It was a quiet Sunday morning, the kind that usually promised peace and relaxation. But today was far from ordinary. Today marked a turning point in my life—it was the day of my engagement to Araav Singhania.

The thought stirred a strange mix of emotions within me. This wasn’t the kind of romantic milestone little girls dream about. No butterflies in my stomach, no giddy excitement. This was a calculated step, a strategic decision. A marriage of convenience, born out of necessity rather than love or passion.

The air was heavy with anticipation as the household buzzed with preparations. Relatives chattered in the background, laughter ringing out occasionally. Yet, I stood still, gazing out of my bedroom window, lost in thought. The weight of what lay ahead settled over me like an invisible cloak.

Araav Singhania. A man I barely knew yet was about to pledge my life to. His name carried prestige, power, and a sharp intellect that matched his enigmatic aura. Ours wasn’t the story of a chance meeting or a whirlwind romance. Instead, it was the intertwining of two families' ambitions, two empires merging under the guise of matrimony.

My phone buzzed, and a quick glance at the screen revealed a message from Araav.

Araav: "Ready to become my fiancée?"

I rolled my eyes so hard they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of my head. The audacity of this man to text me something so smug, as if I had been waiting my entire life for this moment.

My fingers flew over the keyboard as I replied "Ready to realize you’re not God’s gift to women?"

Barely a second passed before his response came through "I’m not. But I’m definitely God’s gift to you today."

I snorted, shaking my head. This man could talk his way out of a locked vault. Too bad for him I wasn’t in the mood to let him win "Let me guess, the mirror told you that this morning?"

"No, your father did when he asked me to marry you." He replied

Ouch. That one stung a little, but I wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand "Don’t flatter yourself. My father just needed someone who could tolerate my silence while I tolerated your arrogance."

This time, his reply took a moment longer, but it was worth the wait.

"Good thing I have a high tolerance, then. Meet me at the venue. Try not to glare too much—I don’t want the photographers thinking you’re being held hostage."

"Don’t worry. I’ll smile just enough to make them wonder if you’re the hostage." I told him with determination

Satisfied, I tossed my phone onto the vanity and stood up. This engagement might’ve been a contract, but if Araav Raghuvanshi thought he could outwit me, he was in for a rude awakening.

I heard a soft knock at the door, breaking my thoughts. When I opened it, my make-up artist stood there, her face lit up with a cheerful smile.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," she greeted warmly as I stepped aside to let her in.

"Shall we begin, ma'am?" she asked politely, her voice filled with enthusiasm. I gave her a small nod and settled into the chair, letting her work her magic on my face.

As she finished, I slipped into the exquisite lehenga Araav had chosen—a masterpiece of delicate embroidery and vibrant hues that seemed to shimmer under the soft light.

"You look breathtaking, ma'am," she said with a grin, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Sir is going to be absolutely mesmerized."

I offered her a faint smile in return, my heart weighed down by the reality behind her words. If only the world knew beneath the layers of silk and jewelry lay a truth unspoken, a marriage that was nothing more than a carefully crafted facade of convenience.

"It’s time to head to the venue for the engagement," my father announced, his voice steady yet laced with an undertone of pride. My mother stood silently behind him, a faint smile gracing her lips, though her eyes betrayed a swirl of emotions she couldn’t quite mask.

I took a deep breath, smoothing the delicate folds of my lehenga before standing up. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on my chest, but I forced a serene expression onto my face.

As I walked toward them, my father extended his arm, a rare gesture of affection that caught me off guard. I looped my arm through his, and together we stepped out of the room, my mother trailing behind us.

The hallway was adorned with soft, warm lights, and the faint sound of music from the venue reached my ears, growing louder with each step. My heart raced not out of excitement, but from the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As we descended the grand staircase, I caught glimpses of the gathering below. Familiar faces, dazzling attire, and warm smiles greeted us, though my gaze searched for one in particular. Araav. Would he look at me with the same composed detachment we had grown accustomed to, or would there be a flicker of something deeper in his eyes?

The grand doors leading to the venue opened, revealing a sea of people and a stage bathed in golden light. The air was thick with anticipation, and all eyes turned to us.

I straightened my shoulders, donning the mask of confidence I had perfected over the years. After all, tonight wasn’t about emotions or fairytale romance. It was about appearances, expectations, and a promise forged not out of love, but necessity.

As we entered the venue, a ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, but my attention was fixed on one person,Araav. His presence commanded the room, and when our eyes finally met, there was that familiar flicker of something unreadable. He stepped forward with a confident stride, his gaze softening as he approached me.

Without a word, he extended his hand, his fingers brushing against mine in a gesture that felt almost too intimate for the moment. I placed my hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a strange shiver down my spine. It wasn’t love, I reminded myself. It couldn’t be.

We moved toward the stage, the quiet hum of conversations blending with the music as we stood before the audience, both of us waiting for the moment that would solidify this union,an engagement marked by tradition, but not by the emotions it usually carried.

The ring exchange was simple, the diamonds catching the light as Araav carefully slid the band onto my finger, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. I met his gaze, forcing a neutral expression, but something about the intensity in his eyes made my heart race.

When the ceremony was done, and the guests applauded, Araav leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "Well, Tanvi," he whispered teasingly, "I think you've almost become a Raghuvanshi now. Look at you, all decked out in this… royalty."

I shot him a mock glare, trying to ignore the surge of heat that crept up my neck. "You wish," I replied, maintaining the playful banter that had become our silent language over the years.

"Almost," he repeated, his voice low and amused. "You’ve got the look, the attitude... I can’t wait to see how you carry it in the boardroom."

My heart skipped, not at the words themselves, but at the undercurrent of something else something unspoken between us.

"You’re ridiculous," I muttered, but a part of me couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of our exchange. It was almost like we were back in the days of friendly jabs and playful rivalry, before everything had changed.

But tonight, it was different. Tonight, our banter was just that light-hearted, but beneath it lay a shared understanding that the facade we wore was only as strong as the roles we played. And for now, we both played them with precision, each one knowing the cost of the act.