Destined – A Marriage of Convenience Love Story: Chapter 2

Destined – A Marriage of Convenience Love Story: His Shattered Dreams

6,954 words, 37 minutes read time.

A Marriage of Convenience Love Story Set in Kolkata

Destined: A Marriage of Convenience Love Story – Chapter 2
His Shattered Dreams

Abhoy

Don’t forget to read Chapter 1 of Destined: A Marriage of Convenience.

Destined – A Marriage of Convenience Love Story: Chapter 1

“I’m so excited to see how it all turns out.”

I smiled without even trying. Just looking at her could fix my entire day. She had been buzzing with excitement ever since the renovation started. The moment I told her she could decorate the room however she liked, she had squealed and jumped straight into my arms.

We were getting married.

And my father had hired a decorator to convert my bachelor room into something fit for a couple.

“Are you even listening?” she asked, waving her hand in front of my face. “How about an antique table lamp? I saw one in a shop and I want you to come with me tomorrow to check it out. I hope it’s not already sold. If you say yes, we can buy it.”

“First the walls,” I said calmly. “If it doesn’t match your expectations, we can redo everything, Yagini. And the lamp. Do you have the shop name? I’ll ask my assistant to call them and keep it aside for you.”

“No, no,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “That’s okay. We will go tomorrow morning. If it’s sold, maybe we are meant to buy something else. Don’t worry.”

I nodded, not arguing.

I wanted what she wanted.

She turned slowly, looking around the room that would soon become ours. I watched her instead of the walls, the paint, the furniture. Her eyes were shining with excitement, her mind already imagining a life here.

I just stood there and took it all in.

I loved her.

So much.

Then she turned toward me and looped her arms around my neck, her smile bright enough to make the whole room feel warmer.

“I love you.”

“No,” I said softly. “I love you.”

She sighed and leaned back slightly, studying the freshly painted walls again.

“Do you think white is better,” she asked thoughtfully, “or this morning light shade of yellow?”

“Sweetheart, how about we do both?” I said. “One wall white and one wall yellow. Then whichever one you like more, we can paint the rest of the walls that color.”

She made a face immediately, clearly unimpressed.

“You tell me what you like.”

“I like you.”

Her nose wrinkled right away.

“That’s boring. You need excitement in your life.”

Before she could continue complaining, I scooped her into my arms and spun her around.

She yelped in surprise, grabbing my shoulders tightly, and then the sound turned into laughter. Loud, carefree laughter that filled the entire room.

I laughed with her.

When I finally set her down, she was still smiling.

“That’s enough excitement in my life,” I said. “I don’t need more.”

My fingers brushed her cheek without thinking. I could never stop touching her for long.

“I can’t wait for us to get married,” I murmured quietly. “I can’t wait to wake up beside you every morning.”

She looked up at me, her eyes soft, something warm flickering in them.

Slowly she cupped my face and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of my lips.

I tugged her closer and kissed her. Really kissed her. Slow at first, taking my time, feeling the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath. The faint sweetness of the lip balm she always used lingered between us.

For a moment the world faded.

It was just her.

It had always been her.

My fingers slid around her waist as I pulled her closer, holding her like she belonged there. Like she always would.

Then, without warning, my mind drifted to the first time we met.

A library.

She had been carrying a stack of books, wearing those thick round glasses that made her look far too serious for someone her age. We collided at the corner of an aisle, books nearly tumbling from her hands.

She had looked up at me, startled. That was it. I was gone. That moment changed everything for me. I was still gone. That hadn’t changed at all.

We became friends first. Study partners. Library companions. The kind of friendship where you start looking for the other person without realizing it. I tried to spent as much time with her as possible. But I was into sports and many other activities so I was quite busy while she hated sports. She was a book reader.

Then one day I heard she was going on a date with one of my friends.

I didn’t think. I confessed. Not for a date. Not casually. I asked her to be my girlfriend.

And she said yes.

Now she was my fiancée.

She pulled back slightly, breathing harder, a shy smile spreading across her face. That smile. The one I was completely helpless against.

Her fingers slipped into my hair, but I could see her expression changing. The softness fading a little as something else crossed her mind.

I knew that look. Observing Yagini was my favorite pastime. I knew almost every expression she had. She was thinking something and it was serious.

“What happened?” I asked slowly.

She chewed on her bottom lip while I waited. When I asked something, she always answered. Eventually.

“I read somewhere,” she said quietly. “When love becomes too much, destiny takes it away.”

I frowned immediately.

“What?”

