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Happy reading...

Om bhim bhush, om bhim bhush, I was casting my spell on all my readers to make them vote and comment on my book without fail.

Om bhim bhush, om bhim bhush...

Meanwhile, let's continue with the story...

---

Arjun's POV...

My staring session came to a halt with her soft voice...

"Ahh, door ke peeche dewaar kisne banayi hai?"
("Ahh, who built a wall behind the door?")

I thought to myself, "Why the hell is she screaming so loudly? My eardrums will burst," as I looked at a petite figure with a beautiful face but a much louder voice.

"Deewar nahi, main hoon," ("Not a wall, it's me") I replied in my usual cold tone that usually makes people flinch in fear, but she was different. She tilted her neck and looked at me, her brown eyes meeting my deep hazel ones. And then, maybe she got lost in my eyes. Usually, people drool over me, and I just throw death glares at them. But this girl, she's not drooling, she's admiring me. I can sense that.

Suddenly, we both came back to reality when there was a tug on our shoulders. I saw that it was Abrahm, who had clicked a picture of the two of us. "I'll kill you soon, asshole," I muttered under my breath, and heard her voice again. Damn, did she swallow a loudspeaker in her childhood?

"Chor, chor, mera bag chori karke le gaya, pakdo koi usse!"
("Thief, thief, someone stole my bag, catch him!") she said, running behind the thief who had stolen her bag.

"Where did she go?" Abrahm asked, approaching the entrance.

"She went after the thief who ran away with her bag," I replied with a bored expression.

"And you're still here? You should go help her, you bloody..." he said, scrunching his eyebrows. This guy doesn't even know how to curse. How is he my best friend?

"And give me one good reason why I should help her," I replied, uninterested. I'm not a caring human being. I don't love this world. I'm a demon who shows nothing but cruelty.

"It's called H-U-M-A-N-I-T-Y, you moron," he stretched each letter, expecting me to show some compassion, but humanity and I are poles apart. Still, he's persistent. He grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the girl, and for the first time, I felt a strange sensation. What was it? Maybe pity? Yes, pity for the poor boy now doing sit-ups in front of her. Wait, why am I feeling pity? This world doesn't deserve pity or mercy-it only deserves my wrath.

"Kya didi, ek bag ke liye bache ki jaan logi kya?"
("Sister, will you take my life for a bag?") the boy said while still doing sit-ups.

"Ek simple bag nahi hai yeh, maine sale mein kharida tha, 500 rupaiya deke! Itna costly hai yeh!"
("It's not a simple bag, I bought it in a sale for 500 rupees! It's so expensive!") she whined, pulling his ear.

"Aur iss mein 300 rupaiya hai, aur tum sirf bag ke baare mein baat kar rahi ho?"
("And it has 300 rupees in it, and you're only talking about the bag?") She twisted his ear even harder.

"300 rupaiya?"
("300 rupees?") we gasped.

"Okay, not 300, but 280 rupees," she corrected.

"It's fine, let him go, he's scared," Abrahm said, showing concern for the boy. But I gave him a cold look. Why does he always care so easily?

"And you?" she asked. Meanwhile, the boy ran off, returning her bag.

Abrahm introduced himself to her, and she warmly introduced herself too. Ah, her name is Pallavi. We went back to the restaurant and ordered some food. I thought to myself, "I'm not interested in this drama," keeping my usual cold and expressionless face.

---

"Iss na-cheez ko yeh banda apna dost bolta hai, par banda toh shayari aur haseenavon ka khaas mureed hai,"
("This guy calls me his friend, but he's actually a great admirer of poetry and beauties.") Abrahm said in his poetic style, and I rolled my eyes. Why is he so dramatic? Oh right, I don't believe in God, so for me, it's not "for God's sake," it's "for the devil's sake."

"Toh banda shaayar bhi hai?"
("So you're also a poet?") she asked with a smile. Maybe she also likes poetry, but why are they having this conversation in front of me? Do I even exist here?

