Chapter:1 The Proposal

Isha’s POV

The air in our living room felt different tonight—heavy, expectant. My mother’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she set down a tray of chai and samosas. My father’s smile was wider than usual, his gaze fixed on me with a look that made my stomach twist with unease. I knew something was coming, but I wasn’t prepared for what came next.

“We have some wonderful news, Isha,” my mother began, her voice bright. She exchanged a quick glance with my father, who nodded encouragingly. “We’ve received a marriage proposal for you.”

My heart sank. “A proposal?” I repeated, trying to keep my tone neutral even as my mind raced. “Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

My father cleared his throat. “It’s a very good match, Isha. The Thakur family is one of the most respected in the city, and their son, Aarav, is a successful businessman.”

I felt the familiar weight of expectation settle on my shoulders. Being the eldest daughter came with its responsibilities, and I had always fulfilled them without question. I graduated at the top of my class, became a lawyer, and juggled my career with family obligations. But this—marriage—felt like a step I wasn’t ready for.

“Successful businessman?” I echoed, folding my arms across my chest. “And how do we know this isn’t just about business?”

My mother’s smile faltered, but my father remained firm. “We’ve done our research. The Thakurs are a good family. Aarav is educated, hardworking, and—most importantly—he’s interested in settling down.”

I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of irritation. “And what about me? What if I’m not ready?”

My mother’s expression softened. “Isha, just meet him once. We’re not asking you to decide right now. It’s just a meeting.”

I let out a sigh, feeling trapped. I knew my parents only wanted the best for me, and in our culture, arranged marriages were common. But the idea of marrying a man I’d never met, a man whose intentions I couldn’t read, made me uneasy. Still, I couldn’t bear to disappoint them. “Fine. One meeting. But no promises.”

My mother’s face lit up, and my father looked relieved. “That’s all we’re asking.”

Aarav’s POV

Across the city, in a penthouse office overlooking the skyline, Aarav Thakur leaned back in his chair as his mother, Meera, made the same announcement. The room was filled with the soft glow of city lights, but the tension between them was palpable.

“The Kapoors have accepted our proposal,” Meera said, her voice calm yet firm. “You’ll be meeting Isha next week.”

Aarav’s eyes, cold and calculating, flicked to his mother. “I don’t see why this is necessary, Mother.”

Meera met his gaze without flinching. “It’s time, Aarav. We need to strengthen our alliances. The business has enemies, and an alliance with the Kapoor family will help stabilize our position.”

Aarav’s jaw tightened. “So, this is about business. Not marriage.”

She sighed, her expression softening. “It’s both. Isha Kapoor is a lawyer—intelligent, independent. She’s the kind of woman who can stand by your side, both in public and behind the scenes.”

Aarav looked away, staring out the window. He knew the truth behind their business. On the surface, they were the owners of a thriving import-export company, but beneath it lay a web of illicit dealings, power plays, and enemies who would stop at nothing to destroy them.

Marrying a woman like Isha could be a way to maintain his public image—a respectable businessman with a stable home life. But a part of him felt uneasy. “And if she refuses?”

Meera’s eyes darkened. “She won’t. The Kapoors are a traditional family. They value alliances as much as we do.”

He nodded, but doubt lingered in his mind. “Fine. I’ll meet her. But this is only for business.”

Meera’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m sure you’ll find she’s more than just a business asset.”

Aarav didn’t respond. He couldn’t afford to think of this as anything more than a transaction. In his world, emotions were dangerous—weaknesses that could be exploited. If he was going to marry Isha Kapoor, it would be on his terms.

Isha’s POV

The day of the meeting arrived quicker than I’d expected. My mother fussed over my appearance, adjusting my hair and smoothing down the sari she’d chosen for me. “Simple and elegant,” she said, smiling proudly.

I forced a smile, feeling a knot of anxiety in my stomach. “It’s just a meeting,” I reminded myself as I stepped into the living room. The Thakurs were already there.

Aarav stood as I entered, and the first thing I noticed was his intense gaze. His eyes were dark, sharp, as if they could read my every thought. He was taller than I expected, with a quiet confidence that filled the room.

We exchanged polite greetings, and I sat across from him, feeling my nerves tighten. As we talked, I found myself surprised by his composure. He asked me about my work, my interests, and I felt myself relaxing—if only a little. But there was something guarded about him, something that made me feel like I was speaking to a man wearing a mask.

After the conversation ended, we exchanged a polite farewell. But as Aarav’s eyes met mine one last time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this engagement—this arrangement—was more complicated than either of us was prepared for.

And deep down, I knew that whatever was ahead, it wasn’t going to be easy.

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