“When love becomes devotion,” she continued softly, “fate tests it.”

“Don’t talk rubbish,” I snapped without thinking. “No one, no bloody one can take you away from me.”

I rarely raised my voice at her but how dare she even thinks of leaving me. I won’t let that happen. My hands tightened slightly around her arms.

“Yagini, you are mine.” I said with conviction.

“I know,” she said quickly. “And I love being yours.”

But something flickered in her eyes.

A hesitation. It irritated me.

“But your obsession with me,” she added softly, “it scares me sometimes.”

“Don’t,” I said sharply, my voice turning hard. “We are not talking about this anymore. Your future is mine. And only mine.”

She sighed quietly but nodded.

“I just want you to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If anything happens to me…”

She stopped when I shot her a glare. The words froze in her throat.

“Not now,” she corrected quickly. “But after twenty years. Or forty. Whenever my time is up.”

I didn’t like where this was going.

“Promise me you will live your life.”

“If it’s only after we both turn ninety.”

She made a face and shook her head.

“It can happen sooner,” she said softly. “And I need this promise.”

Her fingers tightened around mine.

“Abhoy, promise me you will live your life. You won’t touch alcohol. You will work. You will grow. And if… if possible, you will marry.”

I bolted upright in bed. My breath came out in short bursts, my chest rising and falling too quickly. Sweat clung to my skin, soaking the collar of my tee.

The dream.

Her dream.

The same one again.

Her voice. Her smile. Her asking me to live my life. And to get married.

My eyes burned but I forced the tears back. I wasn’t going to cry. Not again. Life had already played its cruel joke on me. I was supposed to move on. Everyone said that. Time heals, life moves forward, people learn to live again.

But how do you move on when the center of your universe disappears?

Yagini had been everything to me.

Now she was gone. Gone to a place where there was no door, no road, no path that could bring her back.

Still, I couldn’t let this destroy me.

My parents needed me.

They had already suffered enough. I had seen it in their eyes when I woke up in the hospital. The fear. The relief. The exhaustion after months of praying.

I never even got to say goodbye to her.

Because I was out.

Completely gone for six months.

When I finally woke up, the first thing I asked was about her. Where she was. Why she hadn’t come to see me.

No one answered.

Not my mother. Not my father. Not the doctors.

Only when I tried to get out of the hospital bed and leave to find her did my father finally tell me.

She was no more.

Just like that.

My love. My life. Gone forever.

My mother had cried so much that day, begging me to stay calm, to lie down, to think about my health. That year was dark. So dark that even remembering it now made something inside me freeze.

A year later I understood something simple.

Life moves on.

Whether you want it to or not.

So I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I worked.

I buried myself in it. I didn’t join my father’s business like everyone expected. Instead I started my own company. Built something from nothing.

Work didn’t ask questions.

Work didn’t remind me of her every second.

But now the dreams had returned. This particular dream.

Again and again.

As if she was trying to remind me of something.

I let out a slow breath and scrubbed my face, trying to brush away the lingering heaviness of the past.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood up quickly. I needed to move before the memories swallowed me whole. I used the washroom first, splashing cold water over my face.

Then walking into the walk in closet, I grabbed a pair of track pants and pulled them on before stepping out of the room.

The house was silent, like it was supposed to be at four-thirty in the morning. Even our house staff woke at five, not before that.

Our gym was in the basement. I descended the stairs two at a time, barely noticing the cool marble under my feet.

Inside the gym, I wore my running shoes, then I walked straight to the sound system and turned the speakers on. Loud. Loud enough to drown every thought in my head.

Electric beats exploded through the room. I stepped onto the treadmill and started running. Faster. Harder.

The belt moved beneath my feet as I pushed forward, my breath coming in short bursts. Within minutes my lungs burned and my legs began to protest. Sweat rolled down my back, soaking through my tee. My chest tightened with every breath.

I kept running.

How can I marry someone else when my soul already belongs to someone else?

I couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. But my parents wanted me to get married.

Just last week Baba had called me into his study.

The same quiet room where he handled all the family business matters. The heavy wooden desk, the tall bookshelves, the faint smell of old paper and sandalwood. That room had always meant serious conversations.

He spoke calmly, explaining things the way he always did. Patient. Logical. As if every decision had already been weighed and measured, and now it simply needed to be accepted.

I listened.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t interrupt.

Because I knew he was right.

I understood where it was coming from.

When he finished speaking, I simply stood up and walked out.

Because I couldn’t do it.

Behind me I heard him sigh, long and tired, but he didn’t stop me.