"Aur sudh khalis janm-janmantar wale sage dost bhi hai hum,"
("We are true friends from many lifetimes.") he said. I was waiting for a translation because his words were nothing short of a treasure hunt for normal people.

"Well, who said you're normal, Mr. Srivastav?"

As we continued eating, their nonsense conversation dragged on, but I was waiting for the right moment to drop a bomb on her head...

My eyes were glued to my tablet, but the constant jingling of her bangles and earrings kept distracting me. "Ugh, these are so noisy! Can't women avoid wearing such things for a peaceful environment?"

The earrings and bangles seemed to mock "Rukho jara, sabar karo. Ek din tumhe humari yeh hi jhan jhan ki awaaz tumhari blissful subah ka wake-up call lagegi."
("Wait a little, be patient. One day, you'll definitely love our jingling sound as your blissful morning wake-up call.")

And then, I heard the most dangerous and unexpected word leave her lips:

"Abrahm Bhayya."

Oh no. She could have called him Mr. Abrahm, Abhi, sweetheart, jaaneman, dear, even bro-anything! But why, of all things, did this girl choose to call him Abrahm Bhayya? Now, who's going to handle this emotional fool whose feelings are about to overflow?

According to my understanding, girls have PMS once a month, but my friend, this half-crazy man (adha pagal insaan), seems to have PMS 30 days a month and 365 days a year!

Yes, I admit he loved his late sister way too much. But not every girl can be my Aaru. And yes, I can proudly say that my Aaru, who was nothing more than a walking complaint box, would complain about everyone to her Bhayya-I mean, Abrahm. Since the day she left us in that tragic accident, he sees his sister in every girl who calls him Bhayya. And now, girls have started fooling him by using that word.

"Now, who has to handle his mood swings? Damn this girl! Koi aur word nahi mila kya tumhe?"

I just cursed my fate and awaited the most popular dialogue in my life: "Kya kaha tumne?"

"Kya kaha tumne?" Abrahm said, and I closed my eyes in frustration.

"I didn't say anything, bhayya," she replied.

"Hogaya kalyaan," I cursed again.

"Bas aaj se tum meri bhai ho aur mein tumhara behen," Abrahm said.

"What?" she jerked in her place.

"I mean, tum meri behen ho aur mein tumhara bhai. Aaj se koi bhi problem ho, I will be there for you just like Arjun is there for his sister Draupadi," he said.

I scrunched my eyebrows. I had seen tears in his eyes. Why do people always call someone a drama queen when there are also drama kings in this world?

"It's okay, bhayya, but..." We both tilted our heads when she stopped her sentence. "But it's Krishna who saved Draupadi, not Arjuna," she corrected him while handing him a tissue.

"Ahhhh kaha fas gaya hun mein?" I mentally cursed my fate and braced myself for this new bond. It wasn't good for my mental health; it was a danger sign to my peace, a red flag to my sanity.

"What, aapko galiya dena nahi aata?" she exclaimed again. Damn, why is he so loud? Mumbai is already surrounded by so much pollution; there's no need for extra noise pollution.

"Don't worry, mein apko galiya sikha dungi, woh bhi chaar galiya. You know I have learnt these galiyan from my Shalu; she is an expert in galiyas," she said proudly. And this guy, who usually refers to her as my friend but is no less than an enemy, listens to her nonsense as if it's the headline news of today's stock exchange.

"And you know what, bhayya? Galiya means not just a gali; it's showing our emotions. In appropriate language, it is called gali," she continued her galiya purana, and everyone in the restaurant was looking at us. Damn, it's embarrassing. This is the second emotion I've felt today. First, I felt pity for that boy, and now this. Enough is enough.

Now I am done; it's time to show some cruelty to her. Let's see how strong she is.

"ENOUGH!" I said in my cold and deep voice.

"If you people are done with your nonsense, then read these papers," I said, handing her the contract papers. When Abrahm tried to stop me, I dared him with a look, and he instantly backed out from his decision to intervene.

