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Vayran
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As I walked away, the girl's voice rang in my ears, each word sharper than the last. Apologize? For what? An earpod that probably cost less than the coffee I had this morning? The absurdity of it all nearly made me laugh, but my mood was already too sour for that.
Sliding into the car, I gave my guard a look that could curdle milk. "Drive."
He hesitated, clearing his throat like he had something important to say. "Sir, good afternoon."
I raised an eyebrow, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, yes, it's a fantastic afternoon. The car broke down, I had to step on a random girl's overpriced plastic toy, and now I'm late for a meeting with people I couldn't care less about. Truly, life is sunshine and rainbows today."
As I leaned back in the seat, staring blankly at the city blurring past, her face flickered in my mind like an unwanted glitch in a system I had perfected. Her fiery glare, the stubborn set of her jaw, the way she stood her ground like she wasn't staring up at a man who could crush her world with a phone call-it was ridiculous. Infuriating. And yet, it gnawed at something deep inside me, something I didn't even realize was still alive.
That look in her eyes-it wasn't fear. It wasn't even anger. It was defiance, raw and unapologetic, like she was daring me to care, daring me to give a damn about her broken earpod and whatever childish vendetta she thought she had against me. People didn't look at me like that. They flinched, they bowed, they feared. But she? She stood there like I was just another man, not a king. Also, the way she fixed her bindi twice that too while arguing who does that?
And that's what unsettled me. That's what clawed at my chest. Not because I felt guilt-I didn't. Not because I cared-I couldn't. But because for a fleeting second, her defiance reminded me of something I had buried so deep it barely felt real.
She felt like a spark, uncontainable and reckless, and my world didn't have room for sparks. Sparks burned. Sparks destroyed. And yet, as much as I hated it, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wanted to extinguish her fire-not with water, but with my own darkness.
I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists. What the hell was wrong with me? She was a nobody, a fleeting inconvenience. Yet the memory of her stood rooted in my mind, pulling at something long forgotten-a crack in the armor I had spent years forging.
"Sir, the meeting documents-" my guard began, but the sharp look I threw him was enough to silence the air in the car. He turned his attention back to the road, wisely deciding against irritating me further.
A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. This is what it's come to? A multi-billionaire reduced to brooding over a street argument with a girl who can't even keep her gadgets safe? Yet, there was something disarming in her defiance, in the way she hadn't hesitated to challenge me-a king in the world of corporate dominance and darker realms where power reigned over morality.
I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes again. But peace was never an old friend of mine. The memories came like a merciless tide.
"Maasa, wake up! Maa-sa, look at your Anshu! Why is she not waking up?!"
The voice echoed in my head, louder than the honking traffic outside. The image of little hands shaking an unmoving body, of tears falling on lifeless skin-it pierced through my fortress like a dagger. My fists clenched instinctively, nails digging into my palms.
I opened my eyes, my gaze now cold and detached. The man I was-a conqueror, a businessman, a devil in a suit-didn't have the luxury of mourning. Weakness was a game for others. Love? Attachment? I'd burned those bridges long ago. Yet here I was, haunted by shadows I couldn't outrun.
"To hell with this," I muttered under my breath, startling the driver. I picked up the project file again, feigning interest. It was better to drown myself in graphs and contracts than to let ghosts-or that girl-drag me down into the abyss.
But deep down, a voice whispered, "Who are you kidding? You don't drown. You rise above the ashes. Just don't forget who lit the fire."
Soon, we arrived at the hotel, and I stepped out of the car with the weight of the world on my shoulders. My mind still replayed that damned encounter with her-the girl who had dared to stand in my way like I was just any man she could argue with. As I walked through the VVIP area, my thoughts were as dark as the marble floors beneath my feet. The room, opulent and suffocating with power, did little to calm the storm brewing inside me. Grandfather and my so-called father were already seated with the client, the air thick with deals and favors I had no interest in.
I took my place at the table, sitting like a king on his throne, the weight of my bloodline pressing down on my spine. The moment was mine to dominate, and I wasn't about to let anyone forget it. My grandfather gave me a nod, as if to remind me of my place in this world, the world he had built. But I wasn't here for him. Not today.
The introductions were made, their words barely piercing the wall of indifference I had erected around myself. As the conversation about the project began, they turned to me. "Your thoughts, Vayran?"
I let my gaze flicker across the room, making sure they all knew who was in charge. "I won't decide anything until I see the presentation," I said, my tone as cold as the steel coursing through my veins. My grandfather's nod of approval was a hollow acknowledgment, but my father? He only cared about the power this deal would bring, not the substance.
Lunch was served, but I didn't care for food. My appetite had long been devoured by the thoughts of that girl-her eyes, her voice, the audacity of her challenge. It wasn't just about the earpod, it was the way she stood her ground as if she had any business facing off with someone like me. And for the first time in years, I felt a stir-a sense of something that didn't belong. I shook it off, dismissing it as an irritation, but I couldn't stop the thoughts from swirling.
Then, like a knife to the chest, my father dropped a bombshell. "I've agreed to the deal on one condition," he said, looking straight at me, as if expecting my compliance.
I raised an eyebrow. Something in the air shifted. "What condition?" I asked, my voice sharp with suspicion.
"They want you to marry Mr. Desai's daughter," he said flatly.