Yagini and I were seventeen when we first crossed paths.

Nine years together after that.

Nine years of laughter, small fights, late night phone calls, endless plans about the future that felt so certain.

And then it was gone.

Just when we were about to get married. The wedding cards were already printed. Invitations had been sent out. Both families were busy with preparations.

Then one cold night everything ended.

Now, seven years later, I was still standing in the same place.

I had grown up with her. From seventeen to twenty six. Those years where life changes, where you figure out who you are.

And in all those years she had been the only constant.

Then she was gone.

I had not moved on.

I could not.

I cannot.

I tried. Every single day I tried.

At work I was fine. Once I stepped into the office everything fell into place. Meetings, decisions, numbers, negotiations. The hours passed quickly and normally.

But not at home.

Not in the room she had designed.

I couldn’t get myself to redecorate it. I couldn’t get myself to shift to another room either.

The place felt haunted.

And I loved the ghost.

My legs finally refused to move anymore.

I slowed the treadmill down, my breathing heavy, and stepped off. Every muscle in my body burned as I walked to the bench and dropped onto it, leaning back with my eyes closed.

“Move on.”

My eyes flew open.

I sat up straight and looked around the empty gym.

The machines stood quietly around me. The music still thundered through the speakers. But there was no one else there.

Was she here?

Was Yagini here?

Or was my mind just playing tricks on me again?

“I can’t move on,” I shouted into the empty room, my voice bouncing off the walls. “I’m okay. I’m living. I’m not drinking, just like you asked.”

My hands clenched into fists.

“Easy Solutions has grown ten folds in the last seven years. I’ve done everything you wanted me to do.”

My voice cracked before I could stop it.

“Everything except one thing.”

I dragged a hand through my damp hair.

“Marriage is not just two people. It’s two families. Two lives getting tied together.”

My jaw tightened.

“And I cannot destroy someone else’s life.”

The words came out rough and stubborn.

“I cannot fall in love again.”

My chest rose and fell slowly as the room settled back into silence around me.

“I can’t do it.”

After a moment, I stood up. The weakness, the memories, the grief. I pushed them all back where they belonged. Then I wore my mask again. The one everyone knew. The one everyone feared.

And without another word, I walked out of the gym.

A week passed without any dreams.

Life became manageable again. I worked fourteen hours a day and honestly, I liked it that way. Work kept my mind occupied. It kept the silence away.

My alarm rang and I sat up slowly, rubbing my face as I prepared myself for another long day. Today was important. We had three government bids to send out, and every detail had to be perfect.

I stepped into the shower and turned the tap fully to cold.

The icy water ran down my back and shoulders, making me suck in a sharp breath before my body slowly adjusted. I stood there longer than necessary, letting the cold seep into my skin, numbing everything inside me.

Emotions made you weak.

And I didn’t need them.

Once out, I dried off quickly and started getting dressed. I was buttoning my shirt when my phone began to ring. I glanced at the screen.

Prathmesh.

I answered immediately. “Yes, Prathmesh?”

“Sir, I have emailed you the presentation for today’s meeting.”

I frowned slightly. “Didn’t you give the file to me last night?”

“I made some changes,” he said quickly. “It’s the government tender, so I checked the data again and adjusted a few things.”

“Okay. I will check it.”

I picked up my watch from the table and strapped it onto my wrist.

“Get everything ready. I will meet you at the office in an hour. We need to win this contract.”

“Yes, sir.”

I ended the call just as my bedroom door burst open.

Before I could even react, two bodies slammed straight into me.

My younger siblings.

They had grown up so much. Both in college now, but fifteen years younger than me. My twin sisters. Sometimes they felt less like siblings and more like my responsibility.

“Ishika and Iswari,” I groaned as they wrapped their arms around me. “What are you two up to?”

“Dada, something is happening.”

Both of them said it together, their eyes shining with excitement.

“What is happening?” I asked slowly.

They exchanged quick looks with each other and then burst into giggles.

I turned my head slightly and gave them a sharp look.

That usually worked.

It worked now too.

Both of them instantly straightened, their giggles dying down as they stepped away from me just as Maa walked into the room.

“Ishu and Wari, get ready for college,” she said calmly, holding a small pooja thali in her hands. “And leave us alone. I want to discuss something with your dada.”

They obediently took the prasad from her hand and hurried toward the door, though not without throwing curious glances over their shoulders.

They clearly knew what our mother was up to.

I didn’t.

But I was quite sure I was about to hear my mother’s latest plan.

At the door, Ishwari turned around and flashed me a mischievous grin.