Now I can see her eyes glued to those papers. Yes, she is utterly shocked by the clauses. Yes, it's Arjun Srivastav's decision and style to make things clear before it's done.

First, tears brimmed from her eyes, then turned into anger, but it didn't affect me because I don't have any heart (then how can blood be pumping, Mr. Srivastav?). As I said before, I am a demon, not a human. So, Miss Beautiful Lady, stay away from me because my aura itself says I am a danger.

---

Pallavi's POV

I came to the restaurant to meet Adhimanav kahika on the insistence of my Massi, and we started eating our lunch.

I could sense he didn't like me.

That's okay; I am not a girl who wants to impress men with my looks. I am who I am. I don't even like your aura, Mr. Akdu Srivastav. I am not dying to marry you; go and get a life, bro.

I thought to myself, but Abrahm bhayya is too good. I always wanted an elder brother like him. Even I have Prateeksh in my life, but he is younger than me. Of course, he loves me to the core, but I am just like his mother figure. I never get pampered by anyone in my life, but being around Abrahm bhayya, I felt that brotherly warmth.

When we were in our friendly talk, I flinched at his roar.

"ENOUGH!" he said in his cold voice. Maybe this guy was born in November or December; otherwise, how can anyone be this cold?

He handed me some papers, which left me speechless for the first few seconds, and then tears brimmed from my eyes, turning into anger.

Yes, they are pre-nup agreement papers; that means divorce even before the marriage??

I read the first clause, which made me regret my decision to come here.

"This marriage will be valid for one year; after that, this marriage will be invalid in all circumstances."

What the hell is this? A marriage like a job contract, only valid for one year? My eyes fell on the second clause.

"She can't use my name/surname/family name for her personal profit after this one year."

How can anyone be so cheap? What does this guy think of himself?

"She can't receive any love, affection, or anything else other than money and a luxurious life in this one year."

Now that's it; I can't control myself from breaking his head with this expensive dinner set.

"She can't seduce me for her benefits; if so, I am not responsible for any further consequences."

I read three more clauses like this and really wanted to break his head, arms, and legs. What the f**? Ram ram rama, yeh kya soch rahi hun?* This dhaanav prani dhust prani doesn't deserve me.

I silently took my bag and glared at Abrahm bhayya, who was already drowning in guilt. I headed toward the main entrance but returned to the table. I pulled out some money from my bag and placed it on the table in front of him. I gave 300 rupees to that dust prani-okay, okay, not 300, but 280 rupees: 250 rupees for my meal and 30 rupees for his mental treatment; he really needs it.

Then I left and stepped onto the road, which was filled with traffic and honking sounds. My head was blank. I didn't know where to go. I wanted to crush myself in my arms and cry badly. I didn't have the habit of crying in front of anyone; I only cried alone.

Just then, my phone rang; it was Massi. I picked up the call. What if it's an emergency? Because of the traffic noise, I couldn't hear her voice clearly.

"Hello baccha, did you meet him? Is he good? Do you like him?" she bombarded me with questions, and right now, I wasn't able to collect my words.

I tried to be normal, but that wasn't happening.

"Ma... Massi, mein ra... road par hun... I will call you later," I did my best to hold back my tears.

"Kya bolti ho baccha? I can't hear you!"

"Beech sadak par khadi hun, Massi, samajh nahi aa raha kya kar..." That was it; my patience limit came to an end, and I sat on the divider in the middle of the road, crying into my palms.

---

Author's POV

In a restaurant...

"She must be hurt," Abrahm said while glaring at Arjun.

"That is good for her," Arjun replied, scrolling through his phone.

"You know what? You don't deserve her," said Abrahm.

"Tell me something I don't know," Arjun replied.

"You bloody coward, you fucking escapist, you shitty sadist," Abrahm said, following it up with two or three other beautiful words, which made Arjun's lips twitch.

"Why are you smiling now? You bloody ass," he scoffed at him.

"Finally, galiya dena seekh gaya, mera baccha," Arjun teased him, who was already bewildered.

"Fck,*" Abrahm cursed again.

