Aankh unki ladi yu meri aankh se,

Dekh kar yeh ladai maza aa gya......

I was there for revenge, but there was something about her that caught my attention.

I put the contract papers - the ones she gave me with her conditions - on the seat beside me as I drove my Porsche, concentrating on unfinished business.

My phone rang. "Hello?"

A pause, then my informant's steady voice: "He's here."

"Good," I replied coldly. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't let him leave."

I hung up, my grip tightening on the wheel. No one had ever dared to leak information about my family—until today. They would regret it.

I parked my Porsche and walked to the outhouse where all my... less official business took place. My men were outside, alert and waiting.

"He's inside, sir," one of them said in a low voice.

I walked in and saw the man - the assistant to the doctor who's treating my mother. He looked terrified, slumped in a chair with his hands tied. His eyes were wide open, and he was sweating, clearly afraid of what was coming.

I moved closer and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at me. "So, you thought you could cross me?" I said, my voice low and threatening.

He trembled, unable to respond.

"You leaked my family's information," I said, leaning closer, my voice cold. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

He shook his head, fear written all over his face.

My bodyguard returned quickly, carrying a small metal box that held my tools. I could see the fear deepening in his eyes.

I opened the box slowly, the sound of metal clinking filling the dim room. "You think you can leak my family's information and walk away from it?" I asked, my tone hard. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

I leaned in closer, my voice a mere whisper, "You'll wish you never crossed paths with me."

He said nervously, "I-I didn't mean to... It was an accident!" His voice trembled, and I could see he was desperately trying to find a way out.

"Accidents don't happen in my world," I replied, stepping back to give him a moment to process his impending fate. "You made a choice, and now you'll pay the price."

I picked up a sharp instrument from the box, letting it glint under the weak light. "Now, let's start with a simple question: was it Varun who asked you for the details?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. "Y-yes, it was Varun. He wanted the information to boost the revenue and TRPs for Malhotra Media."

"Of course he did," I sneered, my grip on the instrument tightening. I ordered my men to tie him up until he understood who Siddhant Oberoi is and never to cross me again.

I stepped out of the outhouse and headed back to my penthouse. Once inside my room, I went straight for the shower, wanting to wash away the blood on my hands. My mind was a mess, swirling with thoughts and images.

Suddenly, her face appeared in my mind—how she had been sitting at her book signing event, talking and smiling, giving autographs to her fans. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I had already seen her picture sent by my assistant, but seeing her in person, wearing a tight black bodycon dress that perfectly hugged her slim figure, took my breath away.

But when I called her 'Miss Malhotra,' there was something in her eyes that suggested she hated being addressed that way. The same look appeared when I mentioned saving her brother. It was clear she was hiding something behind her smile.

What the fuck was wrong with me? This is not you Siddhant. Why was I thinking about her? She was just a business deal. I was marrying her for the sake of my revenge—nothing else. Nothing was going to happen between us. Never.

Suddenly, my gaze fell on the paper she had handed me, stating her conditions for our marriage. I picked it up and started reading:-

1. Don't expect anything from this marriage. 

2. Separate rooms after the wedding. 

3. We will never get involved in each other's business.

4. I want a mini-library and a study area where I can write my books without disturbance in the house where we'll live after the marriage.

The last condition was marked with a star. As I read it, a small smile crept onto my face. 

No, no—what was this girl doing to me? I had never smiled like that before, but here I was, grinning at a list of demands.

She was something different. It frustrated me how easily she caught my attention. I shook my head, reminding myself that I was marrying her for revenge, not to get distracted by her.

It's all about revenge—nothing else, just revenge.