I only frowned back.

Then I turned as Maa stepped closer.

She placed a small red tilak on my forehead and I bowed my head slightly out of habit. Then she handed me the prasad onto my extended palm.

Kheer.

She made it every morning. Rice, milk, and jaggery slow cooked until the whole house smelled sweet. That smell alone felt like home, something that never changed no matter how old I got.

I ate it and then gently pulled her toward the couch.

We both sat down.

She hadn’t come here without a reason.

“What’s up, Maa?” I asked, attempting a smile.

She ran her fingers through my hair lovingly, immediately messing it up.

I sighed internally. I would have to fix it again.

“Shona,” she began softly, “last week when I went to the temple. The one I love. I came across someone.”

“Maa Durga temple in MH Colony?” I asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. “And I saw someone there.”

“Who, Maa?”

“A girl.”

Her eyes softened as she said it, the way they always did when she spoke about something she had already decided in her heart.

“I fell in love with her at first sight.”

I leaned back slightly, controlling the sigh that threatened to escape.

“Maa…”

“It’s time to move on,” she said gently. “Yagini would have wanted that.”

My jaw tightened but I said nothing.

“Panditji told me she is a very decent girl,” Maa continued. “And so beautiful. Like an apsara.”

A faint smile touched her lips as if she could still see the girl standing in front of the temple.

“Panditji said she comes to the temple every morning. Nowadays who does that? Even Ishika and Iswari don’t wake up that early.”

She shook her head lightly.

“Then I asked about her family name and told your Baba to find out more about them.”

“And?” I asked cautiously.

“He told me they are good people.”

“Stop.” I raised my hand. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“No, son,” she said firmly. “I already did something. And it is permanent now.”

A bad feeling settled in my stomach.

“What?”

“We are going to their house tonight for dinner.”

She looked at me carefully before adding, “Wear that sea blue suit you have. It suits you.”

“Maa…”

“I have fixed your marriage with her,” she said calmly.

For a second I just stared at her.

“I spoke to the head of their family. Your Baba met Amitava Bagchi. He is her kaka and the decision maker. They were in a tight spot and your Baba agreed to help them.”

The words sank in slowly.

“You bought a bride for me?” I asked quietly.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” she snapped immediately. “Families help each other. And now we are one.”

Her voice softened again.

“She is a good girl, believe me, son.”

Her hand reached for mine.

“I have waited seven years for you to move on,” she said quietly. “I can’t wait anymore, Shona.”

“Maa…”

“No.” Her voice hardened. “I am done waiting. I have taken matters into my own hands now.”

She looked straight at me, her expression firm in a way that told me she had already crossed the point of no return.

“I have found a girl for you and you will marry her. Or be prepared to see my dead body.”

I stared at her for a moment.

Then I forced myself not to roll my eyes at the dramatic declaration sitting across from me. Maa had always believed in emotional blackmail as a parenting tool.

Still, I had known something like this was coming.

Maybe it was time to get it over with.

I couldn’t love again. That part of me was long gone. But arranged marriages were rarely about love anyway. They were about stability, respect, families fitting together.

Love came much later. Or sometimes it never came.

“What’s her name?” I asked finally.

Relief flashed across Maa’s face so quickly she probably didn’t even realize it.

“Mehek. Mehek Bagchi,” she said quickly. “She completed college six months back. Graduated first class.”

“What?” I looked at her, completely thrown. She had just finished college.

Was Maa serious?

“Yes…”

“Maa,” I said slowly, trying to process this. “That makes her what? Twelve years younger than me?”

“She is twenty one.”

“I am not going to marry a child.”

“I am not giving you a choice.”

Her tone left no room for argument.

“The family used to be very well off,” she continued calmly. “But they have suffered losses recently. And all our friends and relatives know about Yagini. They have seen you these past seven years. Everyone knows you are still grieving.”

She paused before adding quietly, “No one wants their daughter to marry you knowing how much you loved Yagini.”

“So you want someone else to pay for it?” I asked dryly.

“No, Abhoy,” she said softly. “I just want to see my son happy.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the couch.

“They have agreed to the marriage. What happens after that depends on you.”

“I don’t think so…”

“You have my promise, Abhoy,” she interrupted gently. “I have watched you suffer for seven years.”

Her voice dropped. “Now I am asking you for something.” Her eyes searched my face. “Don’t I deserve some happiness too? Don’t I deserve to show off my daughter in law to the world? To all those ladies who keep taunting me?”

