His temporary wife, his permanent obsession

chapter 1-The price of desperation

Ira Sharma

Ira’s hands trembled as she held the hospital bill in her fingers, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The numbers on the paper blurred, not because of poor eyesight, but because of the tears threatening to fall. ?5,00,000. That was the cost of her father’s surgery. Money she didn’t have.

The air in the hospital smelled of antiseptic, suffocating her as she looked through the glass window at her father’s frail body lying on the hospital bed. He had been everything to her—the only parent who had loved her unconditionally, who had protected her from the cruelty of the world. But now, she was powerless to save him.

Her mother’s words echoed in her head, laced with frustration and helplessness.

“Ira, do something! We don’t have time!”

She had already tried everything—loan applications, scholarships, extra jobs—but nothing had worked. The world didn’t give money to desperate people without collateral. The world didn’t care about a girl struggling to keep her family afloat.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. Unknown Number.

Her brows furrowed. “Hello?”

“Ira Sharma.” The voice on the other end was deep, firm, and utterly emotionless. “I have a proposition for you. Meet me at Malhotra Industries, 8 PM sharp. Don’t be late.”

The call ended before she could even respond.

Malhotra Industries. She had applied there for a job just yesterday. But why was their CEO calling her directly? And why at night?

Something didn’t feel right.

But right now, Ira didn’t have the luxury to question things. If this meeting could give her even the slightest hope of saving her father, she would take the risk.

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Aarav Malhotra

Aarav leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the polished wood of his office desk. The city skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but his mind was elsewhere.

His grandfather’s words still rang in his ears.

“If you don’t settle down in six months, Aarav, I will personally ensure you lose your position as CEO.”

The old man wasn’t bluffing. Aarav had worked too hard, bled too much, to let it all slip away just because of an outdated tradition. Marriage had never been in his plans. Love? That was a foolish fantasy. In his world, emotions were weaknesses, and he had buried his long ago.

But business was business. And if he had to sign a contract to secure his future, so be it.

That’s where Ira Sharma came in.

She was desperate. He was practical.

A six-month marriage, a contract with clear boundaries, and once it was over, they would go their separate ways.

No emotions. No expectations.

Just a deal.

Aarav glanced at his watch. 7:59 PM.

Any second now, the woman who would become his wife would walk through that door.

And she had no idea what she was about to agree to.