The atmosphere in the Raichand mansion seemed heavy, as though the walls themselves held secrets they refused to share. Mannat had sensed this shift for days now, but tonight, it became impossible to ignore.
---
Armaan’s father, Vikram Raichand, called him to the study. The elder Raichand sat at his desk, his sharp gaze focused on Armaan as he entered. The faint sound of a grandfather clock ticking added to the tension.
Vikram: "Sit, Armaan. There’s something important to discuss."
Armaan casually leaned back in the chair, feigning nonchalance. "What now, Dad?"
Vikram leaned forward, his voice firm. "I’ve spoken to Mr. Kapoor. He’s agreed to a marriage alliance between you and his daughter, Sanjana. It’s a deal that will solidify our partnership and take our business empire to new heights."
Armaan’s smirk faded. "You’re joking, right? I have no interest in marrying for business deals."
Vikram: "This isn’t about interest, Armaan. It’s about responsibility. Sanjana is exactly the kind of partner you need—refined, influential, and capable of enhancing the Raichand legacy. Besides, she’s beautiful, intelligent, and loyal."
Armaan stood, a storm brewing in his chest. "Loyalty isn’t bought with marriage contracts, Dad. I won’t do this."
Vikram’s voice hardened. "You will do what’s necessary for this family. This is not up for debate."
Unbeknownst to them, Mannat stood just outside the slightly ajar door. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the words had pierced her like shards of glass. Armaan’s father was arranging his marriage with another woman? Her chest tightened, and tears blurred her vision.
---
Later that evening, Mannat found solace in the garden, where Ayaan, Armaan’s younger brother, sat sketching. Unlike Armaan’s fiery demeanor, Ayaan had always been calm and understanding—a breath of fresh air in the stormy Raichand household.
Ayaan: "You look upset, Mannat. Want to talk?"
Mannat hesitated before sitting beside him. "It’s nothing, Ayaan. Just...feeling out of place."
Ayaan tilted his head, studying her expression. "You’re terrible at lying. Is it Armaan again?"
She sighed, hugging her knees. "It’s always Armaan. But today, it’s more than that. Sometimes, it feels like I don’t belong here, like I’m just...filling space."
Ayaan set his sketchpad aside and gave her a reassuring smile. "You belong here more than you think, Mannat. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise—not even Armaan. You’ve brought warmth to this house, even if some of us are too stubborn to admit it."
His words brought a small smile to her face, but the ache in her heart remained. She wished she could tell him everything she’d overheard, but she didn’t want to burden him.
-
Inside the mansion, Sumitra, Armaan’s grandmother, sat in the living room with her daughter-in-law, Meera. Their faces were grim as they discussed a pressing issue.
Sumitra: "The company’s finances are not what they used to be. Vikram has been making risky investments, and now there’s talk of a potential loss in one of our overseas projects."
Meera frowned. "How bad is it, Maaji? Can we manage?"
Sumitra: "For now, yes. But if this continues, we might have to liquidate some assets. That’s why Vikram is pushing for Armaan’s marriage with Sanjana. The Kapoor alliance would bring in the capital we need."
"But is it fair to sacrifice Armaan’s happiness for money? Shouldn’t there be another way?"
Shanti Devi, "In this family, duty comes before happiness. We can’t let personal feelings jeopardize everything we’ve built."
Mannat, passing by, accidentally caught their conversation. She quickly moved away before they noticed her, her mind spinning with the weight of what she had just learned.
---
That night, Mannat was in her room when the door slammed open, startling her. Armaan stood in the doorway, his face dark with anger.
Armaan: "What exactly do you think you were doing outside the study earlier?"
Mannat’s heart raced. "I wasn’t trying to listen, Armaan. It just...happened."
He strode toward her, his presence overwhelming. "And what exactly did you hear?"
She met his gaze, her voice trembling but defiant. "Enough to know that your father wants you to marry someone else. Enough to know that I’m just...temporary in this house."
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Armaan: "You don’t get to decide what’s temporary and what’s not, Mannat. And you definitely don’t get to interfere in my life."
She took a step back as he advanced, her back hitting the wall. His proximity made her breath hitch.
Mannat: "Why are you doing this, Armaan? You say you hate me, but then you...you can’t seem to leave me alone. Why?"
His hand slammed against the wall beside her, his face inches from hers. His voice was low, almost a growl. "Because you’ve become a part of my chaos, And I don’t know if I want to destroy you...or protect you from it."
Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, the tension between them shifted. It wasn’t just anger—it was pain, confusion, and something else she couldn’t name.
Mannat: "You don’t have to fight me, Armaan. We’re on the same side, whether you like it or not."
His gaze softened briefly, but then he pushed away from her, as if disgusted by his own vulnerability.
Armaan: "Stay out of my way, That’s your only warning."
As he left, slamming the door behind him, Mannat sank to the floor, her heart pounding. She knew this wasn’t just about her anymore—there were secrets and stakes far greater than she had imagined.
---
Alone in his room, Armaan poured himself a glass of whiskey, staring out the window. His father’s words echoed in his mind, and so did Mannat’s. She had a way of getting under his skin, of making him question his choices.
Downstairs, Sumitra and Meera continued their discussion, unaware that the cracks in the Raichand family’s foundation were beginning to show.
And in her room, Mannat sat by the window, looking out at the night sky, her heart heavy with the weight of all she had overheard. She didn’t know how she would navigate this storm, but she resolved not to let it break her.
Little did she know, the storm had only just begun.
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