“Mom…”

“Please,” she said quickly. “The girl is perfect for you. She is bubbly. Talks a lot. Very sharp.”

A proud smile slowly spread across her face.

“She is a freelancer. That means she has her own business. Just like you.”

“Like me?” I raised an eyebrow. “And what business does she run?”

“She makes thread jewelry.”

I stared at her.

“Right,” I said dryly. “And I just build software that runs half the phones in this country and makes everyone’s life easier.”

“Let’s not get into details,” Maa said dismissively. “The point is she is a business woman at such a young age. You cannot ignore that.”

I chuckled under my breath as Maa beamed proudly.

Business woman. God. Only Maa could say that with such confidence.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it.

Yagini’s smiling face filled the screen.

For a second my chest eased.

Then the memory followed right behind it.

The accident.

She was driving that night. We had just left the party I had thrown for her. She had gotten a big promotion that week. Appointed as an AVP. I had been so proud of her that I booked the entire rooftop of the hotel and invited all our friends.

I should have remembered that night differently. Instead, all I remembered was the fight. She had told me she would have to travel to Dubai for a month for the new role. A short assignment, she had said.

I didn’t take it well. I kept arguing. I wish I had just stopped talking. But I didn’t.

And it took everything away from me.

Even now, years later, my mind sometimes froze at that exact moment. Like I was still there, sitting in the passenger seat while the city lights rushed past us.

“Shona…” Maa called softly.

She knew. She knew exactly where my mind had gone.

Back to that road. Back to that bridge.

I could still see it clearly. The truck suddenly swerving too close. The headlights flashing across the windshield. Yagini gripping the steering wheel as she tried to control the car. I snapped open my seatbelt and tried to control the car, but nothing worked.

I still remembered her screams. Then the screech of tires, the violent jerk when the truck clipped us. We were already at high speed. The car spun out of control before either of us could react.

The railing of the bridge came straight at us. Then the crash. Metal bending. Glass shattering. And the car plunging straight into the dark water below.

I let out a slow breath, forcing the memory away.

Work had been the only thing that kept me alive after that. The only place where my mind stayed quiet.

I had buried myself in it completely. Four years ago I even won one of those flashy business awards. Youngest billionaire under thirty.

None of it meant anything.

“It’s decided,” Maa said quietly, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with the end of her saree. “You are marrying the girl.”

I clenched my jaw, cursing silently.

“I cannot see you like this anymore,” she continued. “Promise me you will do nothing to break this marriage.”

“Maa…”

“Promise me.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, already exhausted.

“I promise,” I said finally. “But you know me. I don’t have the patience for a twenty one year old girl. She will not be able to adjust with me. With the life I live.”

“Shona,” Maa said gently, almost smiling now. “Girls this young adjust easily. Their minds are still flexible. You can guide them. Shape them the way you want.”

Her eyes softened.

“I want you to always take care of her. Promise me that. I know you are stubborn but I am sure she will always be happy under your care.”

I sighed.

“I don’t know about happiness,” I said honestly. “But I will take care of her.”

“And…”

I looked at her, already bracing myself.

“What now?”

“She may show resistance.”

“What?” I stared at her. “Maa… if she is not willing then we cannot go ahead with this. She has to be on board.”

Maa simply folded her hands calmly in her lap, as if the storm I was feeling meant nothing to her.

“You already promised me.”

“This is not fair,” I said, my voice tightening. “Just because we have money doesn’t mean we can do this. This is wrong. If she doesn’t want this marriage, we shouldn’t force it.”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building.

“I cannot love her. And you know my temper. I get angry easily.”

“Then love her,” Maa said quietly, as if it was the simplest solution in the world. “Give her all the happiness she deserves.”

Her gaze held mine steadily.

“She is your responsibility now, Abhoy. Remember that. What happens to her life will depend on you. Her life is in your hands.”

I looked away for a moment before speaking again.

“Then you and Baba need to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You will never interfere between us.”

Maa nodded slowly.

“We won’t,” she said. “I know someone so young will need guidance. You may have to be stern sometimes.” She paused, her expression turning serious. “But you will never raise your hand on her.”

“Maa… never,” I said immediately, almost shocked she could even think that. “I am my father’s son.”

Her face softened instantly.

She smiled and ran her fingers through my hair again, the way she had done since I was a child.

“I just want you to be happy,” she said quietly.

“We promise we will never interfere.”

Then she added softly, almost apologetically, “I know we are using our power and money here. But I will take care of her, Shona. Just like I take care of Ishwari and Ishika.”

I exhaled slowly. “Thank you.”

