Married to the Grumpy Billionaire

Ananya 

 The aroma of masala chai wafted through the air as I sat cross-legged on the floor, hurriedly flipping through my notes. My final semester exams were looming, and the pages of my notebook were starting to look like a blur. Somewhere in the background, I could hear my brother, Kabir, laughing loudly on the phone. He had a laugh that carried through walls.

"Ananya!" his voice boomed from the living room. "Get out here. Now."

I groaned, stuffing my notes into a folder. Whatever it was, it couldn't be more important than figuring out how to pass my finance exam.

When I walked into the living room, Kabir was grinning at me, his phone still in his hand. "You're being summoned," he said, nodding toward the kitchen where Mom was frying something that smelled suspiciously like samosas.

"Summoned for what?" I asked, wary.

But before Kabir could answer, Mom appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. "Beta, we're going to Aarav's house for dinner tonight."

A chill ran down my spine. Aarav.

"Why?" I blurted out, unable to mask the panic in my voice. Aarav Mehra, my brother's best friend, wasn't just any regular guy. He was intimidating, grumpy, and ridiculously good at making me feel like I was five years old whenever he looked at me.

I could already picture him: tall, broad-shouldered, and perpetually dressed in crisp suits that fit him too perfectly. His face was all sharp angles—high cheekbones, a chiseled jawline, and a straight nose that added to his aura of no-nonsense authority. But it was his eyes that always unnerved me—deep-set and dark, like they held a thousand secrets.

"Because Aarav invited us," Mom said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. "It's been ages since we all got together."

I didn't miss the gleam in Kabir's eyes. He was enjoying this far too much.

Aarav

I stood at the window of my office, staring at the city skyline. The view always calmed me. It reminded me that I had control—over my business, my life, and everything in between.

But that calm was fraying.

"You're sure she's coming?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at my assistant, who was busy jotting something down in her planner. "Yes, sir," she replied without looking up. "Mr. Malhotra confirmed that the entire family would attend."

Good. I needed to see her.

Ananya.

She was unlike anyone I had ever met. Where I was all sharp edges, she was soft—her presence disarming, her smile so innocent it made me feel unworthy of looking at her for too long. The last time I saw her, her hair had been tied back in a loose braid, wisps of it falling across her round face. She had been wearing something simple, a pastel salwar suit, but on her, it looked perfect. Everything about her was unpolished and genuine, a stark contrast to the curated, calculated people I surrounded myself with.

It wasn't something I liked to admit, even to myself. But Ananya Malhotra had been occupying far too much of my mind lately. Her laughter, her clumsy way of speaking, the way she argued with Kabir over the smallest things—it all drove me mad. And I hated that I couldn't ignore it.

But she wasn't a child anymore. She wasn't the little girl who used to peek into my study when she thought I wasn't looking. She was... different now.

I clenched my jaw. This dinner wasn't just about catching up with old friends. It was my first step toward making my intentions clear.

Ananya

The Mehra mansion was a picture of perfection. It always had been. From the manicured lawns to the gleaming marble floors, everything about it screamed wealth and power. Aarav's world was so different from mine that I often wondered how Kabir fit in here so seamlessly.

We were greeted by Aarav's mother, who enveloped me in a warm hug. "Ananya, you look so grown-up!" she exclaimed, holding me at arm's length to examine me.

I gave her a shy smile, unsure of how to respond. Behind her, Aarav's father appeared, his booming voice cutting through the chatter. "Come in, come in. Don't stand there like strangers."

And then I saw him.

Aarav Mehra stood at the foot of the staircase, his sharp eyes fixed on me. He didn't smile. He rarely did. But the way his gaze lingered made my cheeks burn.

"Ananya," he said in his deep, gravelly voice. It wasn't a greeting so much as a statement of fact, like he was testing the sound of my name.

"Hi," I managed to squeak out, feeling uncomfortably small under his intense scrutiny.

Kabir, oblivious to the tension, clapped Aarav on the shoulder. "Stop glaring at her like that. She's already scared of you."

"I'm not scared," I muttered, though my voice betrayed me.

Aarav's lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile. But instead, he turned to Kabir. "Dinner's ready. Let's eat."

The meal was a blur of laughter, teasing, and stories about Kabir's college days. Aarav didn't say much, but his presence was impossible to ignore. Every time I looked up, I found his eyes on me, steady and unreadable.

When the dessert was served, Aarav's mother casually mentioned, "You know, Aarav has been asking about you, Ananya."

I choked on my gulab jamun.

"What?" I coughed, my eyes wide as I looked at Aarav, who didn't even blink.

"She means I asked how you're doing," he said smoothly, his deep voice cutting through my panic. "Kabir talks about you all the time."

I wasn't sure if that was meant to be reassuring, but it wasn't. Not when his gaze was so piercing, like he could see right through me.

As we drove home, Kabir couldn't stop grinning. "He likes you," he teased, nudging me with his elbow.

"Who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Aarav, obviously. Did you see the way he was looking at you?"

"You're delusional," I snapped, though my racing heart told a different story.

But as I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't shake the memory of Aarav's eyes on me. They weren't just looking. They were claiming.

And that terrified me.