sniffed his hand.
Reyansh instinctively lifted his knuckles.
The tiny traitor licked them.
Anaya stared in betrayal. “Oh, so now you like him?”
Reyansh looked down at the puppy, mildly amused. “She has good instincts after all.”
“Don’t flatter her,” Anaya muttered.
He gently scratched under Miki’s chin. The puppy wagged her tail shamelessly.
“Bribed already,” Anaya said.
Reyansh looked at her then — properly.
“You should start packing essentials,” he said more quietly. “Clothes. Personal things. Anything important.”
She hesitated.
This was real.
She was actually leaving.
Reyansh noticed.
“It’s temporary,” he said, tone softer but still controlled. “One and a half years. Not forever.”
She nodded slowly.
“Anaya,” he added before she turned away.
She looked at him.
“When we reach my house,” he said steadily, “stand beside me. Not behind.”
Her brows furrowed slightly.
“I don’t want them thinking I forced you.”
The words surprised her.
For a second, she just looked at him.
Then she nodded once.
“Fine.”
And as the movers began dismantling her small, familiar world—
Reyansh Oberoi stood in the middle of it,
calm,
calculated,
and somehow already fitting into it far too easily.
The last box was loaded into the boot.
Her entire life reduced to labeled cartons.
Reyansh shut the trunk with a soft thud. “Get in.”
The drive was quieter than she expected.
Anaya sat stiffly in the passenger seat, clutching Miki.
For exactly three minutes.
Because the next thing she knew—
Miki wriggled out of her arms, stepped across the console like she owned the car, and plopped herself straight onto Reyansh’s lap.
“Excuse me?!” Anaya whispered harshly. “Traitor!”
Reyansh didn’t even look surprised. One hand stayed on the steering wheel while the other absentmindedly rested on the puppy’s back.
“She has good taste,” he said calmly.
“She has no loyalty.”
Miki happily licked his wrist.
Anaya crossed her arms and looked out the window dramatically. “Unbelievable.”
Reyansh’s mouth curved faintly.
—
Forty minutes later, the car slowed.
The iron gates ahead were massive, black, and lined with security cameras. They opened automatically.
Anaya’s breath caught.
The driveway stretched endlessly, bordered by trimmed hedges and tall palms. The estate was enormous. Glass, stone, balconies, private guards.
An infinity pool shimmered to the side. Fountain lights glowed even in daylight.
It looked less like a house and more like a private empire.
The car came to a smooth halt.
Her heart started pounding.
His parents were already standing outside.
Waiting.
“Well,” Reyansh murmured, stepping out. “Showtime.”
Anaya got out slowly, trying not to look overwhelmed.
Before she could prepare herself—
His fingers slipped between hers.
Interlaced.
Firm.
Warm.
Her breath hitched.
“Relax,” he said under his breath without looking at her. “You’re gripping my hand like you’re walking to execution.”
“Maybe I am,” she whispered back.
He almost smiled.
They walked forward together.
His mother was elegant — silk saree, composed expression, sharp eyes that missed nothing.
His father stood tall, authoritative, observing.
“Ma, Dad,” Reyansh said smoothly. “This is Anaya.”
Anaya forced a polite smile. “Namaste.”
His mother’s gaze flicked to their joined hands.
Then to Anaya’s simple clothes.
Then back to Reyansh.
“You didn’t tell us it was this serious,” she said calmly.
Reyansh squeezed Anaya’s hand slightly.
“It became serious,” he replied evenly.
His father stepped forward. “And the sudden wedding?”
“We didn’t want unnecessary drama,” Reyansh answered. “This is our decision.”
Our.
Anaya glanced at him.
His mother’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at Anaya.
“What do you do, beta?” she asked.
Anaya hesitated a fraction of a second.
Reyansh’s thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles — subtle reminder.
“I was working,” Anaya replied carefully. “But I plan to continue my studies.”
His father nodded slowly.
“That’s good,” he said. “Education matters.”
Anaya felt a small wave of relief.
Miki suddenly barked from Reyansh’s arm — he had picked her up at some point without her noticing.
His mother’s eyebrows lifted. “You brought a dog?”
“She’s family,” Reyansh said simply.
Anaya blinked.
His mother studied him.
Then, surprisingly, she smiled faintly.
“Come inside,” she said. “We have much to discuss.”
As they walked toward the mansion doors, Reyansh leaned closer to Anaya.
“See?” he murmured. “Not that hard.”
She looked at their intertwined fingers.
“This is just the beginning,” she muttered.
He glanced sideways at her.
“Exactly.”
They had barely stepped inside when the doors closed behind them with a soft, heavy thud.
The interior was just as overwhelming as the outside — marble floors, a sweeping staircase, chandeliers that probably cost more than her entire apartment.
Anaya felt painfully aware of her simple clothes.
Reyansh didn’t loosen his grip on her hand.
His mother turned to a house staff member. “Prepare Reyansh’s room.”
Anaya’s steps faltered slightly.
Reyansh noticed.
He leaned closer, his voice barely audible. “We’ll need to share a bedroom.”
Her head snapped toward him, eyes wide.
“What?” she whispered.
“My parents are traditional,” he continued calmly, as if discussing weather. “Newly married couple. Separate rooms would raise questions.”
Her heart started racing. “You said—”
“I said nothing complicated,” he interrupted quietly. “That still stands.”
She swallowed. “Define ‘nothing complicated.’”
“One bed. Two sides,” he said evenly. “I work late. You sleep early. Minimal interaction.”
Her cheeks warmed. “And if they check?”
“They won’t,” he replied confidently. “But the room must look occupied by both of us.”
Her mind spiraled.
This was escalating too fast.
He squeezed her fingers lightly.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m not interested in crossing boundaries. This is optics.”
She studied his face.
He looked composed. Controlled. Almost bored.
Meanwhile, her pulse was doing marathons.
His father turned slightly. “Reyansh.”
“Yes, Dad?”
“You’ve made a bold decision.”
“I’m aware.”
His mother’s eyes shifted to Anaya again. “Beta, are you comfortable here?”
The question caught her off guard.
Before she could hesitate too long, Reyansh gently pulled her a fraction closer.
“Yes, Aunty,” Anaya replied softly. “I am.”
His mother’s lips curved faintly.
“Good,” she said. “Because this is your home now.”
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Home.
A staff member approached. “Sir, your room is ready.”
Reyansh nodded.
He turned to Anaya. “Come.”
As they walked toward the staircase, he leaned close again.
“Rule number one,” he whispered. “In front of them, stay near me.”
She looked up at him.
“Rule number two?”
A faint smirk touched his lips.
“Don’t look this nervous. It makes me look like a villain.”
She almost scoffed.
“Maybe because you are,” she muttered under her breath.
He heard it.
And for a split second—
He smiled.
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