Then I straightened slightly. “Who is the family?”

“Amitava Bagchi,” she replied. “They make gold jewelry. His younger brother, Bhaskor Bagchi, has a daughter. Only one.” She smiled faintly. “He is a professor.”

“Give me his number.”

“You will talk to them?” Maa’s smile widened immediately, hope lighting up her face.

I couldn’t help smirking slightly.

“Yes. I need to make some things clear.”

My mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she stood up and hurried downstairs to bring her phone.

Mehek Bagchi.

I could never forget Yagini. My parents had been waiting for years for me to say I was ready to move on. Ready to live again. But that moment had never come, and it probably never would. Now I had no other option but to do this for them.

My heart had gone with Yagini that night. Whatever remained of me now simply existed. Maybe that twenty one year old girl would be fine with that. I would give her everything she could ever want. A big house, security, comfort, every luxury she could have dreamed of.

Only love, I couldn’t give her. That part of me was gone. It had never returned.

What I could give her was stability. Protection. A life where she would never have to struggle for anything.

And control. That part was necessary. The Chatterjee name carried weight, reputation, expectations. I couldn’t allow chaos inside my own house. My parents had already endured too much because of me.

My mother returned a few minutes later, holding a file in one hand and a small piece of paper in the other with a number scribbled across it. She could have simply given me the file. I was sure the number must have been written somewhere inside it. Still, I smiled my thanks as she placed both into my hand.

She looked happy again.

Really happy.

Hope had returned to her face in a way I had not seen in years. I let out a quiet sigh as she leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on my forehead.

She was murmuring something softly under her breath.

I tilted my head slightly, trying to catch the words.

Everything will get better now. My Shona will be happy. The house will be filled with happiness again.

I said nothing. Instead, I waited until she left the room before turning my attention to the file.

Next business.

Amitava Bagchi.

He was not the girl’s father but according to Maa he handled most of the decisions in their family. I opened the file and frowned almost immediately.

This was not basic information.

It was a complete background check.

The same kind we ran on our business partners or senior employees before entering any deal with them. Balance sheets. Property details. Loan statements.

Why would Baba run something like this on them?

I walked to the chair near my desk and sat down, placing the file flat on the table before flipping through the pages slowly.

The numbers spoke clearly.

Losses.

Loans.

Legal pressure.

Pending payments.

By the time I reached the last page the picture had become very clear.

“Oh,” I murmured quietly to myself.

Now I understood why they had agreed to this marriage so quickly.

I leaned back in the chair for a moment before picking up my phone.

If this marriage was happening, things needed to be clear from the beginning. If I was putting money into their failing business, I would not do it blindly.

But one question bothered me.

Did Mehek know?

Did she know why her family had suddenly agreed to marry her to a man twelve years older than her?

The call connected after a few rings.

“Hello…”

“This is Abhoy Chatterjee.”

There was a short pause before the voice on the other end warmed.

“Oh… son… we are waiting to welcome you tonight.”

“I need to make certain things clear before we go ahead,” I said calmly. “I know why you agreed to this arrangement.”

I avoided the word marriage. At the moment it felt more like a transaction than anything sacred.

“Sure son,” he replied carefully. “We can talk.”

“I will give you the money,” I said plainly. “And the partnership your business needs.”

Silence followed for a brief moment.

“But I will take control of the company.”

“But…”

“That is the only way I am going to put my money into your business,” I said, my voice firm enough to end the discussion before it even began.

The line went quiet.

I leaned back slightly in my chair and waited.

Dad would understand. And he would explain things to Maa. I needed control. Not because I enjoyed it, but because it was necessary. For the past seven years I had barely existed. I had worked, built my company, attended meetings, signed deals, but the rest of my life had been empty.

Even smiling had become a task.

Unless you counted the polite, lifeless smile I forced for my parents during family dinners.

I couldn’t love again. That part of me was finished.

So rules were necessary.

Without them everything would fall apart.

And there was one thing I could never allow.

No one would tarnish the Chatterjee name.

“Okay, son,” Amitava Bagchi finally said, his voice slower now. “You will be the decision maker at Bagchi Jewelers.”

“Another thing.”

“Yes?”

“I get complete control of Mehek,” I said calmly. “Even before we get married. I will be the decision maker for her as well.”

There was a small sound on the other end of the call. Almost like he had swallowed hard.

But I had seen enough of old business families to understand one thing about them.

Reputation mattered more than anything.

They would sacrifice comfort, pride, even family arguments to protect their name.

