I am now married to the most charming yet ruthless business tycoon a man whose name alone commands power, wealth, and unwavering dominance in the corporate world ARAAV RAGHUVANSHI. To the outside world, we are the perfect couple, a match made in heaven, two forces merging to create an empire stronger than ever. But behind closed doors, beneath the carefully crafted smiles and the seamless act we put on for the world, lies the cold, hard truth this marriage is nothing more than a facade.

A mere business arrangement. A calculated truce designed for mutual benefit.

Love? That was never meant for me. I have learned, perhaps the hard way, that love is nothing but an illusion, a beautifully wrapped lie that people chase in hopes of finding happiness. But I know better. I have seen the way love crumbles, the way promises turn into ashes, and the way hearts shatter beyond repair. And so, I convinced myself that a life without love is a life without pain. That no attachments mean no betrayals. That a heart never given is a heart never broken.

And yet, a small part of me one I bury deep inside still feels the sting of envy. A quiet, lingering ache that whispers to me in the silence. A part of me will always be jealous of those who get to experience love, who get to hold hands without hesitation, who get to share soft glances filled with warmth, who get to promise forever without the fear of it falling apart. I could never have that. I could never allow myself that. Because love was never mine to claim.

So, to the world, I wear my mask well. I portray the image of a woman who is untouchable, a force to be reckoned with a cold, dominant woman who is no longer interested in love, or at least that’s what I tell myself to make it easier. I tell myself that I have moved past such foolish desires, that I no longer crave the kind of love that makes one weak.

But in the deepest corners of my soul, I know the truth.

I am nothing but shattered pieces, fragments of a heart I no longer recognize, waiting perhaps foolishly for someone to piece them back together.

My thoughts came to a screeching halt as the car rolled to a stop. Turning my head, I found Araav already watching me, his gaze steady and unreadable.

"What?" I asked, arching a brow.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you were planning to get out, or if I should start charging rent for the extra time you're spending in my car."

I let out a dramatic gasp, matching his smirk. "Wow, how generous of you. Should I also pay for the air I’m breathing?

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. Then, without a word, he stepped out of the car and walked around to my side. Like a true gentleman, he pulled the door open and extended his hand toward me.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing my hand in his, the warmth of his touch sending a strange flutter through me. With effortless ease, he helped me out, his grip firm yet gentle.

As I straightened, my gaze lifted, and the sight before me stole my breath away.

The mansion stood tall and proud, an architectural marvel bathed in the soft glow of golden lights. Its grand façade was a perfect blend of classic elegance and modern sophistication, with towering columns framing the entrance and intricate carvings adorning the massive double doors. The vast driveway, lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and regal fountains, led to a grand staircase that ascended toward the main entrance.

Large, arched windows reflected the star-studded sky, their glass panes shimmering like diamonds. The high ceilings and intricate detailing on the walls spoke of luxury, while the soft, ambient lighting cast a warm glow over the entire estate.

Everything about the place screamed wealth, power, and prestige. Yet, beneath its grandeur, there was something undeniably inviting about it a silent promise of untold stories and secrets hidden within its magnificent walls.

He led me into the mansion as my eyes absorbed every intricate detail. A group of maids welcomed us, their presence almost rehearsed. My heart scoffed—typical Araav Raghuvanshi.

But as I stepped inside, an unsettling feeling settled in my chest. The mansion was breathtaking, yet the sheer number of maids bustling around made me uncomfortable. I had never liked being surrounded by too many people, especially not when they were monitoring my every move like silent spectators. The idea of being under constant human surveillance, 24/7, felt suffocating. I preferred solitude, peace,the freedom to do things on my own. But this wasn’t my house, and voicing my discomfort felt pointless. So, I swallowed my unease and remained silent.

Araav, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil, led me through the grand hallways. Soon, we arrived at a kitchen that looked nothing short of a five-star restaurant. Gleaming countertops, rows of perfectly organized spices, and the soft hum of activity filled the space. Standing at the center was a woman who radiated warmth and authority.

“This is Rukumani didi, our head chef,” Araav introduced.

She smiled at me, her kind eyes studying me with quiet curiosity. I returned the gesture with a meek nod, not really in the mood for small talk. Thankfully, she didn’t push for conversation, and Araav wasted no time in leading me away from the kitchen.

We walked in silence through the corridors until we reached a massive wooden door. He pushed it open, and I stepped inside, my breath hitching slightly as I took in the surroundings.

The chamber was nothing short of stunning, draped in deep, rich shades of charcoal and navy, perfectly aligning with my taste. The dim, ambient lighting cast a moody yet elegant glow over the space. A king-sized bed, adorned with dark silk sheets, sat against the farthest wall, flanked by sleek bedside lamps. The walls had intricate paneling, adding a touch of old-world charm, while the ceiling boasted a modern chandelier that exuded understated luxury. The entire room felt intimate, sophisticated, and oddly… comforting.

