"The people around me think I am cold when all I am is sad only."

Behind every successful man, there is a woman. Atharva had heard from his father and Maria countless times. He might have believed their words in another life, but he would never agree in this one, not even in his dreams unless he was cracking a joke, of course. He was well aware that women only flocked to successful men.

For purely selfish reasons.

If only others could see the truth, the world would be a better place.

The shrill ringtone of the alarm jolted Atharva out of his reverie. He stopped his stare-down battle with the ceiling and rolled out of the bed, stretching his arms above his head. It wouldn't be long before his high blood pressure threw him off, courtesy of his father, the cause of his stress.

After taking a quick shower, he wrapped a towel around his hips and strode to the kitchen. He still had over an hour left for his office to begin, but he didn't want to be late, so he started preparing his usual breakfast; coffee and scrambled eggs.

With his role as the company's CEO, he could arrive and leave anytime he preferred, but he was the epitome of perfection. He did everything exactly the way it should be done. And that was why he was admired so much, for his hard work and dedication. Everyone either wanted to be like the businessman he was or wanted to be with him. After all, money was the ultimate power.

Being a workaholic was turning out to be tough with added pressure from his father for marriage. He was skipping sleep night after night, which led to a consistent headache that had no cure. But work was the only thing that kept him sane. It spared him from getting absorbed in darkness, so he never complained.

Sitting on the kitchen stool, he wolfed down his breakfast, all the while scrolling through his company's current status on his tablet.

He heard a soft ping and glanced down at his phone.

8:12 AM
You're getting married within a week. If you disagree, you'll be stripped of your responsibilities, and all the business will be handed over to Nisha.

Atharva stopped mid-chew and stared at the message incredulously. He couldn't believe his eyes, for he never thought his father would stoop to the extent of blackmailing him. His father knew how much he adored this company, and now he was ready to snatch the only thing Atharva had, just because he wanted a wedding ceremony.

Anger coursed through his veins like hot liquid, and his hand itched to smash his phone into tiny pieces.

Nisha, his stepsister, was just like her mother, sweet on the outside but bitchy on the inner side. He hated both of them. Surrendering his company to such a pitiful excuse for a human was unbearable. He would do anything to keep it, whatever the cost, even marry a stranger. The thought of resisting crossed his mind, but recalling his father's endless nagging, he knew it would be futile.

8:15 AM
Fine, Dad! I'll do it.

He responded to the message his father sent and not even two seconds later, his phone rang. He answered the call, rather unwillingly.

"Son, are you serious? Did you just agree for the marriage?" his father expressed loudly, his voice fused with excitement and disbelief.

"Yes," Atharva replied, sounding cold and curt, when all he wanted was to state otherwise. His father was acting like he didn't just blackmail his only son. Atharva didn't expect this treatment, this torture, but he had worked hard to be where he was today. He couldn't just give up because of his father's stubbornness.

"Ok, good. I am sure you haven't seen her picture, so please take a look at it. You'll love her, I promise. I'll meet you in the office to discuss and plan a few things," he said, dismissing Atharva's tone of voice. Harshvardhan was guilt-ridden and not a single day had passed without him thinking about the 11-year-old Atharva, who had been completely shattered after his mother's death. Harshvardhan should have been there to take care of him, but he was so occupied in drowning himself in alcohol, he had abandoned Atharva. He wanted to make it up, to replenish their father-son bond. He knew getting Atharva married to the girl of his choice was the best shot he could give him after all those years of physical and emotional neglect towards him.

"I will be waiting." Atharva hung up, not letting his father say a word more.

He felt hurt, and that was his way of expressing it. He didn't care if he came across as arrogant and rude. His father didn't have the right to interfere and propose an arranged marriage.

Carrying his plate and mug to the sink, he rinsed them, then placed them inside the cupboard before scurrying to his room. He had already ironed his clothes and placed them on his bed. Grey shirt, black slacks, black tie, and a black suit with tan shoes.

Though he was rich, he was very modest, and did everything himself, never considering any work to be beneath his dignity.

