Chapter 1

Agastya Kapoor sat patiently in the hospital’s private waiting room, his hands clasped together as he stared at the floor, deep in thought. When he first arrived, Neeraj Rai had refused to meet him, assuming he was just another businessman here to discuss deals. But when he learned that it was Agastya Kapoor and that he was there to help the Rai heiress, Neeraj quickly changed his mind.

Agastya looked up at the sound of the door opening. Neeraj Rai entered the room, wheeling himself in with a determined but weary expression. Agastya noticed the deep lines of worry etched into Neeraj's face, the weight of the situation clearly overwhelming him. The once-strong man seemed burdened by the fear and distress that hung heavily in the air.

Agastya stood up as Neeraj Rai entered, extending his hand in a gesture of respect. “I’ll get straight to the point, sir,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “I’m here with a proposal.”

Neeraj looked at him, confused but intrigued, waiting for Agastya to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Agastya spoke with clear intent. “I would like to marry your daughter, Urvi Rai. But only for two years, until she turns 21.”

Neeraj's eyes widened in shock, but Agastya pressed on, explaining the marriage clause. “According to the terms of her inheritance, if Urvi marries before the age of 21, fifty percent of her inherited property from Aaraa will be held in trust for any child born from the marriage until they reach 21. Until then, I, as her spouse, would manage these assets to ensure her safety and well-being.”

He paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. “This arrangement will protect Urvi from those who wish her harm, giving her the security she needs until she is old enough to fully control her inheritance. Once she turns 21, all of it will be hers, free and clear. This isn’t just about marriage—it’s about safeguarding her future.”

Neeraj stared at Agastya, processing the weight of his words, the enormity of the decision that lay before him.

Neeraj Rai sat there, shell-shocked, his mind reeling from what he had just heard. Confused and lost, he finally found his voice, though it came out as a mere whisper. “Are you serious?”

Agastya Kapoor nodded, his expression unwavering.

“Why do you want to help us?” Neeraj asked, his voice filled with both suspicion and desperation.

Agastya grew silent for a moment, considering his response. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured and calm. “Time will tell, Mr. Rai. Rest assured, I have nothing to gain from this. No hidden intentions.”

He searched Agastya’s face for any sign of deceit, but all he saw was a man who appeared determined to protect his daughter. Still, doubt gnawed at him, but so did the fear of what might happen to Urvi if he refused.

Neeraj Rai straightened in his wheelchair, his initial shock giving way to a firmer resolve. “I still want to know why you want to do this,” he demanded, his voice stronger, more insistent.

Agastya met Neeraj’s gaze, his expression serious. He knew this question was coming, and he had prepared himself for it.

“You helped my father twenty years ago when no one else would. Not even a penny,” he said. “And now, I would like to repay your help and kindness.” He added.

While the reason he gave was true, it wasn’t the real motivation behind his decision. That truth, however, was something he intended to take with him to the grave.

Neeraj looked at him, still trying to understand the true motive behind Agastya’s offer. The memory of his father’s past gratitude was real, but it didn’t explain the depth of Agastya’s commitment now. Yet, even as Neeraj searched for answers, Agastya remained resolute, keeping his reasons locked away, leaving Neeraj with only a choice: to trust the man before him or to turn him away.

Hours passed, and Urvi slowly regained consciousness. Pain shot through her body from her fractured ankle and hand, and her busted lips made it nearly impossible to keep from wincing. Her eyes felt heavy as she scanned the unfamiliar hospital room. Her father sat by her bedside, his eyes bloodshot, as if he had spent hours crying. Beside him was her aunt, her face full of concern.

But then, Urvi’s gaze shifted to a man she didn’t recognize. He was leaning casually against the door frame, dressed in a perfectly tailored business suit. Tall, lean, and undeniably handsome—but what on earth was with that ridiculous small ponytail? She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

The stranger, noticing her reaction, smiled in amusement, his dark eyes gleaming. Urvi knitted her brows, scowling at him, trying to intimidate him with a fierce glare. But instead of backing off, the man chuckled softly, clearly entertained. The more she glared, the more he seemed amused, and he chuckled again, as if her frustration was a game.

Now she was mad.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat, breaking the strange tension in the room. It was her father. Urvi gave the stranger one last, pointed glare before reluctantly turning her attention to Neeraj.

Agastya was clearly amused by the little Missy. The moment she regained consciousness, she was already glaring at him, her attempt to intimidate him almost comical. He couldn’t help but smirk; this was the first time a woman wasn’t fawning over him or trying to charm her way into his good graces. Instead, here she was, scowling at him, all while looking unexpectedly adorable.

Normally, women threw themselves at him, doing everything they could to get his attention, often with one goal in mind. But this fiery glare from Urvi was something entirely new—and strangely refreshing.

"Who are you?" A soft yet firm voice broke through Agastya's thoughts. He looked up to find Urvi staring at him intently, her grey eyes piercing through him. For a moment, time seemed to slow. He could’ve stared into those eyes forever, and as his heart skipped a beat, a realisation hit him—his life was never going to be the same again.

"Agastya Kapoor," he said, his voice crisp and steady, though the moment had shaken him more than he let on. He began walking toward her, his gaze never leaving hers.

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