The soft padding of rabbit slippers echoed through the grand Mathur mansion as Sanya descended the staircase, her oversized nightshirt hanging loosely over her frame. Her hair was still a sleepy mess, and dark circles sat stubbornly under her eyes, evidence of a restless night.
The dining room was already alive with the clinking of cutlery and the rustling of newspapers. Rajeev Mathur sat at the head of the table, impeccably dressed in a sharp navy suit, his phone beside his plate as he skimmed through the business section. Meenal Mathur gracefully sipped her tea, while Sanya’s younger sister, dressed in her school uniform, scrolled through her phone in between bites of toast.
Sanya walked in, pressing a kiss to her mother’s cheek before placing a quick peck on her father’s forehead.
“Good morning,” she murmured, plopping into her chair and pulling a toast onto her plate.
Meenal glanced at her with a small smile. “Rabbit slippers again? You’re not a little girl anymore, Sanya.”
Sanya wiggled her toes. “They’re comfortable.”
Her father barely looked up, simply taking a sip of his coffee. “You look tired,” he remarked.
Sanya stirred her tea, watching the ripples in the liquid. “Didn’t sleep well.”
She hesitated for a moment before setting the spoon down, taking a deep breath.
“Papa.”
Something in her tone made him glance up, his expression neutral. “Hmm?”
She met his gaze. “Is it true?”
His brow furrowed slightly. “What are you talking about?”
“That you’re arranging my marriage with Abhishek over a business deal. "
A heavy silence settled over the table. Her mother’s hand paused midair, and her younger sister looked up from her phone, sensing the tension.
Rajeev slowly put his newspaper down, his face unreadable. “Who told you?”
Sanya let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “So, it is true.”
He exhaled, setting his coffee cup down. “Sanya, listen—”
“No, you listen,” she cut in, her voice sharp. “I want to hear it from you.”
Rajeev leaned back slightly, adjusting his cufflinks. “The company is struggling. People are selling their shares. If this continues, we will lose control.”
“And marrying me off to Abhishek is the only solution?” she asked bitterly.
Her father’s gaze was steady. “The Malhotras are strong allies. This marriage would ensure stability—”
“For the company,” she interjected, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “Not for me.”
Meenal sighed, placing a gentle hand on Sanya’s. “Beta, these things happen in business families—”
“I don’t care,” Sanya snapped, pulling her hand away. “You’re treating me like a business deal.”
“It’s not like that, Sanya,” Rajeev said firmly.
“Then what is it like?” she challenged, her voice rising. “Because from where I’m sitting, it sure looks like you’re selling me off to save your company.”
“Sanya!” her mother gasped.
Her younger sister, sensing the argument was escalating beyond her comfort, quickly grabbed her bag. “Uh, I should go. My car’s waiting.” She muttered a quick goodbye before rushing out.
Sanya barely noticed.
Her father stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. “You will understand one day.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “I hope I don’t.”
Without another word, he picked up his phone and strode toward the door.
Sanya turned to her mother, searching for reassurance, for some sign that this wasn’t final. But Meenal only sighed, reaching for her napkin.
“Beta,” she said gently, “sometimes, we don’t get to choose.”
Sanya swallowed hard, her chest tightening with frustration and helplessness.
She had to get out of here.
Pushing back her chair, she stood up and walked away, her rabbit slippers making soft thuds against the floor as she disappeared up the stairs.
Sanya sat on her bed, knees drawn up to her chest, staring at the empty wall in front of her. Her untouched phone lay beside her, buzzing occasionally with messages she had no interest in reading. The weight of the morning’s conversation pressed down on her, leaving a hollow ache in her chest.
She had always been her papa’s girl. The one who could get away with anything, who was showered with love, who was never denied anything she truly wanted. But today… today was different.
Today, she was just a pawn in his game.
A deal to be signed.
A name to be exchanged for shares.
When her mother called her for lunch, she ignored it, curling deeper into herself. Meenal didn’t call again. Maybe she understood—understood that Sanya needed time to process the betrayal that was hammering in her mind like a relentless storm.
The hours passed in a blur.
When the clock hit six, Sanya finally moved.
She wasn’t going to sit here, drowning in helplessness. She needed to get out—get away from this suffocating house, from the walls that suddenly felt too close, from the reality she wasn’t ready to accept.