Running his fingers through his hair one last time, he put his laptop and files inside his briefcase and drove to his office in his black Aston Martin DB9.

The staff greeted him on the way and like any other day, he simply nodded in return and entered his cabin.

He recalled his father telling him to open the envelope but he didn't. He was getting married only to keep the company, not to have any relationship with the woman. As such, she was of no interest to him. There would never be any love between them.

He rechecked the papers inside the file before buzzing Pranav, his PA.

"I need a photocopy of this in 10 minutes. Hurry up."

Pranav took the file and rushed out.

Atharva never interacted with anyone more than he needed to. His father and Maria were the only exceptions. Though his father had left him alone for years, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at his father, after all, he had lost his wife. The wife he loved so much, with all his heart. He had seen how devastated his father was, returning home very late at night, his legs wobbly, eyes red and puffy with dark bags underneath them and a bottle of alcohol in his hand. But it wasn't like his father continued to be that way. He had soon realized what a mistake he was committing when Atharva became undeniably quiet and his company went down. He quit alcohol, gathered himself together, and became a better man. A man Atharva proudly called 'dad' today.

"I am so happy, son. This feels like a dream!" The door burst open, snapping him out of his thoughts. He shook his head and watched his father speed in with a bright smile on his face, grabbing Atharva for a hug.

Atharva stiffened and gulped down the lump in his throat before awkwardly hugging him back.

"Shall we discuss?" he suggested, stepping away quickly. His father nodded, grinning from ear to ear like a child who had received the best gift on Christmas from Santa.

"Alright, son. I want the wedding to be grand, something amazing that hasn't been witnessed to date. All the people should attend it. What location do you think will be best? Beach, hotel—" Harshvardhan spoke after taking a seat behind the table, but Atharva cut him off.

"I want a simple wedding, only the woman and our families," he specified, staring straight into his father's eyes.

His father stared back for a moment before breaking eye contact and letting out a heavy sigh. "Ok, I'll discuss it with them. But the wedding reception has to be impressive, no compromise there. Media will be present with everyone else."

Atharva groaned but agreed. He could stay at the party for a few hours and get out of there before anybody could notice his absence in the swarm of people.

"I have one more condition. I will not attend other rituals, including the engagement ceremony."

Harshvardhan shook his head, now glaring at Atharva, his smile lost in his son's nonsensical words. "Why hold the wedding ceremony then? Let's call it off, huh?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Atharva! You know your demand is impossible. It will hurt the bride and her family."

"Look, Dad. I agreed with you. Now it's your turn. Tell them anything. Make some excuses. But don't expect more from me."

"Fine."

"Good. You can do the arrangements yourself. I need to get back to work, so if you'll excuse me," he said and turned to his laptop, not giving a second glance to his father. Harshvardhan glowered and exited the cabin with a sour mood.

Pranav came back with the papers and handed them to Atharva who glared at him coldly.

"You are five minutes late."

Gulping in fear, Pranav looked down. "Sorry, sir. I won't be late next time," his voice was merely audible, and Atharva had to strain his ears to catch the words.

"Schedule a meeting with Mr. Patel. We are investing in their restaurant startup."

"Ok, yes. I will do it right away, sir!" Pranav hurriedly muttered, nodding vigorously.

Atharva did maintain an emotionless, cold facade with his staff, but he didn't get why people feared him. It wasn't like he would kill them, maybe chuck them out of their jobs but killing was a slight exaggeration.

Maybe I look like a monster? He thought and gave a mirthless laugh.

His phone pinged again and he glared at the screen.

08:57 AM
9040×××××× is Aahana's number. You both should get to know each other.

He ignored the message but couldn't help himself from testing the name on his tongue.

"Aahana." It rolled off smoothly.

He found her name to be beautiful but that didn't mean his opinion would suddenly change. Nope, he was going to behave with her the same way he behaved with others. Cold and distant.

Why treat her differently, huh? Just because she was getting married to him and was his soon-to-be wife, didn't affect anything. After all, she was a woman. And he hated the chaos called females with every fiber of his being and preferred to stay away from them, for only he knew why.

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