“Of course,” he said after a moment. “She will be your wife. Naturally she will listen to you.”

“Before marriage too,” I clarified. “During the wedding rituals, the arrangements, everything. I will decide.”

“Yes… son.”

His voice sounded careful now.

“Why don’t all of you come to our house tonight,” I continued. “That will give Mehek a chance to…”

I paused.

The name felt strange in my mouth.

Mehek.

Fragrance. Smell. For a moment another voice echoed in my head. Yagini loved to smell things. It was her thing.

“Abhoy, come here. Look at this.”

I smiled. Yamini looked adorable. Standing in front of the canvas with paint smudged across her fingers.

“What do you think?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “Do you like the painting?”

“It’s beautiful,” I said, studying the soft colors spreading across the canvas. “But why do you always paint beaches?”

She laughed lightly. “Because they are the most beautiful creation of God.”

Then she looked up at me with that familiar sparkle in her eyes.

“I want to get married on a beach someday. Whenever I paint beaches, I can almost smell the water, the breeze, the allure of the place.”

“You got it,” I said without hesitation.

“Son?”

The voice on the phone pulled me back.

I blinked and forced the memory away.

“She will get a chance to see the house,” I finished calmly.

“Of course,” Amitava said quickly. “That is a good idea.”

“Great,” I said. “We will see you tonight.”

I ended the call and placed the phone down on the table.

Life that had stood still for years was suddenly moving again.

The last time my parents had spoken to me about marriage, I had refused to even consider it. I had shut the conversation down before it could begin. Something must have changed now.

Maa must have seen something in this girl.

Mehek Bagchi.

But she was only twenty one.

That number stayed with me, circling in my head like an annoying echo. Twenty one felt too young. Too untouched by the world. It felt as if I was walking straight into someone else’s life and quietly ruining it.

Twenty one was the age of big dreams and bigger plans. The age where the world still looked wide and full of possibilities.

How had she agreed to this?

Or maybe she hadn’t.

Maybe no one had told her the whole truth yet.

Maa had said she might show resistance. The thought made my jaw tighten slightly. What then? Would I have to push her through everything? Guide every step? Control every decision?

The idea didn’t sit well with me, but neither did the alternative.

Life in the Chatterjee house was not simple. Our family name came with expectations. Social gatherings. Charity events. Endless business parties where every smile was calculated and every conversation carried weight.

People watched us.

Judged us.

Remembered every little thing.

It wasn’t a life for someone unprepared.

Maa had described her as bubbly, talkative, and sharp. I leaned back in my chair, staring absently at the ceiling, trying to imagine what kind of girl would walk into a house like ours without hesitation.

Let’s see how long that brightness lasts.

I grabbed my laptop bag and headed downstairs.

The house was quiet again. Maa was nowhere in sight. Probably already planning the evening like a general preparing for war. I walked into Baba’s study and found him sitting behind his desk, glasses low on his nose as he scanned through a stack of papers.

“Dinner is happening here tonight,” I told him. “I shifted the meeting to our place.”

He looked up at me for a moment, studying my face as if trying to read something there. Then he simply nodded once and went back to his papers.

That was Baba. Few words. No unnecessary questions. But I saw the smile on his face. He was happy but not showing it.

I left the study and headed out like it was just another normal day. But it wasn’t. The script had flipped once again, and everything had changed.

My life had taken a turn I hadn’t seen coming.

Before leaving my room earlier, I had slipped something out of the file Maa had brought. At the time I had done it without thinking. Now, sitting in the back seat of the car as it rolled out of the driveway,

I reached into my bag and pulled it out. It was a simple envelope. Inside it was her photograph. I didn’t know why I had taken it or what I was expecting to feel after seeing it. Maybe nothing. Maybe curiosity. Maybe I simply wanted to look once at the girl my mother had chosen for me without hesitation.

I wanted to once look at her, the girl my mother fell in love with at first sight.

I held the envelope between my fingers for a moment before opening it. Then I slid the photograph out slowly and looked at it. My eyes moved across the image carefully, scanning every detail without rushing. The brightness in her eyes, the open smile, the softness of her face. I studied the photograph the way someone studies a painting, trying to read the emotions hidden behind the surface.

My mother had been right. She was beautiful. Not the kind of beauty that demanded attention the moment she entered a room, but the kind that quietly stayed with you after you looked away.

I could also see exactly what had convinced Maa the moment she saw her. There was a strange kind of optimism on her face, something bright and fearless. She looked like someone who believed she could take on the world and somehow win.

