Chapter 1: The Marriage of Convenience

The Singhania mansion was bathed in shimmering lights, the scent of roses and jasmine lingering in the air long after the final guests had departed. Every inch of the estate had been decorated with exquisite taste-a testament to the grandeur expected from a family as powerful as the Singhanias. For the past several hours, the halls had echoed with laughter, music, and blessings as Raj Singhania and Rashi Verma's wedding unfolded before the eyes of family, friends, and influential figures from the underworld and business elite alike. Now, however, silence cloaked the mansion, leaving only the flicker of dim candlelight and the quiet footsteps of house staff cleaning the remnants of the grand celebration.

Inside her new bedroom, Rashi sat silently, adjusting the delicate folds of her lehenga. It was a masterpiece of crimson and gold, the heavy silk adorned with intricate zari work that shimmered with every movement she made. Tiny pearls had been woven into the embroidery, forming delicate paisleys and floral designs that ran across the skirt. The dupatta-a sheer veil with a matching border of gold and pearl-lay loosely over her head, framing her face and draping elegantly over her shoulders.

Rashi reached up, carefully removing the earrings that had weighed on her earlobes all evening. They were beautifully crafted jhumkas, each tier encrusted with tiny rubies that matched the crimson of her lehenga. She moved slowly, almost ritualistically, as if the careful removal of each piece of jewelry might help her peel back the heaviness she felt in her heart. Her bangles-dozens of delicate gold and glass bracelets in shades of red and green-clinked softly as she set her earrings aside.

Her hands trembled slightly. Not from fear, but from the silent ache she felt for the man she'd loved from a distance for years-a man who now, ironically, was her husband by the binding vows of matrimony but might never truly be hers. Rashi had never allowed herself to dream that her secret crush on Raj would lead her to this moment, but she had accepted the marriage. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that in time he might come to see her as something more than a stranger forced upon him by family obligations.

Just then, the door to the bedroom swung open with a deliberate slowness. Raj entered, his presence filling the room with an aura of authority, pride, and an unapproachable coldness that sent a shiver down her spine. He still wore his wedding sherwani-a luxurious deep navy blue adorned with silver embroidery. It fit him like a glove, emphasizing his broad shoulders and strong build. The kurta underneath the sherwani was a subtle shade of silver, mirroring the embroidery, while the intricate patterns on his sherwani's collar and cuffs glimmered as he moved.

Raj's dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd run a hand through it in frustration more than once. His eyes were sharp and unreadable, the intensity in his gaze hardening as he took in Rashi's quiet, poised figure on the edge of the bed. There was no softness in his expression, no sign of warmth or compassion-only a deep resentment and a tired acceptance of the arrangement thrust upon him.

Raj's voice, low and cold, broke the silence. "Let's make this clear," he said, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. "I didn't want this marriage. I was forced into it."

The words landed like stones, each one a fresh blow against Rashi's fragile hope. She had prepared herself for this moment, for the harsh reality of Raj's indifference. Yet hearing his words stung in a way she hadn't anticipated. She forced herself to remain calm, to bury the disappointment and hurt that threatened to surface.

Raj continued, his voice as unyielding as steel. "You might be my wife by name, but that's all it'll ever be. This"-he gestured between them-"is nothing more than an arrangement. Do you understand?"

Rashi swallowed, nodding as she gathered the strength to respond. Her voice, though soft, held a quiet dignity. "I understand, Raj. I didn't expect anything from you." She looked down, gathering her thoughts before meeting his gaze again, a glimmer of sadness barely visible in her brown eyes. "I'll respect your boundaries."

Raj raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by her calm acceptance. He had expected resistance, perhaps anger or even tears. Instead, Rashi's composure seemed to unsettle him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Good," he replied, recovering quickly and settling into his cold demeanor. "Then this arrangement should work just fine." He turned away, his dismissive tone conveying that he considered the matter resolved.

Rashi watched him with a sinking heart. She'd known, of course, that this marriage would be loveless. She had accepted that Raj's heart was still scarred by the painful memories of his past, the wound left by the woman he had once loved and lost. But a part of her, small and fragile, had dared to hope that time might change things. Now, in the dim light of the room that was to be theirs, reality settled heavily upon her.

She rose from the bed and made her way to the vanity, her movements graceful yet mechanical, as if moving through a routine that would help numb the ache in her chest. In the mirror, she saw Raj watching her reflection, his expression inscrutable. Her fingers moved to the bangles on her wrists, slowly slipping them off one by one.

Each piece of jewelry she removed felt like shedding a piece of her own hopes. The heavy necklace that had adorned her neck all evening-a beautiful choker of gold, studded with emeralds and rubies that matched her lehenga-was the last to go. She felt the cool air against her bare collarbones, as if she were stripping away not just her bridal jewelry, but also the remnants of the dreams she had dared to weave around him.

Without another word, Raj moved to the armchair near the large window and sat down, his back facing her. The silence in the room was almost unbearable, pressing down on Rashi with a suffocating weight. She looked at his rigid posture, the tension in his shoulders, and felt the sting of rejection settling in her bones. There would be no honeymoon phase, no tentative steps toward understanding each other, only an indifferent cohabitation dictated by the terms he'd set.

Rashi turned away from the mirror, trying to ignore the hollow ache in her chest. She had agreed to this marriage out of duty and respect for her family's wishes. She would honor her promise, no matter how painful it might be. Silently, she crossed the room to take a blanket from the closet, preparing to sleep on the couch.

As she moved, Raj's voice cut through the quiet. "You can take the bed. I'll be gone early for work tomorrow."

Rashi hesitated, surprised by his offer but aware it was more out of convenience than kindness. "Thank you, Raj," she replied softly, a hint of gratitude slipping through. She walked back to the bed and settled herself against the pillows, pulling the blanket up around her.

As the silence stretched on, Rashi allowed herself a few moments to process the hurt, to acknowledge the ache that had settled in her heart. She knew Raj was unlikely to ever feel the same way, but some small part of her clung to the memories of the glimpses she'd seen of him before-moments when he'd laughed freely or shown kindness. Those glimpses had made her fall in love with him, and despite everything, she couldn't bring herself to let go entirely.

She lay there in the darkness, her gaze fixed on the faint glimmers of moonlight streaming through the window. Her heart was heavy, but there was also a resolve taking root within her-a determination to make something out of this arrangement, however difficult it might be.

Rashi took a deep breath, closing her eyes and letting the silence wash over her. She reminded herself that this was just the beginning. There would be days ahead, moments that might soften the distance between them, even if only a little. And for now, that was enough to give her a faint glimmer of hope, however fragile it might be.

**Rashi's Thoughts**: *I knew he wouldn't love me. I'd prepared myself for this reality... but hearing it still hurts. I never expected anything from him, yet I can't help but wish that one day, perhaps, he might see me differently. But until then, I'll honor this marriage, if only for the sake of my family.*

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In this first night as husband and wife, Raj and Rashi lay in opposite corners of the room, separated by an emotional chasm neither of them had the will-or the courage-to cross. But beneath the cold words and the quiet acceptance, both carried their own burdens of pain and silent hopes. And so began their story-a marriage bound not by love, but by duty, with only the faintest whispers of something more lying just beneath the surface.

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