House Full of Secrets
Tithi had imagined many versions of her married life, but none of them included walking into a mansion that felt colder than a hospital corridor.
The gates of the Chaudhury estate closed behind the car with a heavy metallic sound, as if sealing her fate. The building stood tall and proud under the evening sky, its marble walls glowing faintly in golden lights. It was beautiful—grand, elegant, and intimidating.
Ariaan stepped out of the car first. He adjusted his cufflinks and spoke without looking at her.
"From now on, you will stay in the east wing. My room is in the west wing. There are rules in this house."
Tithi swallowed. "Rules?"
"Yes. You don't enter my private office. You don't interfere in my business matters. And most importantly…" He paused, finally meeting her eyes. "You don't fall in love with me."
The words hit her harder than she expected.
"As if that would ever happen," she replied softly, trying to protect what little pride she had left.
A faint smirk appeared on his lips, but it vanished just as quickly.
Inside, the mansion was even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings. Paintings that looked expensive enough to buy an apartment lined the walls. Everything screamed power and wealth.
And yet, Tithi felt incredibly small.
Near the grand staircase stood the woman she had seen earlier—Meera.
She was tall, confident, and dressed impeccably. Her sharp eyes scanned Tithi from head to toe.
"So this is the bride," Meera said coolly. "Congratulations, Mrs. Chaudhury."
"Thank you," Tithi replied politely.
Meera stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Just a piece of advice. This house has cameras in every corner. Nothing remains hidden here."
Before Tithi could respond, Ariaan interrupted. "Meera, that's enough."
Meera smiled faintly. "Of course, sir."
Sir.
The way she said it made something twist uncomfortably inside Tithi's chest.
A middle-aged housekeeper approached and bowed slightly. "Madam, I'll show you your room."
Tithi followed her upstairs. The east wing was quieter, almost isolated. Her room was enormous—king-sized bed, silk curtains, a private balcony overlooking the garden.
It was more luxurious than anything she had ever imagined.
But luxury didn't feel like comfort tonight.
After the housekeeper left, Tithi sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The heavy bridal jewelry was still around her neck. She slowly removed it, one piece at a time.
"What have I done?" she whispered to herself.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
It was Ariaan.
"May I come in?" he asked formally.
She nodded.
He entered but remained near the door, keeping a careful distance.
"I want to make something clear," he began. "This marriage is a contract. After one year, you will receive a generous settlement. Enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life."
Tithi looked at him steadily. "And what about your life?"
He seemed surprised by the question.
"My life is already planned."
"By you?" she asked quietly. "Or by your grandfather's will?"
For the first time, she saw something flicker in his eyes—anger? Pain?
"My grandfather built this empire from nothing," Ariaan said firmly. "He believed family stability attracts business stability. That's why he created that clause."
"So I'm just stability?" Tithi whispered.
Silence filled the room.
Ariaan exhaled slowly. "You're fulfilling a requirement. Nothing more."
The words stung, even though she had expected them.
"Fine," she said after a moment. "Then let's set my condition too."
His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Condition?"
"If I'm going to act as your wife for one year, I want respect. No humiliation. No treating me like a decorative object."
He studied her carefully, as if seeing her for the first time.
"You have courage," he said.
"Or maybe I have nothing left to lose," she replied.
A faint tension lingered between them—unexpected, electric.
Finally, he nodded. "Agreed."
As he turned to leave, Tithi asked, "Why me?"
He paused at the doorway.
"Because you were the only one who didn't beg."
Her heart skipped.
"When my manager approached several families," he continued, "most of them were desperate for money. But you refused at first. That intrigued me."
Tithi felt her cheeks warm. She remembered arguing with her father, insisting she didn't want to marry a stranger.
"So you chose me because I said no?" she asked.
"Partly," he admitted.
After he left, Tithi stepped onto the balcony. The night air was cool. The garden below was lit softly, almost dreamlike.
But her thoughts were far from peaceful.
Why did Meera look at her with such hostility?
Why did Ariaan's voice carry hidden exhaustion?
And why did his presence make her heart beat faster, even after his warning?
The next morning arrived too quickly.
At breakfast, the long dining table felt like a battlefield.
Ariaan sat at one end, reading business reports on his tablet. Meera stood beside him, discussing meeting schedules.
Tithi took her seat quietly.
"Sir, the investors from Singapore confirmed their visit," Meera said.
Ariaan nodded. "Prepare the presentation."
Meera glanced at Tithi. "Will Madam attend?"
The question sounded innocent, but it carried an edge.
Ariaan hesitated for a second. "Yes. She should."
Tithi looked up, surprised.
Meera's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
After breakfast, Ariaan turned to Tithi. "You'll need to attend social events with me. The board members must see us together."
"So I'm part of your public image," she said calmly.
"Yes."
"Then I need to understand your business," she replied. "I won't stand beside you looking clueless."
Meera let out a soft, sarcastic laugh. "Business isn't a hobby, Mrs. Chaudhury."
Tithi met her gaze steadily. "Neither is marriage."
The tension in the room thickened.
Ariaan observed both women carefully.
"Meera," he said finally, "arrange basic briefings for her."
Meera's eyes widened slightly. "Sir?"
"That's an order."
For the first time since entering the mansion, Tithi felt a small spark of victory.
Later that afternoon, as she walked through the hallway, she accidentally passed by a partially open door—the west wing.
Inside, Ariaan was arguing on the phone.
"I don't care what the board says!" he snapped. "The merger will not happen without my approval."
His voice sounded different—raw, frustrated.
Tithi stepped back quietly, not wanting to intrude.
But she realized something important.
Ariaan Chaudhury wasn't just a cold billionaire.
He was fighting battles she couldn't yet see.
That night, as she lay in her massive bed, sleep refused to come.
This house was full of secrets.
This marriage was full of conditions.
And this man—her so-called husband—was far more complicated than she had imagined.
One year.
Three hundred sixty-five days.
She had agreed to survive this contract.
But deep inside, a dangerous question began to grow—
What if surviving wasn't the hardest part?
What if falling was?