Chapter 15
Akash sat in his office at Sehgal Media, waiting for Shauna to arrive. He reread their brief text conversation from the previous night.
I’ve thought through everything. I’m willing to marry you. But I have terms. We need to talk.
He wasn’t entirely shocked to read her message.
Janak’s proposal had been circling his thoughts too.
And the more he thought about it, the more sense it made.
Marrying Shauna was the most strategic option.
Being attached to the Sehgal name via marriage would give him instant credibility.
It would silence the board’s murmurs, neutralize Suveer Malhotra’s influence, and allow him to lead without constantly watching his back or waiting for someone to challenge his authority.
But marriage was a commitment, one he had to think very carefully about. And so, he’d taken his time to reply to her.
Let’s meet tomorrow morning at ten in my office.
I’ll be there.
She would be here soon, but before that, he needed to get some work done. Akash was halfway through an email when there was a sharp knock on his office door. Before he could respond, the door opened.
Suveer Malhotra walked in as though he owned the place.
Instinctively, Akash rose and went to him, bending to touch his feet.
As he straightened, a twinge of hurt mixed with anger flared in his chest. This man had known him for years, had watched him grow up.
Yet instead of supporting him, he’d worked the board against him.
Akash offered him a seat in the chair across from him. Suveer lifted his chin, studying him quietly as Akash returned to his own chair behind the desk.
The older man was impeccably dressed. As always, he carried that faint air of entitlement, which had never really bothered Akash before. But today, this snobbery irked him. It felt pointed, deliberate, as if he was trying to intimidate him.
“Akash,” Suveer said, offering a thin smile as he took a seat. “I thought I’d check in. See how you’re doing.”
Akash leaned back slightly. “I’m well. Busy.”
“As one should be,” Suveer said. His gaze swept across the office, assessing. Judging. “Tell me, how are you finding the responsibility? Running such a large company can be… overwhelming.”
There it was. The real reason he was here.
“I’ve been preparing for this for years,” Akash said. “You know that.”
Suveer hummed. “The board is concerned. Sudden transitions make investors nervous. People are asking whether you’re ready.”
People? Or him?
“I’ve known you since you were a boy,” Suveer continued. “And familiarity can sometimes blur judgment. Which is why I want to be honest with you and say that you don’t have enough experience yet.”
Akash clenched his jaw. “You don’t trust me to run the company?”
“You’re too young.” Suveer met his gaze coolly. “Why do you think I haven’t handed Malhotra Productions over to Dheer yet? He’s my eldest grandson. He has more experience than you do. And still, I don’t believe he’s ready to take over from me.”
Akash didn’t know what to say to that. He knew beyond a doubt that no matter how much authority this old man pretended to have, Dheer was the backbone of Malhotra Productions.
“Sir, please understand—”
“What I understand,” Suveer cut in, “is that Janak moved too quickly. He should have kept the reins longer, with you working under him for years.”
“That’s exactly what I was doing,” Akash replied, keeping his tone calm while inside he was fuming. “For years.”
Suveer’s expression hardened. “And yet he also sent you away, to other businesses, other interests.”
“He sent me there to learn, to gain more experience so I could run Sehgal Media in the best way possible.”
“Exactly. You’ve been away for too long. Then you return, and suddenly you’re in charge. Abrupt changes are rarely good for a company.”
Akash exhaled slowly. He saw it then, that nothing he said would change this man’s mind. Suveer wasn’t going to budge. This traditional old man wouldn’t change his views no matter how much Akash tried to convince him otherwise.
Which meant the board never would either. Which meant he had a fight ahead of him. A brutal one. Unless—
There was a knock, and then the door opened again.
Shauna stepped in and stopped short when she saw Suveer. “Oh. I didn’t realize—”
“Shauna,” Suveer said. He didn’t acknowledge her beyond that.
Akash felt a flicker of irritation. So this was what Amara had complained about till date.
She’d worked in the family business for years and was still never taken seriously by her grandfather.
Never credited. If it had been up to him, Amara would never have worked at all, but she had put her foot down.
Suveer, however, thought he controlled her, but Amara was too smart and knew exactly how to handle him.
