Tere Liye

Aditya

The evening air was crisp as I stepped out of the café, the scent of chai and freshly baked pastries still clinging to the fabric of the place. But my mind wasn't on the aromas or the bustling streets around me. It was on her—Akshara Sharma.

I couldn't decide if she was brave or foolish. No one spoke to me like that, not in my boardrooms, not in my personal life, and certainly not in a casual café where the stakes were supposed to be low. Yet, there she was, sitting across from me with fire in her eyes, refusing to back down.

Her defiance was unexpected. Women in her position—young, sheltered, and tied by family obligations—usually bent to the will of someone like me. But Akshara... she had surprised me. And I hated surprises.

Her words echoed in my mind. " You think you can just walk in here and dictate the terms? This isn't a business deal, Aditya!"

I smirked to myself as I crossed the street, the sound of traffic filling the silence. She didn't realize it yet, but everything was a business deal. Life itself was a negotiation, and I had mastered it. Still, her defiance had stirred something within me—a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

The way she had challenged me, as though she were my equal, was... amusing. Naïve, but amusing. I couldn't decide whether to crush her spirit or respect her tenacity. Perhaps I'd do both.

" When you step into the lion's den," my father used to say, " you either become the lion or you get eaten alive." Akshara Sharma might have had the courage to enter the den, but she wasn't a lion. Not yet.

As I climbed into the backseat of my car, the driver wordlessly pulling away from the curb, I found myself replaying the scene in my head. Her flushed cheeks when she was angry. The way her voice trembled but never broke. It wasn't just anger I saw in her eyes—it was determination.

"She's hiding something," I murmured to myself, my fingers drumming against the leather seat.

"Sir?" the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

"Nothing," I replied sharply, dismissing him.

I couldn't shake the feeling that Akshara was more than she seemed. The thought was both infuriating and intriguing. I wasn't a man who liked mysteries. I liked facts, clarity, control. And right now, Akshara was a puzzle—one I intended to solve.

Her defiance had been refreshing, even if it was misguided. But she would learn. She would learn that standing against me was a battle she couldn't win.

"People think fire is what destroys," my mentor once told me. " But it's ice. Silent, slow, and inevitable." I leaned back, staring out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white. Akshara might have had her moment of rebellion, but she would soon realize that I wasn't the kind of man who let anyone hold the upper hand.

This wasn't just a marriage of convenience anymore. It was a game. And if she thought she could challenge me, she'd better be prepared to lose.

Because in the end, I always played to win.

The days that followed our first meeting were a blur of work and strategy, but Akshara's face lingered in the back of my mind, distracting me more than I cared to admit.

She had been different than I expected—angry, defiant, but also... strong in her own quiet way. Most women I dealt with were passive, agreeable, compliant. They knew their place. But Akshara? She was something else entirely. Something unsettling.

I leaned over the polished surface of my desk, tapping a pen against the wood as I reviewed the financial reports laid out before me. The numbers didn't matter. They never did, not when my thoughts kept returning to that café. The way she stood her ground, the fire in her voice, and the subtle challenge that still lingered between us.