Chapter 1: The Proposal

"Marriage? Are you insane?"

Diya Kapoor had survived many disasters in her life—burned cakes, last-minute catering disasters, her mother's relentless matchmaking schemes—but this was a level of catastrophe she hadn't even imagined in her worst nightmares.

The grand ballroom of The Imperial Crown, Parth Malhotra's prestigious five-star hotel, was silent. Hundreds of high-profile guests stared at the scene before them—an extravagant wedding cake, custom-made for the event, lying in ruins on the marble floor.

And standing beside the disaster, covered in frosting and looking like a crime scene victim, was Diya Kapoor.

This is how I die.

The bride-to-be, the daughter of some millionaire businessman, was on the verge of a hysterical meltdown. Guests were whispering, journalists were taking pictures, and the hotel staff looked ready to faint.

But the most terrifying part of it all?

Parth Malhotra.

Standing a few feet away in a crisp, ridiculously expensive suit, Parth was silent, his sharp gaze locked onto Diya like a predator studying its prey.

His assistant, a nervous-looking man in glasses, whispered something to him.

Parth didn't react. He simply adjusted the cuffs of his suit and took slow, deliberate steps toward her.

The room held its breath.

Diya swallowed. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

This was not how her day was supposed to go.

---

Twenty minutes later, Diya sat across from Parth in his ridiculously intimidating office.

He hadn't said much yet—just dismissed the wedding party, assured the furious bride's family that the hotel would handle it, and then calmly instructed his assistant to "bring Ms. Roy to my office immediately."

Now, as she sat in the plush chair, still sticky from the cake disaster, she watched him with wary eyes.

He was doing that thing—the CEO stare. The kind of look that made employees resign out of fear before they were even fired.

"So," he said finally, his voice smooth but dangerously calm. "Do you have any idea how much that cake was worth?"

Diya winced. "Umm. A lot?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Try five lakh rupees."

Diya nearly choked. "Five LAKH? Are you baking cakes with diamonds in them?"

Parth's expression didn't change. "It was an imported, custom-designed cake by an award-winning pastry chef."

She groaned. "Okay, yeah, that sounds expensive."

He leaned forward, hands folded on the desk. "Since you caused the damage, I expect full compensation."

Diya went very still. "Full...compensation?"

"Yes."

She laughed awkwardly. "I don't even have five thousand rupees to spare. Do I look like someone who just walks around carrying five lakh?"

Parth's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we have a problem, Ms. Roy."

She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I swear it wasn't my fault. The waiter tripped, the table was wobbly—"

"Irrelevant," he interrupted coolly. "It was your catering company. You were responsible."

She groaned, her heart sinking. "Can't you just sue the catering company?"

"Your contract states that you were in charge of quality control."

Diya resisted the urge to scream. Of course. Because life just loved screwing her over.

"Okay, fine," she said, crossing her arms. "I can't pay you. So what now? Are you going to send me to pastry chef jail?"

Parth's gaze was unreadable. Then he leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if calculating something.

"I have an alternative proposition."

She frowned. "What?"

And then, he said the words that changed her life forever.

"Marry me."

---

The room went silent.

Diya blinked.

Then she let out a hysterical laugh. "I'm sorry, WHAT?"

Parth, the human embodiment of a corporate robot, barely flinched. "I need a wife. You need to clear your debt. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Diya stared at him like he had just told her the earth was flat.

"...Are you joking?"

He didn't blink. "I don't joke."

She waved her arms wildly. "You—You're seriously asking me to marry you?"

"Yes."

"Because I ruined a cake?"

"No," he said, exhaling sharply. "Because my grandfather is threatening to cut me out of my inheritance unless I settle down."

Diya blinked. "Oh. Wow. That sounds... like a you problem."

He ignored her sarcasm. "I need a wife for a year. After that, we divorce, and you're free to do whatever you want."

She stared at him, waiting for the hidden camera crew to pop out.

"You are... completely insane."

Parth sighed, rubbing his temples. "You need money. I need a temporary wife. It's business."

Diya let out a wild laugh. "You want to turn marriage into a business transaction? Are you hearing yourself?"

"Yes."

She groaned, flopping back in her chair. "God, you really are a robot."

Parth didn't react. "I'll fund your bakery."

She froze.

He continued, his tone measured. "I'll pay off your bakery's debts. You'll have full financial backing to open it the way you want."

Her breath hitched.

He had done his research.

She swallowed. "That's... a lot of money."

"It is," he said. "But it's a fair exchange. A temporary contract marriage in return for financial security."

Her mind was racing.

This was crazy.

It was also... tempting.

Her father's bakery was drowning in debt. She had exhausted every option.

And this man—this infuriating, emotionless CEO—was offering her a way out.

"...What's the catch?" she asked warily.

Parth's lips curled slightly. "We pretend to be the perfect couple in public. But privately? We stay out of each other's way."

She hesitated.

It was insane.

It was also her only shot.

"...Fine," she muttered. "I'll do it."

Parth extended his hand. "We have a deal, then?"

She stared at it for a moment.

Then, with a deep breath, she shook his hand.

And just like that—

Diya Kapoor had officially entered the most ridiculous contract of her life.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

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List of Ongoing Stories.

1) Sunn Yaara (RagLak)
2) Falling For my Wife (RagLak)(os) ✓
3) You're The One For Me?(TeVin)✔️
4) BROKEN TRUTH (TeParth)✔️
5) Melody Of The Heart (TeParth)

Niha🖤