Her features were soft and round, her skin clear and untouched by worry. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders, slightly messy as if she had not bothered to fix it before the photograph was taken.

But inside me nothing moved. No spark rose in my chest, no curiosity stirred, no warmth followed the sight of her. That part of me had died a long time ago and nothing could bring it back.

Still, there was something about her face that made me continue looking at the photograph longer than I intended. Something quiet and unguarded rested in her expression. Something I could feel but could not properly explain. It was almost like a faint pull, something subtle that I could notice but not understand. I could see it, but I could not dissect it.

Mehek Bagchi was innocently beautiful, and those big light brown eyes looked like they had not yet learned how cruel fate could be. But fate was not just cruel. It enjoyed the pain it created. It enjoyed watching people struggle against things they could never control.

Sighing, I slipped the photograph back into the envelope and held it in my hand for a moment before putting it away.

I would take care of her. That much I could promise.

But I just hoped she did not have any dreams about love, because that was the one thing I could never give her.

The End of Chapter 2 of Destined: A Marriage of Convenience Love Story. Thank you for reading it.
Stay tuned for the next chapter.

Author Payal Dedhia independently publishes books on Amazon. You can check out her collection by clicking here.

If you like Dark Romance Fiction, do read my Sctintilla Series. Click here to read.

Aayansh Ahluwalia isn’t just a billionaire business tycoon—he’s the kind of man who haunts people’s nightmares. The world may recognize Scintilla Corporations as a legitimate empire, but Aayansh isn’t confined to the light. In the shadows, he commands an empire of fear, power, and blood. He rules over the underdogs, the darkness that terrifies everyone else.
Ruthless and untouchable, they call him a devil for a reason—he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t blink when it comes to taking lives.
His existence is fearless. His power, unmatched. Yet beneath the wealth and carnage lies a void—a darkness so complete it consumes him. There’s no light, no hope. Just emptiness stretching endlessly, leaving him hollow.
Then, one night, everything changed.
He saw her—a woman so radiant, so full of life, she made his chaos stand still. She erupted into his world like a dream, settling in his heart and claiming it as her own.
Tisha Chopra.
Aayansh hadn’t been searching for her, hadn’t asked for her. But the moment he saw her, he knew—she would be his.
She didn’t belong in his world, and that only made him want her more. Her laughter, her light—it wasn’t meant to survive the darkness he thrived in, yet it pulled him in, unrelenting. Like a predator to prey, he followed. He didn’t want her to save him. No. He wanted to ruin her, piece by piece, until she belonged to him completely. He would drag her down, crown her queen in his Devil’s Paradise, and make her sit beside him on the devil’s throne while he ruled the world.

What unfolds is a story steeped in obsession, control, and desire—a dangerous game where love is a battlefield, and submission comes at the cost of a soul.
Scintilla isn’t just the name of Aayansh’s empire; it’s the pulse of this saga—a place where power thrives and morality dies.

The series is divided into four phases:

🔥 The Chase – Where the predator finds his prey. Click here to read.

The Beginning – A collision of worlds. A spark ignited.
Unveiling Paradise – Her light tempts the darkness.
The Masked Guy – Secrets wear masks. So do devils.
Unleashing the Demons – Once awakened, there’s no turning back.
The Winner – Victory tastes sweeter when claimed by force.

🔥 The Possession – Where obsession takes root. Click here to read.

New Beginning – The chase ends. The real game begins.
The Rules – Boundaries are set, only to be broken.
Gilded Cage – Possession doesn’t feel like freedom.
Unleashed Fury – When control falters, chaos reigns.
Ensnared Hearts – Hearts trapped, souls scarred.

🔥 The Submission – Where surrender is demanded, not given. Click here to read.

Her Resistance – Light fights back. Darkness pushes harder.
Her Confession – Truths whispered in the dark.
The Good Times – A fleeting calm before the storm.
The Devil Struck – The predator strikes. The angel shatters.
Angel’s Judgement – When love turns to reckoning.

🔥 The Reward – Where love and darkness collide, leaving nothing unscarred. Click here to read.

The Storm – Chaos erupts, tearing apart the fragile ties of love and power.
The Punishment – Sins are judged, debts are paid, and vengeance claims its due.
Maalik – Sneak peek into Maurya Ahluwalia’s life
The Aftermath – Amid the wreckage, the cost of darkness comes to light.
Devastation – Another peek at Akhil and Inaaya’s life.
The Dawn – Hope flickers, fragile and hesitant, in the ruins of despair.
Devil’s Endgame – It’s time for the final move. What would be the devil’s endgame?