The world stilled. Marry? I barely knew her. And even if I did, why the hell would I care? My bloodline was far too sacred to be sullied by a stranger, let alone some deal-embroiled pawn.
"No," I replied, my voice cutting through the silence like a dagger.
"It's just a contract for ten months," he insisted, his tone patronizing. "Think of the popularity and power it will bring us in the business world."
"Why would I marry a stranger?" I spat, my patience wearing thin. The idea was preposterous.
My grandfather leaned in then, as if weighing his words carefully. "What if you were open to marrying Mr. Oberoi's daughter instead?"
I scoffed. "She's a spoiled brat. You can keep her."
Grandfather's eyes hardened, his desire for me to settle down clear in the desperation in his gaze. He wanted a wedding before his death, a groom in the family to carry on his legacy. But I wasn't about to indulge him. "I'm not getting married," I stated, my voice colder than the marble beneath us.
Mr. Desai, ever the businessman, nodded. "It's your choice, Vayran."
"If it's a choice, then there's nothing to discuss," I said with finality. But my grandfather wasn't done yet.
He asked me to speak with him privately. My father and Mr. Desai left the table, their presence like a fading echo. I sat across from my grandfather in the quiet, the silence a pressure I wasn't used to.
"Why don't you want to get married?" he asked, his voice softer, like the thread of desperation was beginning to unravel in him.
I stood, brushing off the conversation before it could drag me deeper. "Because I'm not interested in love, or marriage. It's a big no," I said, preparing to leave.
But then he said something that made my steps falter. "Your mother would have wanted to see you married. I'm old, Vayran. I want to die seeing my heir as a groom."
I froze. The mention of my mother-her-was a knife to my gut, twisting painfully, dredging up memories I'd buried deep. But I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
"Dadasa," I said, my voice softer now, but still firm. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm not ready for this. I'm not going to be tied down."
His eyes were filled with disappointment, but there was understanding there too. "I know you're stubborn. But sometimes we must make sacrifices. This isn't just about you; it's about our legacy."
"Legacy?" I scoffed, the words bitter on my tongue. "You think marrying a stranger will secure our legacy? It's a joke."
"It's not a joke, and you know it," he pressed, his voice steady. "If you marry Mr. Desai's daughter, it will strengthen our ties in the business world. You'll have more influence. More power."
"Power? Is that all this is about?" My blood boiled, the darkness in me rising. "I didn't enter this empire to be some pawn in your game."
"Sometimes, you have to play the game to win it," he said, his tone calm, almost too calm. "You may not see it now, but this could benefit you in the long run."
I shook my head, feeling like a cornered animal. "I'm not playing games with my life," I snarled.
"What do you want, then?" he asked, his voice softening, though I could hear the edge of desperation in it. "What will make you happy?"
"I want to be free," I whispered, my voice almost breaking. "I want to make my own choices. Not be some puppet on a string."
"Your mother would have wanted to see you married," he repeated, and his words stung. "I'm old, Vayran. Please... I just want peace before I go."
His words shattered something deep inside me, the fragments of my past crashing into the present. But I wasn't about to let that chain me down.
"I don't want to think about her," I said, my voice like ice. "I don't want to be reminded of what I lost."
"Then let me help you," he urged. "Let me see you married. It doesn't have to be forever. Just a contract."
"Dadasa," I growled, my frustration boiling over. "I'm not getting married. Not now. Not ever."
His eyes were cold with determination. "If you refuse to marry Mr. Desai's daughter, what about Mr. Oberoi's daughter? She's a good girl."
I rolled my eyes. "She's a spoiled brat. I won't marry her either."
He pressed harder. "Why are you so against this? You're acting like a child."
"Because I am a child in this matter!" I snapped. "I'm not some toy to be used for business deals."
"Life is a business deal," he countered, his tone hard. "You need to understand that."
"Maybe I don't want to understand," I shot back. "Maybe I want to live my life on my own terms."
"Then you're being foolish," he said, shaking his head in frustration. "You're throwing away an opportunity that could benefit you and our family."
"An opportunity?" I laughed bitterly, the sound dark and hollow. "You mean a prison sentence?"
"Enough!" he snapped, his voice finally breaking. "You will marry, and you will do it for me, at least."
I stood, fury rising inside me. "You can't force me into this!"
"I can, and I will," he replied, his voice cold. "This is for your own good."
I stood there for a moment, the weight of his words crushing me. But then, with a smirk, I gave him my answer. "Fine. But if this marriage happens, I'll make sure she runs away before the wedding night."
"Is that how you want to handle this?" he asked, his tone serious.
"Why not?" I shot back, crossing my arms. "I refuse to be tied down to someone I don't even know."
Just then, my father returned, looking concerned. "What happened? Why are you two sitting silently?"
"I won't become king if I marry her," I said, my voice sharp as a blade.
His expression was priceless, a mixture of shock and confusion. But my grandfather intervened, his voice calm and unyielding. "He will marry, but he will not become king. Let it be."
I rolled my eyes and stood to leave, not bothering to say another word. Tomorrow, I was expected at the Desai family's house for lunch.
But as I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. The girl with the earpod was still in my mind, a minor annoyance for now. But as for the marriage? That was my game now. And I always played to win-especially when it was vengeance.
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