Chapter 9
The morning sun poured through the massive windows of the Chaturvedi mansion, but the warmth did not reach the grand dining room.
Ever since the deeply intimate moment in Poorvanshi’s bedroom, where Siddhant had fixed the broken clasp of her necklace, an undeniable, heavy shift had occurred between them.
The air was constantly thick with unspoken words.
Every time their eyes met across a room, a silent, electric current seemed to pass between them, making it impossible for Poorvanshi to focus on anything else.
She was sitting at the long mahogany table, pushing a piece of toast around her plate, when Siddhant walked into the room.
He was dressed for war. He wore a razor-sharp, custom-tailored navy blue suit, a crisp white shirt, and a dark silver tie.
His jet-black hair was perfectly styled, and his jaw was set in a tight, uncompromising line.
He looked like the ruthless 'Devil of Delhi' who crushed rival corporations before breakfast.
Siddhant did not sit down. He walked directly over to where Poorvanshi was sitting and placed a thick, leather-bound business portfolio on the table near her plate.
"I need your help," Siddhant said. His deep voice was entirely professional, but there was a faint, hidden edge of tension in it.
Poorvanshi looked up, raising an eyebrow. "The Devil is asking for help? Should I look out the window to see if pigs are flying?"
A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of his lips before vanishing completely. "Keep your sarcasm in check for ten minutes, Miss Rathore. This is serious."
Poorvanshi put down her fork, giving him her full attention. "What is wrong?"
"Chaturvedi Group is on the verge of closing a massive, multi-billion-rupee merger with the Singhania Corporation," Siddhant explained, his dark eyes locking onto hers.
"It is a deal I have been working on for two years.
It will completely secure the future of this empire and cement our dominance in the global market. "
"Congratulations," Poorvanshi said genuinely. "But what does that have to do with me?"
"Everything," Siddhant replied, his expression hardening.
"Vikram Singhania is an incredibly old-fashioned, traditional businessman.
He is from a royal family in Rajasthan, and he values family honor, stability, and unity above all else.
He refuses to do business with companies that are involved in public scandals. "
Poorvanshi felt a cold knot form in her stomach. "And Aryan’s disappearing act is a massive public scandal."
"Exactly," Siddhant nodded. "Singhania is threatening to pull out of the merger. He believes that if the Chaturvedi family cannot even manage a wedding or keep our own house in order, we cannot be trusted with a multi-billion-rupee partnership. He thinks our family is chaotic and unstable."
"I am sorry, Siddhant," Poorvanshi said softly, feeling a pang of guilt, even though none of this was her fault. "Is there anything you can do to save the deal?"
"Yes," Siddhant said, stepping slightly closer to her chair. "Singhania is hosting an incredibly exclusive, private dinner tonight at his estate on the outskirts of the city. He invited me. And he explicitly asked me to bring you."
Poorvanshi’s eyes widened in shock. "Me? Why would he want to meet the abandoned bride? Won't my presence just remind him of the scandal?"
"He doesn't want to meet the abandoned bride," Siddhant corrected her, his voice dropping to a low, smooth pitch that sent a shiver down her spine.
"The media has stopped talking about Aryan.
After the charity gala and Daadi's birthday party, the narrative has completely shifted.
The public no longer sees you as my brother's tragic mistake. They see you as my partner."
Poorvanshi stopped breathing for a second. "Your... partner?"
"You are wearing my mother's ring, Poorvanshi," Siddhant pointed out, his gaze dropping to the heavy diamond resting on her left hand.
"You live in my house. I have publicly threatened anyone who speaks against you.
To the outside world, and to Vikram Singhania, you are under my protection. The lines have blurred."
Siddhant leaned down, resting his large hands on the table, bringing his face dangerously close to hers.
"I need you to come to this dinner tonight," Siddhant murmured softly, his dark eyes burning into hers.
"And I need you to play a role. I need you to act like we are a completely united front.
I need Singhania to look at us and see a powerful, unbreakable couple.
I need him to believe that this family is rock solid because you and I are rock solid. "
"You want us to pretend to be together," Poorvanshi clarified, her heart beating frantically against her ribs. "You want us to play husband and wife."
"Just for tonight," Siddhant replied, though the raw intensity in his eyes suggested he wanted it for much longer than a single evening.
