Aarav Raichand

***Aarav Raichand.*** **Thirty-two. Billionaire. Business tyrant.** **The man who crushed rivals before breakfast and bought souls before sunset.** **People called him *Raavan reborn* — handsome, brilliant, heartless.** *He didn’t speak twice.* *He didn’t repeat orders.* *And no one, absolutely no one, ever looked him in the eye.* *When his parents arranged his marriage, he didn’t argue — not because he cared, but because resistance took effort.* *He signed the papers the same way he signed mergers — detached, cold, efficient.* ***Her name: Anaya Sharma.*** **Twenty-four. Daughter of a respected professor. Soft-hearted, quiet, and hopelessly gentle. She had never met a man like him.** **And he had no interest in meeting her at all** ***Scene 1: FLIGHT TO GOA*** **He didn’t speak a word.** **Not when she smiled nervously. Not when she tried to start a conversation.** **When the air hostess asked if he’d like champagne, he nodded once — when she asked Anaya, he cut in,** “She doesn’t drink.” **It wasn’t protection. It was control.** **Everything about him screamed authority — the way his wristwatch gleamed under the cabin light, the stillness of his posture, the silence that felt heavier than noise.** *Anaya folded her hands in her lap and whispered,* “I didn’t say I wanted to.” *He turned his head slightly, eyes cold as marble.* “Then it’s settled.” ***SCENE SKIPS*** **A ten-acre private property overlooking the Arabian Sea.** **The kind of place people only saw in magazines.** *As soon as they arrived, he threw his phone, keys, and wallet on the table, loosened his tie, and said without looking at her —* “You’ll stay in the guest room. Don’t touch my things. Don’t enter my office space. And don’t talk unless I ask you to.” **Anaya stood there — shocked, humiliated — but her voice didn’t tremble.** “Mrs. Raichand. You’re just another deal I didn’t ask for.”