Even so, that didn’t change the fact that women, in Suveer’s world, were observers, not decision-makers.
Suveer rose. “I came today to warn you that the board is watching you carefully. One mistake and…”
He let the threat hang unfinished in the air before turning and walking out. The door clicked shut behind him, and Akash stared at it for a long moment.
“Fuck,” Shauna swore. “Did he just come here to deliver a warning in person?”
“Looks like it,” Akash said.
“He’s awful.”
Akash shrugged. “He’s always been difficult. His grandchildren have had a hard time convincing him of anything. Hence, this isn’t out of character for him. But I never expected him to turn his guns on me.”
“Well, forget him,” Shauna said. “If you and I work everything out, it will shut him up forever.”
He liked that she was already talking about the two of them as a team.
Hopefully, whatever came next would reflect that same spirit.
Sighing, he turned and finally took her in.
Shauna was dressed for work in tailored black trousers, a crisp ink-blue sleeveless blouse tucked neatly into them.
Her hair was pulled back into a knot at her nape, and her makeup was minimal.
She looked sharp. Poised. Beautiful as always.
Her eyes landed on him, and he saw the determination flicker in her gaze.
He pointed to the seating area, and she crossed the room to drop into one of the armchairs. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a slim folder, extracted a single sheet of paper, and held it out to him.
“These are my terms,” she said, immediately turning businesslike.
His mouth curved. “No hello? No How are you? That’s no way to treat your future husband.”
“This is not a social call,” she shot back.
But he didn’t miss the slight tremor in her fingers as she pushed the sheet toward him. He was happy to know that she wasn’t as unaffected as she portrayed.
“I’m happy to go over any terms you may have considered,” Shauna said as he took the paper from her.
He smiled. “Not to worry. Mine are rather simple, and I have them all in my head. We’ll discuss those too. But first, shall I get you some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” she replied.
He went to the coffee machine in the corner and made her a cup. Black, with a dash of milk and one teaspoon of sugar, just the way she liked it. He handed her the cup and made some black tea for himself.
She winced as he stirred his tea. “I’ve never understood your obsession with black tea. It’s vile.”
“It really isn’t,” he chuckled. “Besides, we all have our quirks. This is mine. You’ll discover more if you marry me.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ll marry you only if you agree to my terms.”
“By the time we’re done,” he said calmly, taking the seat facing her, “we’ll both have exactly what we want.”
Her brows drew together in surprise. He lowered his gaze to the page instead.
He’d spent most of the previous night thinking through what she might demand, anticipating the boundaries she would draw and the safeguards she would insist on.
Much of it was exactly as he’d expected.
Some of it he was willing, even prepared, to concede.
“Let’s start from the top. You want the Group CEO role,” he said finally, looking up. “With operational control over GVN, SEHVA, and the Studios.”
She nodded.
“Done,” he said easily. “I’ll remain Managing Director. I’ll deal with the board, handle governance, and long-term strategy. I’ve never believed in running this place alone. You taking full operational charge frees me to focus on where I’m actually needed. So I agree.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. Clearly, she’d been expecting a battle.
But he’d anticipated this from her. She’d wanted Sehgal Media for far too long not to ask for the CEO position.
And like he’d said, he was happy with her running the business so he could focus on growing it.
Her expression cleared, and she sipped her coffee.
He skimmed the next clause while drinking his tea and let out a quiet huff of amusement.
“Financial independence,” he read aloud. “Your assets, income, and professional earnings remain solely yours. No mixing of personal finances unless explicitly agreed to in writing.”
He looked up at her then, one brow lifting. “You know I don’t want your money, right?”
She placed her cup on the table. “I just want everything to be clear. Money complicates things. And when it isn’t spelled out, it leads to assumptions. I don’t want misunderstandings later about what belongs to whom or what either of us owes the other.”
He nodded once. “Fair. We each keep what we own, now and in the future.”
He paused at the next clause.
“Duration,” he read aloud. “Two years.”
Shauna’s chin lifted a fraction. “It’s sufficient.”
“It isn’t.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It’s more than enough time to stabilize things.”
“For you, maybe,” he said evenly. “Not for me.”
She folded her arms. “I’m not interested in being bound indefinitely, Akash.”