Chapter 2 : The Gilded Cage
The interior of the limousine was deathly silent. Even the sound of the torrential rain outside couldn't penetrate the expensive glass. Avani stared out the window, watching the city blur into a smudge of grey and neon. The cold, metallic touch of the silver pen still lingered on her fingertips. Only a few minutes ago, she had sold her freedom. For exactly one year, she was now the legal property of Aryan Singhania.
Aryan was typing away on his laptop, completely indifferent to the girl sitting next to him, drenched and shivering. His icy silence was more suffocating than the fear she felt.
"Has... has your man reached the hospital?" Avani stammered. Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears.
Without looking away from the screen, Aryan replied in a deep, clinical tone, "Do not question my methods, Avani. The funds have been transferred. Your father's surgery begins at dawn. Dr. Mehta is performing the operation personally—he is the best cardiac surgeon in this city."
A massive weight lifted from Avani's chest. Her father's life was safe. But what about her own? She stole a glance at Aryan. He was as breathtaking as he was mysterious. Why would the city's most powerful billionaire need a simple middle-class girl? Was it truly just his grandfather's dying wish? Or was there a darker game afoot?
The car glided through the most elite part of the city and stopped before a massive black iron gate. As it opened, a palace emerged—'Singhania Mansion.' Built of snow-white marble, the estate shimmered under the night lights. But to Avani, it looked like a glorified prison.
The moment the car stopped, Aryan stepped out without waiting for her. He walked inside with brisk, long strides, leaving Avani to follow him in her rain-soaked clothes.
Stepping inside, she froze. Luxury dripped from every corner, from the marble floors to the crystal chandeliers. In the living room sat an elderly man on a large sofa. He had an oxygen tube attached to his nose, but his eyes held a strange, kind spark.
"Grandfather, this is the girl I told you about. Avani," Aryan introduced her with complete indifference.
The old man looked at Avani from head to toe. A peaceful smile spread across his face. "A lovely girl. Aryan, you were right. Her eyes are pure. Come here, child. Sit with me."
Avani sat beside him, trembling. The grandfather placed a hand on her head in a blessing. A sharp sting of guilt pierced Avani's heart. This man believed their marriage was real, when in reality, it was just a piece of paper.
"The ceremony will be held tonight," the grandfather whispered, breathless. "I don't have much time left. I want to see you two united before I go."
Aryan checked his watch. "Everything is ready, Grandfather. The priest is on his way. Avani, there are clothes for you in the room upstairs. Get ready quickly."
Avani's head was spinning. Everything was happening so fast she barely had time to breathe. A maid led her to a massive bedroom. On the bed lay a blood-red designer lehenga and diamond jewelry.
She stood before the mirror. This morning, she was an ordinary girl struggling to pay bills; tonight, she was becoming the wife of the most feared yet attractive man in the city. But this vermillion had no meaning, and this marriage held no sanctity.
An hour later. Avani and Aryan sat before the sacred fire. The priest chanted mantras. When Aryan applied the vermillion to her forehead, his touch was as cold as ice. Avani shivered. There was no love in Aryan's eyes—only the cruel glint of a victor.
As soon as the ceremony ended, Aryan sent his grandfather to rest. Then, gripping Avani's hand firmly, he dragged her toward his bedroom. He slammed the door shut and pinned her against the wall.
"Listen to me, Avani," Aryan's voice was sharper now, like a blade. "In this house, you may be my wife, but in my life, you have no place. In front of my grandfather, you will play the role of the perfect bride. But inside this room, we are strangers. Do not touch my things, and do not interfere in my personal life. Remember, I bought you."
Tears welled up in Avani's eyes. "I know. But you could at least treat me like a human being."
Aryan gave a cynical smirk. "Human? I stopped being human a long time ago. Now, I am just a businessman. Go, sleep on the sofa. We leave for the hospital in the morning."
Avani spent the night curled up on the expensive sofa. Outside, the rain showed no signs of stopping. She wondered if her father would ever know the magnitude of the sacrifice she had made.
The next morning. Hospital.
The surgery was a success. As Avani watched her father through the ICU glass, she felt every hardship was worth it. Suddenly, a heavy hand rested on her shoulder. Aryan stood beside her. To an outsider, he looked like a caring husband comforting his wife. But he leaned in and whispered, "The real work of our contract begins as soon as your father recovers. There is a charity ball next week. You will have to perform your role as my 'worthy' wife to perfection. Don't waste time."
On the way back from the hospital, Avani realized she would be trapped in this gilded cage for a long time. But would she ever be able to melt the ice around Aryan's heart? Or would she become a part of his darkness?
Back at the mansion, Aryan handed her a key to a drawer. "Your credit cards and allowance are in here. Buy whatever you need. But do nothing that tarnishes the Singhania name."
Avani looked directly into Aryan's eyes and said calmly, "I will protect your honor, Mr. Singhania. Because I have bought it with the honor of my father."
Aryan stopped in his tracks. For a fleeting second, the fire in Avani's eyes created a strange restlessness within him. Without a word, he turned and walked toward his study.
Avani stood by the window. The clouds in the sky were beginning to clear. But would the clouds over her life ever fade away?