Vardhan's Bride

Chapter 1: A Deal with Destiny

The soft rustle of silk filled the air as Sayantika stood before the mirror, staring at the reflection of a girl she barely recognized. Dressed in a deep maroon bridal saree, the heavy gold jewelry weighed her down, not just physically but emotionally. The intricate embroidery on the saree, the matching bangles, and the shimmering veil over her head were symbols of a fate she had not chosen for herself. A fate sealed by her stepmother and the powerful Malhotra family.

Sayantika was marrying Harshvardhan Malhotra—a man she had never met, a man she knew only by reputation. His name alone sent shivers through people. The ruthless CEO of Malhotra Industries, a man whose first marriage had ended in betrayal, leaving him cold and cynical. A man who no longer believed in love or even the institution of marriage. And yet, here she was, bound to him in a union that felt more like a business transaction than a marriage.

"Sayantika," a sharp voice interrupted her thoughts. Her stepmother, Pratima, walked into the room, her face as hard as stone. "Stop wasting time staring at yourself. The Malhotras are waiting. This marriage is the best thing that could have happened to you, so don't ruin it with your emotional nonsense."

Sayantika turned to face her stepmother, feeling a wave of resentment but knowing better than to argue. Ever since her father had passed away, Pratima had controlled every aspect of her life, manipulating situations to suit her own financial ambitions. For Pratima, this marriage was a golden ticket to a life of luxury and influence. For Sayantika, it was the beginning of a life she had never imagined—an arranged marriage with a man she knew only through whispers of his cold heart and ruthless business practices.

Sayantika swallowed her fear and nodded silently, her heart pounding in her chest. She was a puppet, and today was the day her strings would be pulled tighter than ever before.

The wedding venue was nothing short of grand. Lavish chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the expansive hall, casting a warm glow on the hundreds of guests. The Malhotras had spared no expense in creating a spectacle, but to Sayantika, it all felt distant, like a dream she couldn't wake from. She walked down the aisle, each step heavier than the last, her eyes scanning the faces of strangers who were now bound to her through Harshvardhan.

At the end of the aisle, Harshvardhan stood tall, his broad shoulders stiff under the weight of his finely tailored sherwani. His face was unreadable—cold, detached, almost as though he were attending a business meeting rather than his own wedding. Sayantika had seen pictures of him, of course, but the photographs did little justice to the intimidating aura he exuded in person. He was handsome, yes, with sharp features and a strong jawline, but his expression was a fortress, walls built high and impenetrable.

As Sayantika approached, her heart fluttered uncontrollably. Would he even acknowledge her presence? Or was she just another pawn in the chessboard of his life, a piece to be moved at will?

"Do you, Harshvardhan Malhotra, take Sayantika Kapoor as your lawfully wedded wife?" The priest's voice cut through the silence.

Harshvardhan's gaze shifted from the ground to her face for the first time. His eyes, a piercing shade of dark brown, held no warmth, no affection. Yet they were filled with a sense of duty—perhaps even a sense of resignation. His words, when they came, were measured and devoid of emotion.

"I do."

Sayantika's breath hitched, and she barely managed to respond when it was her turn to speak. Her voice trembled as she whispered, "I do."

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Vows were exchanged, rituals performed, and by the time Sayantika realized what had happened, she was officially Sayantika Malhotra—the wife of Harshvardhan Malhotra, a man who had not once shown her any kindness.