She pulled open her closet and grabbed the first dress that caught her eye—a sleek black number, short and fitted. Something that screamed rebellion. Something that made her feel like she had control over at least one aspect of her life.
As she slipped into the dress and brushed out her hair, she stared at her reflection.
Her father had made his decision.
Now, she would make hers.
And tonight, her decision was simple—she was going to forget.
Sanya stormed out of her house, her heels clicking against the pavement as she made her way to the garage. Without a second thought, she slid into her favorite car, gripping the steering wheel tightly before speeding out onto the open road.
The city lights blurred past her as she drove, her mind as restless as the streets she aimlessly navigated. She had no destination, no plan—only an overwhelming need to escape the suffocating reality her father had forced upon her.
Minutes turned into hours, or maybe it was the other way around—she wasn’t sure. But when she spotted the neon lights of the nightclub ahead, something in her stilled.
This was it.
Without hesitation, she pulled into the parking lot, killed the engine, and stepped out, her confidence unshaken despite the chaos swirling inside her.
As she walked through the doors, heads turned. They always did.
Sanya Mathur wasn’t just any girl—she was the queen bee, the kind of woman who commanded attention without asking for it. But tonight, she didn’t care for the admiring glances, the lingering stares, or the whispers that followed her like a shadow.
She had come for one thing and one thing only—an escape.
Without breaking stride, she reached the bar, sliding onto a stool. She leaned in, locking eyes with the bartender.
“One drink,” she said, her voice smooth but firm. “Make it strong.”
The bass thrummed through the nightclub, matching the wild, chaotic rhythm of Sanya Mathur’s heartbeat. Neon lights flashed in dizzying patterns, and the world around her blurred at the edges. Or maybe that was just the alcohol.
She wasn’t counting her drinks. She wasn’t counting anything.
She only knew that she needed this. Needed the burn of liquor down her throat, needed the mind-numbing haze to block out the truth she had learned earlier that day.
"One more," she slurred, tapping the counter.
Sanya Mathur was never seen like this—messy, vulnerable, alone. But tonight, she didn’t care.
"You’ve had enough," the bartender said cautiously.
Sanya pouted, ready to argue, when a deep, commanding voice cut through the noise.
"She’s done for the night."
She turned sharply—too sharply. The world tilted, the dim lights of the club blurring for a second. Before she could lose her balance, a firm, steady grip caught her wrist, anchoring her.
Reyansh Malhotra.
She blinked up at him, her mind sluggish but her heart suddenly too alert.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Or maybe she wasn’t.
Clad in a sharp dark suit, he looked completely out of place in the chaos of the nightclub—too controlled, too powerful. Yet, somehow, he belonged. Like the room had been waiting for him to claim it.
And now, standing this close, his touch firm but careful, she felt the weight of his presence in a way that made her stomach flip.
"Mr. Malhotra," she drawled, blinking up at him with a lazy smirk. "What a surprise. Are you here to rescue me?"
His jaw tightened. "You shouldn’t be here alone."
Sanya let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. "Says the man sitting alone in a club."
His grip didn’t loosen. "I’m here for business."
She rolled her eyes, swaying slightly. "And I’m here to forget."
Reyansh exhaled sharply, studying her. There was something in his gaze—something unreadable, something that felt dangerously close to concern.
"Come on," he said finally, his voice low, firm. "I’m taking you home."
She blinked, genuinely surprised. "Are you always this bossy?"
His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "When necessary."
She tried to pull her hand back, but her balance betrayed her, making her stumble forward.
This time, Reyansh didn’t just catch her wrist—he caught her.
One arm wrapped securely around her waist, pressing her against him.
Sanya sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—the warmth of his body, the way his heartbeat was steady against her, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her like something intoxicating.
For a second, just a second, she forgot why she had come here in the first place.
She looked up at him, her lashes heavy, her voice softer now. "Why do you care?"
Reyansh met her gaze, his thumb brushing against the inside of her wrist, his touch gentle despite the storm in his eyes.
"Becuse someone should."
Something in her chest tightened.
For the first time that night, she let herself be led away—not because she was weak, but because, in that moment, letting him take care of her felt like the only thing that made sense.
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