“This is our room,” Araav said casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

I nodded absently, still admiring the décor, but then his words fully registered. My eyes snapped to his.

“Our room?” I echoed in confusion.

He merely nodded.

I blinked, my lips pressing into a firm line. “I need a separate room.” My tone left no room for argument.

Araav sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tanvi, listen,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he were trying to reason with a stubborn child. “The maids here are always around, and if they notice us staying in separate rooms, rumors will start. They might assume something is wrong between us, and that’s the last thing we need.”

I hated to admit it, but he had a point. The last thing I wanted was to become the subject of unnecessary gossip in a house that wasn’t even mine. So, with a reluctant sigh, I gave him a small nod of agreement.

"Fine," I conceded. "Then you take the couch while I take the bed."

Araav’s brows shot up, his lips parting in disbelief. He gave me a look that screamed, Are you serious? But I simply crossed my arms and met his gaze with unwavering determination.

He exhaled sharply, muttering something incoherent under his breath before grumbling, "Fine." His annoyance was evident, but he didn’t argue further.

A victorious smirk threatened to tug at my lips, but I masked it quickly. One battle won.

I hesitated for a moment before calling out, “Araav.”

He turned toward me, his gaze questioning yet patient.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, my voice laced with hesitation.

He gave me a simple nod, urging me to continue.

Taking a deep breath, I finally voiced what had been bothering me. “Can we reduce the number of maids around, or at least put them on alternate shifts? I don’t like being constantly surrounded.”

To my surprise, he didn’t question it. No raised eyebrows, no demands for an explanation.

“Okay,” he said easily, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all.

I blinked. I had expected at least some resistance, maybe a logical argument or a dismissive remark. But his immediate agreement caught me off guard.

“I’ll arrange for alternate shifts,” he added before turning and exiting the room, leaving me staring after him, still trying to process how effortlessly he had granted my request.

ARAAV'S POV

I arrived home at midnight, deliberately giving her space and time to adjust. I didn’t want to overwhelm her not yet. The mansion was silent, the dim hallway lights casting elongated shadows along the walls. As I stepped into my chamber, the room was shrouded in darkness.

She must be asleep.

Moving with practiced ease, I unbuttoned my watch and placed it on the nightstand. Just as I was about to head to the washroom to change into something comfortable, a voice cut through the silence, halting me in my tracks.

"Araav Raghuvanshi, I need to talk."

I turned, startled, my gaze landing on the silhouette sitting upright on the bed. Something about the way she said my full name stirred something deep within me. There was a sharpness in her tone, a warning laced with authority. I had thought she was asleep, but clearly, I was mistaken.

Arching a brow, I gave her a nod, signaling for her to continue.

"What time is it, Mr.?" she asked, her voice carrying an edge.

An annoyance stirred inside me . So, we’re using formalities now?

"12:15," I replied nonchalantly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this the time you come home? What do you think of yourself? You’re not the 'Most Eligible Bachelor' anymore, roaming around as you please. I want you home before 10, and there’s no room for argument. Most importantly, I don’t want you having any secret affairs."

I bit back a chuckle at her fiery tone. Ah, there she was my wife, in all her fierce, demanding glory.

Stepping closer, I met her gaze with unwavering confidence. "Mrs. Raghuvanshi, let me make one thing very clear there will never be anyone else in my life after you. From the moment I married you, my world revolves around you." My voice dropped slightly, the sincerity behind my words unmistakable.

She stared at me, momentarily stunned, as if she hadn’t expected such an immediate agreement.

"And as for your orders, ma’am," I continued, my lips twitching into an amused smirk, "consider them noted and implemented. Anything else?"

She parted her lips, then closed them again, at a loss for words. Finally, she mouthed a small ‘no,’ still seemingly in disbelief.

"Good," I said, turning toward the washroom. "Then let me refresh. Good night, Mrs. Raghuvanshi."

With a satisfied smile, I strolled inside, shutting the door behind me.

I was a man of dominance, someone who dictated his own rules in every aspect of life. But for her? I would willingly bend.

She was mine my wife, my woman. And whatever she demanded, she would have.

If she wanted me home before 10, I’d be there.

If she wanted to command my every move, I’d follow.

Because I loved her. And love had the power to make even the strongest men surrender.

If she didn’t like being surrounded by so many maids, then I would become her servant.

I had appointed extra staff to make her life easier, to ensure she lived like a queen with everything she could possibly need at her fingertips. But if that made her uncomfortable, then I would change things.

Without hesitation, I decided to shift the maids to my mother’s house. She had always wanted more staff, and this way, everyone would be satisfied. My mother would get the extra help she desired, and Tanvi would finally have the space and solitude she craved.

Because at the end of the day, her comfort mattered more than anything else. If she wanted fewer people around, so be it. If she needed someone by her side, she wouldn’t have to look far I would be there, always.

She may not have asked for it, but she was my queen, and a king does whatever it takes to see his queen happy.