His Bride

15 / The Solution

Dhruv's POV

Arushi sat across from me, her fiery gaze piercing through the tense silence that hung in the room. For a moment, I let myself absorb the gravity of the situation. This wasn't a simple decision—it was a monumental shift for both of us. But now, both she and her daughter were my responsibility. The weight of that fact pressed heavily on me, but I knew I was ready to carry it.

"I have a solution to your problems," I said finally, breaking the silence with a measured tone.

Her eyebrows arched, wary and suspicious. Her eyes held a storm of defiance, but I didn't falter. "Marry me," I said, my voice steady and firm.

The room felt like it had dropped a few degrees as her expression transformed in an instant. Shock. Anger. Disbelief. They flashed across her face like a whirlwind. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists.

"Are you serious?" she demanded, her voice low but dripping with venom. "It won't take me long to put a bullet between your eyes." The fury in her tone was palpable, and for a brief moment, I thought she might follow through on the threat.

"Arushi, calm down," the chief interjected, his voice an anchor in the growing storm. But I could see her tension; she was far from calm.

I leaned forward slightly, meeting her fiery gaze with unwavering composure. "Listen to me, Arushi. By marrying me, you are marrying the King of Rajasthan. You will be my queen, and Aadhi will become our daughter—the princess of Rajasthan. She will also be known as the daughter of the Don in the underworld. No one would dare lay a finger on her. She'll have protection, power, and respect—things no one can take away from her."

Her lips parted as if to retort, but the chief interrupted. "Arushi, I think he's right," he said carefully, his words measured. "If the world knows Aadhi as his daughter, they'll think twice before striking. It's the best protection you can give her right now."

I watched as the anger on her face softened, replaced by a flicker of doubt and hesitation. Her gaze shifted to the floor, and I could tell her mind was waging a war between her pride and her maternal instincts. She was a mother first, a fighter second, and Aadhi's safety was her weakness—one I was willing to protect.

"Fine," she said finally, her voice quieter but no less resolute. "Only for her. This is for Aadhi, not for you." Her eyes narrowed at me as she continued. "But there will be conditions. We'll sign a contract."

"Agreed," I said with a nod, grateful that she had taken the first step toward accepting my proposal. "I'll have my assistant draft the contract immediately."

Still, there were things I needed to know—pieces of her life that were still cloaked in shadows. "I need some details about you and Aadhi," I told her, my voice firm but not demanding.

Her gaze snapped to mine, cold and guarded. "Forget my real identity," she said, her voice like steel. "I am Arushi Mehara. An orphan. Studied in Oxford and even completed my PhD there in English. Aaradhya Mehara, my daughter, was born six years ago. That's all you need to know."

Her words were clipped, as if she was drawing a line I wasn't allowed to cross. But there was one question I couldn't leave unasked. "Her father?" I asked, my tone softer this time.

Her jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. Then, with a single word, she shut the door on that part of her past. "Dead."

Something in her tone warned me not to push further, so I didn't. Instead, I focused on the promise I was making. "From this moment on," I said firmly, "she is my daughter. And no one will dare touch her."

Arushi's gaze lingered on me, still searching for cracks in my resolve, but I held steady. After a moment, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. I reached for my phone. "My assistant will bring the contract shortly," I said, ending the discussion.

As I watched her, I saw more than just a woman fighting for her child's safety. I saw strength, resilience, and an undeniable fire. This wasn't going to be an easy journey, but I'd made my decision. Arushi Mehara and her daughter were mine now, and I wouldn't let anything or anyone threaten them.

We both signed the papers in silence, the sound of pen scratching against paper echoing through the room like a final verdict. As I lifted my gaze, I saw her hand hesitate for the briefest moment before she completed her signature. The moment the ink dried, the weight of the decision settled over both of us.

She was mine now—my bride. And Aadhi, her precious daughter, was now my daughter too. The gravity of those words lingered in my mind. Not just a responsibility, but a bond I had willingly chosen to forge. Arushi had entered my world, one where power and danger walked hand in hand. She didn't know it yet, but I would shield her and Aadhi from every shadow that loomed over us.

Arushi looked up at me, her expression guarded yet unreadable. She was a fortress, every wall of hers built to protect herself and her daughter. I knew better than to expect her trust or affection right away. This was a pact born out of necessity, not love. Yet, as I watched her, I couldn't help but admire her strength—the strength of a woman who had fought for her child against every odd.

"I hope you know what you've signed up for," she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was steady, her eyes daring me to falter.

"I do," I replied with equal firmness, leaning back in my chair. "And I intend to uphold every promise I've made. You're mine now, Arushi. You and Aadhi. I will protect you both with everything I have."

She scoffed softly, folding her arms across her chest. "We're not yours. This is just a contract."

Her defiance only made me smirk. "A contract or not, you carry my name now, and Aadhi carries my legacy. Whether you like it or not, the world will see you as my queen and her as my princess. That makes you mine, Arushi."

She narrowed her eyes at me but said nothing, her silence speaking volumes. She didn't trust me, not yet. But I didn't need her trust right now—I just needed her cooperation. The rest would come in time. Or so I hoped.

As for Aadhi, she was the innocent in all of this. The little girl who had unknowingly become the center of this arrangement. I promised myself then and there that she would never feel the weight of the world I lived in. She would be loved, protected, and cherished—everything a child deserved.

For now, though, I would let Arushi hold on to her walls. She would learn soon enough that no matter how high she built them, I would break through. Because whether she accepted it or not, she was my bride now. And I never let what's mine slip away.