Arjun
The sound of my fatherâs words followed me relentlessly, clinging to my thoughts like a storm cloud as I drove to work. âWeâre meeting the Kapoor family on Sunday,â he had said, his tone brooking no argument. âTheir eldest daughter, Ananya Kapoor, is a perfect match for you.â
My grip tightened on the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening as the phrase repeated itself in my mind. The eldest daughter. Of course, it had to be the eldest.
A voice whispered in my head, dark and sharp. Just like Rohan.
The thought was enough to send a bitter taste to the back of my throat. My brother, Rohan Malhotra, the golden child who had once been the shining star of our family, had abandoned everythingâour fatherâs expectations, the family business, and me. He had walked away to chase his dreams, leaving me to pick up the pieces.
I sighed heavily, the sound filling the quiet of the car. I loved Rohan, despite everything. How could I not? He was my brother. But that love didnât erase the ache of betrayal, the resentment that had taken root when he left.
I clenched the steering wheel tighter. The voice returned, relentless. What if sheâs like him? Careless. Selfish. Irresponsible.
I imagined Ananya Kapoor as someone who had grown up in a cocoon of affection, pampered and protected, never having to face the harsh realities of life. Someone who would crumble under the weight of responsibility or expect others to fix her mistakes.
âPerfect match,â I muttered bitterly under my breath, a grim smile tugging at my lips. My fatherâs version of perfection was a cruel joke.
By the time I reached Aurum Dynamics, my mind was a tangled mess of frustration and bitterness. I parked the car and sat there for a moment, taking a deep breath before stepping out. The familiar sight of the towering glass building brought me a measure of calm. Work was my sanctuary, the one place where I was in control.
Inside my office, Karan Verma was already waiting. He lounged on the couch with a coffee cup in hand, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to my simmering mood.
âMorning, boss,â he greeted with a grin. âYou look like someone just told you your entire stock portfolio tanked overnight.â
âWorse,â I muttered, tossing my bag onto the desk and sinking into my chair. âMy father wants me to get married.â
Karanâs grin widened. âThe great Arjun Malhotra, finally meeting his match? I never thought Iâd see the day.â
âDonât start,â I snapped, rubbing my temples. âHeâs already arranged a meeting with the Kapoor family on Sunday. Apparently, their eldest daughter, Ananya Kapoor, is supposed to be my âperfect match.ââ
Karan raised an eyebrow, his grin fading slightly. âThe eldest?â
âYes,â I said, exasperated. âYou know how I feel about that.â
âRohan,â Karan said softly, and the name hung in the air between us.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. âItâs not just about him leaving, Karan. Itâs about what it left me with. Iâve been carrying responsibilities that werenât supposed to be mine, cleaning up his mess, trying to live up to expectations that werenât even meant for me. And now my father wants me to marry someone whoâs probably just like him.â
âCareless, selfish, irresponsible,â Karan finished for me, nodding as if heâd heard the speech a thousand times before.
I scoffed, crossing my arms. âExactly.â
Karan was silent for a moment, studying me with a thoughtful expression. Then, with a shrug, he said, âSo, tell your father no. Say you donât want to get married.â
âIâve said it a hundred times,â I replied, frustration lacing my tone. âHe doesnât care. He thinks marriage will âsettle me downâ or some nonsense like that.â
Karan smirked. âTo be fair, you could use some settling down.â
I glared at him, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. âOkay, okay, bad joke. But seriously, if you donât want this, then donât do it.â
âYou think I havenât tried that?â I said, throwing my hands in the air. âHeâs already set the meeting. And now I canât even think of a decent excuse to get out of it. What am I supposed to do? Say I have a sudden business trip?â
âToo obvious,â Karan said, shaking his head. He leaned back on the couch, his expression thoughtful. âWhat about pretending to be sick? Food poisoning is always a classic.â
I rolled my eyes. âMy father would drag me to the meeting in a stretcher if he had to.â
Karan chuckled. âFair point. Okay, how about thisâwhat if we find some dirt on Ananya Kapoor? Something that makes her look like a terrible match? Your father might call the whole thing off.â
I raised an eyebrow. âYou want me to sabotage this?â
Karan shrugged. âWhy not? If youâre that desperate to avoid itâ¦â
I sighed, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the desk. âI donât know, Karan. I just⦠I canât do this. I donât want to get married. And I especially donât want to marry someone whoâs probably going to be another Rohan.â
âNot every eldest child is like Rohan,â Karan said gently, his tone unusually serious. âMaybe Ananya Kapoor is different. Maybe sheâs the kind of person who surprises you.â
I shook my head, my jaw tightening. âI donât want surprises. I want out of this mess.â
Karan sighed, leaning back against the couch. âAlright, boss. Iâll think of something. But you might want to consider that this whole situation isnât as black and white as you think.â
I didnât reply, but all I could see was the storm looming on the horizon. A storm called Sunday.
Karan smirked, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. âFamous last words, my friend. But mark my words: you might end up eating them when you meet her.â
I turned my chair toward the window, staring out at the city skyline. The whisper in my head returned, this time softer, almost taunting. What if Karanâs right? What if sheâs not what you think?
I closed my eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. Sunday was days away, but it already felt like a storm on the horizon. One way or another, I was walking straight into it.
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