"If we can convince Singhania that we are deeply connected and completely unbothered by Aryan’s cowardice, he will sign the papers tomorrow morning. Will you do this for me, Poorvanshi?"
It was the very first time Siddhant had ever asked her for a personal favor. He wasn't commanding her. He wasn't setting a strict rule. He was asking for her partnership.
Poorvanshi looked deeply into his eyes, seeing the brilliant, tired man hiding behind the terrifying mask. She thought about how he had pulled her out of the fire, how he had defended her against the world, and how he had gently fixed her necklace when she was falling apart.
She lifted her chin, a small, daring smile playing on her lips.
"Fine," Poorvanshi said smoothly. "I will be your devoted partner for the evening. But I have conditions."
Siddhant raised a single, perfect eyebrow. "Conditions?"
"Yes," she said, standing up so they were face to face.
"If I am going to play the role of the woman who tamed the Devil of Delhi, I expect you to act the part of a man completely captivated by me.
You will pull out my chair. You will pour my water.
And you will not use your scary, intimidating CEO voice on me in front of them. "
Siddhant stared down at her, a genuine, breathtaking flash of amusement breaking through his cold mask.
"I will try my absolute best to contain my terrifying nature, Miss Rathore," Siddhant murmured, his voice incredibly deep and entirely intoxicating. "Be ready by seven."
***
The evening air was cool and crisp when Poorvanshi walked down the grand staircase.
She had dressed specifically for the role she was about to play.
She wanted to look elegant, powerful, and completely secure.
She had chosen a breathtaking, soft blush-pink chiffon saree.
It was a gentle, romantic color, but the modern, sleek cut of the blouse and the intricate silver border gave it a sharp, sophisticated edge.
She wore her hair in an elegant updo, allowing a few soft, dark curls to frame her face, and paired it with long, beautiful silver earrings.
Siddhant was waiting in the foyer. When he saw her, he completely froze.
He had changed into a dark charcoal-grey suit that fit his massive frame with absolute perfection.
He stood perfectly still, his dark eyes tracking her every movement as she descended the stairs.
The look of pure, unfiltered hunger in his eyes was so intense that Poorvanshi actually felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks.
"Is the outfit acceptable for the role, Mr. Chaturvedi?" Poorvanshi teased softly as she reached the bottom step.
Siddhant swallowed hard, taking a slow step towards her. "You look incredibly beautiful, Poorvanshi. Singhania isn't going to look at the contract once, he is going to be completely distracted trying to figure out how a man like me convinced a woman like you to stay."
The raw honesty in his compliment made her breath catch.
"Let's go secure your empire," she whispered, recovering her composure and placing her hand lightly on his offered arm.
The drive to the Singhania estate was filled with a thick, heavy tension. They sat in the spacious back seat of the Rolls-Royce, separated by a few inches of leather, but it felt like the air between them was practically vibrating with electricity.
"Remember," Siddhant said quietly as the car turned into the massive, palace-like driveway of the estate. "We are a united front. We banter, but we do not fight. We show them that our bond is effortless."
"I am a brilliant actress, Siddhant," Poorvanshi smiled, turning to face him in the dim light of the car. "Just try not to fall in love with me tonight."
Siddhant’s dark eyes locked onto hers, holding her gaze with terrifying intensity. "I think," he murmured, his voice dropping to a rough, breathless whisper, "that is a battle I have already lost."
Before Poorvanshi could even process the massive, life-altering weight of that confession, the car rolled to a smooth stop, and the door was opened by a valet.
Siddhant instantly slipped his cold, calculated mask back into place.
He stepped out of the car, completely composed, and held his hand out to help her out.
As Poorvanshi placed her hand in his, her heart was hammering so loudly she was sure the entire estate could hear it. 'He had already lost the battle.'
They were greeted at the grand entrance by Vikram Singhania himself. He was an older man with silver hair, a thick mustache, and sharp, intelligent eyes. Standing next to him was his elegant wife, Mrs. Singhania.
"Siddhant, my boy," Mr. Singhania said, shaking Siddhant’s hand firmly. "Welcome. And this must be the famous Poorvanshi."
"Good evening, Mr. Singhania, Mrs. Singhania," Poorvanshi said warmly, offering a polite, traditional greeting. "Thank you so much for having us in your beautiful home."