"For that, you have to find a girl, only if you are interested in girls," Arjun said, getting up from his seat and putting on his overcoat.

Abrahm kicked the table, causing all the bowls to fall to the floor. Arjun gave his card to cover the expenses and left.

---

At night,

Pallavi saw Prateeksh sleeping beside her, ruffling his hair, and called Neil 11 times, but it was unreachable. As expected, during a mission, they aren't allowed personal phones.

Pallavi lost in her thoughts...

"Neil bhai, where are you? I really need you in this situation," she thought, still ruffling Prateeksh's hair.

"What if Neil bhai is involved in important work? What if he can't arrange the money in time? How can I arrange money in such a short span of time?" A shiver ran down her spine at that thought.

"Ab tere paas do hi options hai, Pallu. Whether you have to marry that dusht prani and save your child, or you have to wait for Neil bhayya to come back." She lost herself in thought when she suddenly heard a voice in the otherwise silent room.

"Toh tum beech ka raasta nikal de." ("Then you find a middle path.") She turned her head towards the source of the voice but didn't recognize anyone in the room.

"Yaha mirror mein, I am here." ("Here in the mirror, I am here.") She instantly turned her head towards the mirror and saw her reflection, dressed in another outfit.

"I am your soul sister, sweetheart," that reflection said to Pallavi.

"Toh main keh rahi hoon ki kyun na tum beech ka rasta nikalo? Dekho, log jaise Arjun sochte hain ki wo ladki sirf koi gudiya hai jo unki ungliyon par nach sakti hai, par unhe nahi pata ki wo aurat asal mein kya hai?" ("So I'm saying, why not find a middle path? People like Arjun think that girl is nothing but a doll who can dance on their fingers, but they don't know what woman she actually is?") the reflection said to Pallavi.

"What do you want to say?" Pallavi scoffed.

"Yehi, sweetheart, ki show that Arjun that you are not an abla naari who cries and ignores her insult." ("This, sweetheart, is to show Arjun that you are not a helpless woman who cries and ignores her insult.") The reflection eyed Pallavi. "Come on, sweetheart, you are Pallavi... Pallavi Krishnan. Show him the taste of his own medicine."

Her words made Pallavi think about the deal, and an evil smirk appeared on her face.

"Sahi kaha tumne. If a woman can be Maa Laxmi, then she can be Maa Durga too. If a woman can be Maa Annapurna, then she can show her Chandi side too. If a woman can be Maa Saraswati, then she can show her Khali avatar too. And now it's time to show the real Pallavi to you, Mr. Akdu Srivastav." She resolved to herself.

She immediately took her phone and went to the balcony, calling Abrahm. They had exchanged numbers at the restaurant.

"I am really sorry, baccha, for what that moron did," he exclaimed before she could say anything.

"Abrahm bhayya, I know it's not your fault, but-" she stopped mid-sentence, and Abrahm sighed for a second.

"But what? Karna kya chahte ho?" ("But what? What do you want to do?") Abrahm asked.

"If it's in my hand, I want to kill him, but I can't afford to go to jail for that old fool," she said with an annoyed tone.

"Then go for it; I will arrange the bail," he joked, which instantly brought a smile to her face.

"Then arrange a meeting with him tomorrow," she said.

"Saath mein gun ko bhi arrange kar doon?" ("Should I arrange a gun too?") he teased, and she chuckled.

"Nahi, abhi nahi, lekin baad mein jarurat pad sakti hai." ("No, not right now, but it might be needed later.") she replied.

They talked for some time before hanging up.

---

"So, Mr. Srivastav, mein yeh shadi karne ke liye ready hoon, but I have my terms and conditions too," she said while sitting in front of him in a coffee shop.

"I can see your guts, lady," he said. "Mujhe laga ki wo kabhi meri shakal dekhna nahi chahti." ("I thought she would never want to see my face.") he thought to himself.

"Well, this is only the beginning, Mr. Srivastav."

"So, my first clause," she paused, and he narrowed his eyes, covering his lips behind his waving fingers.

