His Bride

8 | Unexpected Encounter

Dhruv's Pov

The silence in my office was broken as the door swung open, almost hitting the wall. No knock, no announcement—just pure disregard for basic courtesy.

"What the hell, Arjun?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. "Don't you have anything better to do in your own office?"

Arjun's smirk was infuriatingly smug. "Oh, come on, where's the fun in following the rules? Thought you'd be more thrilled to see me."

"Just cut to the chase," I said, folding my arms and fixing him with a cold stare, fully expecting him to test my patience further.

He gave a mock sigh, pretending to turn toward the door. "Fine, I'll leave. It's clear you're not interested in the juicy details I got on Ms. Arushi Mehara."

That caught my attention. "Wait!" The word slipped out before I could control it. "What about her?"

Arjun's smirk widened, satisfied he'd hooked me. "Ah, so now you're interested!" He leaned casually against my desk, looking entirely too pleased with himself, before launching into a story. He told me what had happened with Arushi at the school today—her, her daughter, and a check.

"And here's the kicker," he continued, lowering his voice as if sharing a conspiracy. "I dug a little deeper. Her bank account? It's vast, Dhruv. We're talking about oceans of money. She's filthy rich, man."

I processed that in silence, my mind racing as he dropped more details. So Arushi Mehara wasn't just anyone; she was loaded.

Arjun's voice dropped even lower. "Oh, and there's one more thing..."

I raised an eyebrow, recognizing the suspense-building tactic he loved. "Spit it out."

He paused dramatically, savoring the moment. "The kid who insulted her daughter, his father went bankrupt this morning."

That jolted me. "What? How?"

His reply came in one whispered word. "Trivarna."

The name sent a shock through me, heavy with implications. Trivarna wasn't just any raw agent—it was a name that spelled power, leverage, and ruthlessness.

I was shocked to find new things about her. And it interested me more on her. I should make her mine.

Arushi's POV

As promised, I took Aadhya to the temple today. It wasn't just any temple—this one was dedicated to Goddess Durga, renowned for its power and sanctity. While Aadhya believed wholeheartedly in Lord Shiva, I had long since stopped believing in any divine power. Faith, for me, was a relic of a time gone by.

Draped in a simple saree, I held Aadhya's hand as she skipped beside me in her white frock, which ended just at her knees. Her innocence seemed to glow in the temple's soft light. As we walked in, she closed her eyes, whispering prayers with such sincerity that, for a moment, I felt a strange calmness. Watching her in such deep devotion filled me with an inexplicable peace.

"Mama, wait here. I'll be right back!" she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Before I could respond, she dashed inside the temple, eager to complete her rituals.

While I waited, I took in the temple's surroundings, lost in thought until a voice interrupted my reverie.

"Ms. Mehara."

I turned, recognizing the voice almost immediately. There, standing with a welcoming smile, was Radhika Chauhan. She had been one of the dignitaries at my graduation ceremony years ago—a figure I remembered with respect.

"Ms. Chauhan, what a pleasure to see you here!" I said, extending my hand warmly.

She grasped it with a firm but kind hold. "Indeed, it is, child. How have you been? And what are you up to these days?"

Before I could reply, Aadhya came bounding over, her small fingers wrapping around my hand protectively as she eyed Ms. Chauhan with curiosity.

I gently introduced them. "This is my daughter, Aradhya Mehara."

Ms. Chauhan's face softened as she crouched down to Aadhya's level. "Well, aren't you the sweetest thing!" she said, reaching her arms out, which Aadhya hesitantly accepted. "How old are you, dear?"

"Six," I answered for Aadhya as she shyly nestled against my side.

Ms. Chauhan's gaze shifted to me, a look of mild surprise in her eyes. "Were you... pregnant during graduation?"

I hesitated for a moment. "Aadhya was born two months before I graduated," I said, a faint smile accompanying my response. Memories of those days, filled with sleepless nights and relentless study, flickered in my mind.

"And her father?" Ms. Chauhan inquired gently, sensing the weight of the past in my voice.

I gave Aadhya's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Aadhya, could you go over there and buy a water bottle, please?" She nodded obediently and scampered off.

Once Aadhya was out of earshot, I took a breath before answering. "He... passed away," I said softly.

Ms. Chauhan's expression shifted to one of empathy. "I'm so sorry, dear."

"It's okay," I replied, managing a small nod. I had long since made peace with that part of my life, or so I tried to convince myself.

When Aadhya returned with her bottle, Ms. Chauhan and I wrapped up our conversation, exchanging pleasantries before saying goodbye. Taking Aadhya's hand once more, we made our way home, her chatter filling the air as I pushed aside the memories that the conversation had stirred.