"You can't force me for anything after marriage, neither physically nor mentally," she stated. In response, he nodded.

"Next one: my self-respect and my family's reputation are more important than anything in this world, so I expect the same respect from you towards my family as I give to yours. If I feel even 0.0000001 percent disrespect towards me or my family, then I will not be bound to any contract. Mark that clear in the agreement," she said with an authoritative tone, and his lips twitched a little before he covered them with a cold expression.

"And the most important clause: I am an independent woman, so after marriage, I will take care of my family. I will work after marriage, and I am not asking permission from you, Mr. Srivastav. I am just informing you." She was not less than a lioness, but he saw a glimpse of someone in her, albeit with the same empty eyes and cold face.

"And why do you think that I will agree to these conditions?" he questioned her back.

"Now it's up to you, Mr. Srivastav. Yeh shadi karni hai ya nahi, but don't blame me if the helpless woman was scared of the marriage-sorry, sorry, contract marriage-and ran away, hiding her face. Ayise delusion mein mat rehna." ("This marriage is either going to happen or not, but don't blame me if the helpless woman was scared of the marriage-sorry, sorry, contract marriage-and ran away, hiding her face. Don't stay in such delusions.") She too controlled her anger, while Aman and Abrahm, who were a little far away, exchanged glances at each other.

"Kya lagta hai, aaj yeh lady boss mar jayegi kya?" ("What do you think, will this lady boss die today?") Aman asked Abrahm.

"Hey Bhagwan, meri behen ki raksha karna," ("Oh God, protect my sister.") Abrahm said dramatically, folding his hands and praying to his favorite deity.

Their discussion was interrupted by a person who rushed to Arjun, holding his phone in hand. Perhaps he was one of his bodyguard replacements for Neil.

"Sir, it's important-a call from the minister's office," he said, trembling, as no one could predict the mood of Arjun Srivastav.

Arjun took the phone and held it near his ear, saying to Pallavi, "Ms. Krishnan, whether I will get good news from the other side, then I will add your clauses to the contract; otherwise..." He maintained his cold demeanor.

"Mr. Srivastav, the minister's PA said that he is terminating the contract with you, so the next tender is going to another company," the minister's PA said in a trembling tone.

Without responding, Arjun cut the call and said to Pallavi, "My assistant will come with a new contract that includes your clauses. Just sign it, and yes, don't drag this drama so far. Let's make it simple and clear." He stood up and turned away, keeping his sunglasses on.

"Aisa bhi kya good news mili hai inko? He agreed to these clauses? I thought he would back out after seeing my attitude, but he agreed. How is that possible?" she whispered to herself.

Aman and Abrahm congratulated her, not because of the alliance, but because she was still alive.

"Aman, use our contacts. By tomorrow, I want that minister to resign himself. Buy all MLAs, MPs, and nominate our man in place of that corrupt minister. He has to taste the wrath of Arjun Srivastav; he dared me by canceling our contract," Arjun ordered while clenching his jaw.

Aman nodded because he knew he was in a bad mood, but Abrahm didn't keep quiet; he asked in the middle of their important conversation, "So this is bad news; then why did you agree to this marriage?" He asked teasingly but earned a glare in return.

"And why do you think I will answer you every damn question?" Arjun replied in his cold, deep voice.

"Bcoz she reminded me of my mom today. She is a deadly combination of beauty, brain, and bravery, just like my mom," he thought to himself while looking out the window.

"Jo bhi ho, Prateeksh ka surgery ho jayega, and I will get free from this Adhimanav cage after one year," she thought to herself at the same time.

Okay, first of all, sorry because I tried to complete the marriage rituals in this chapter, but it's already too long, so we will continue the marriage hungama in the next chapter.

Here is a small spoiler alert for my story:

Everyone is waiting for a bride in the mandap, but they are shocked to see mafia king Arjun Srivastav himself bringing his bride to the mandap.

If you like the story, please vote and comment to encourage the writer. It really takes a lot of time to write a story.

Bye!