PROLOGUE
Dhwani looked at her husband with utter disappointment. Her eyes burned holes in his frame as he ate his plate of breakfast without a word or an emotion. She was yet to see one on his poker face in the last 2 years. The face which seemed to be designed with utter time and details lacked colors of emotions and feelings.
The only one she had witnessed in his eyes is hatred, an emotion so powerful that it had her inside clutched with resentment towards herself. She cursed her one weak moment which led them to this.
Married, yet strangers who shared an apartment but never exchanged a word.
He looked up but his eyes darted towards the clock hanging on the wall behind her, never they rested on her for more than a second.
She doubted if he will remember her face if she ever bumped into him on a deserted road.
He wouldn't acknowledge her, she was sure about it.
Letting out an inaudible groan she nibbled on her plate of fruits and let her fingers play with the nuptial bracelet she had carried for part 2 years. She didn't wear the chain, not when she didn't feel married.
Though for the sake of the tiny guilt, she felt for bringing this unwanted bond on both of them, she wore it as a sign to remind her of her weak moment.
She watched him leave the door and the feeling came back. The place felt cold and empty, even with his presence or without it, it was the same.
She shook her head as she marked another day on the calendar.
Another day of this miserable married life.
She took a small glance at her face in the mirror, adjusting the black bindi in the middle of her eyebrows, and moved out.
She had to make her mandatory visit to all three of the orphanages under the Gayatri Devi Foundation â CSR project of Chouhan Industries which was managed by her husband.
The one and only, Anirudh Chouhan.
The eldest of the three Chouhan brothers.
She scoffed seeing his face plastered on the magazine cover, once again the photographer had tried his best to make him look less serious and approachable but she knew the truth.
The man was a sleeping anaconda, touch him and he will swallow you whole.
Paying the taxi driver, she walked past the iron gates of the orphanage â the place she had spent her early life until at the age of fourteen she was offered a scholarship from a local boarding school and then onwards, she had never looked back, she only returned here as a management representative, in the hope of giving back what she had received.
She nodded with a smile towards the caretaker and quickly divulged her checks.
This place made her feel alive. The small smiles of toddlers had her waking up, running, and kicking each day for the last 2 years that she started working in the Chauhan industries â managing the CSR department and making sure the people knew how big-hearted the family was, and how kind her husband was to the deprived souls.
Just like he was kind enough to marry her, yet make her regret it each day.
It was almost evening when she reached the lawyer's office, the glass doors parted and the cool AC air hit her with force, calming the sweat bids from the scorching sun.
"Evening, Trisha." She tapped at the reception smiling, earning the attention of the familiar receptionist she had met before.
"I am here to meet Kaushik Agarwal." She gave the name and the girl switched between the tabs on her desktop.
"May I know your name again, please?" She asked politely but was embarrassed by the lack of memory.
Well, it seems no one remembered her face or existence.
"Dhwani...Dhwani Chouhan." She winced at the ring of the name.
"Thank you for sharing the same, Mrs. Chouhan." Trisha passed her brief smile. "May I know your reason for the visit?"
"I'm here to collect my Divorce papers."
â â â â â
"Cut"
The voice echoed on the sets and Uttara flinched out of her character.
She stepped back from her co-actor who passed her a smirk. She hugged herself tight and turned her back towards him as her secretary ran and wrapped a warm jacket around her scintillating outfit which she had to wear for this scene.
"Good job, Both of you. Let's take this to the next location." The director clapped cheerfully and the crew visibly groaned as they once again have to wrap here and set up at a new location.
The perks of being a part of show business.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Farhan asked passing her a Styrofoam cup with the burning liquid which could calm her insides from the freezing temperatures of this place.
"Thank you. Where is my phone?" She asked distracted to find her device which seemed her lifeline at the moment. "Were there any calls or texts?"
She snatched the phone from Nitya's hands dumping the cup on her much to Farhan's disdain.
"No, it was as silent as the sea." Nitya rolled her eyes and sipped from the untouched cup.
Uttara swiped the screen to unlock and her hopes extinguished seeing her notifications blank. She checked the internet connection and then surfed to the messaging app to see her texts delivered, yet unread.
The disappointment settled into her chest as she scrolled through the one-sided chat. The updates on her location, shoot, and the scenes she was to be performing. The texts asking for his consent were all unread.
"Why do you leave a text to him before any of the scenes when he doesn't even care about replying to them?" Farhan gritted as he glared at the sides of her face.
"Because he is my husband." She answered looking up. Whether he cares about her line of work or not, it was conscience to ask for his opinion on the movies and scenes she takes up.
She has been doing this every day, for the past 6 months that they are married.
You don't look this desperate, Uttara." Farhan whispered looking at her with longing in his eyes, something she felt uncomfortable witnessing.
"I'm not desperate." She stated with finality and marched up and inside her vanity. Leaning against the closed door she glanced at his chat window which never had any replies from him. It felt like she was talking to herself, dropping texts for her happiness.
"How asking for my husband's consent on scandalous scenes desperation?" Uttara scowled "He is my husband and he has a right to know what kind of work I'm doing. I don't want him to misunderstand me or my actions. I have enough respect for him to ever tarnish his image."
She nodded to herself and kicked every other thought out.
Quickly changing into her warm sweater and jeans, she tied her hair in a bun and pulled the face mask after cleaning her makeup.
She was tired.
Not because of the work but feeling this gnawing hurt that settled in her heart every time she waited for his reply.
She did not expect him to call, ofcourse not.
He was a surgeon, a busy one at that but can he not even read her texts and react? She does not expect a word, but only a reaction.
She chuckled at the thought, he would never show any to her.
Vidyut Chouhan hated emotions and he would never show any, anything for that matter.
And, Uttara Chouhan was no different.
â â â â
"A contract?"
Earning a nod from him as he sat infront of her, she blinked in surprise at the new piece of information.
They were sitting in the most secluded corner of this terrace restaurant, sipping into old monk together and discussing the most awaited plan, something they couldn't wait or hold back for.
"I am doing no contract, not with you." She said crossing her arms and staring at the man who smiled like he wasn't rejected just a second before.
"And why is that? You know we don't play dirty. Why are you denying me?" He asked leaning at the table, his shirt sleeves rolled up and jacket missing, his tie was gone and the top two buttons opened as the wind played with the fabric, giving her a good look.
"I am not denying you." She said leaning forward, breathing into the same air as his "I am rejecting you."
"You are funny." He laughed and shook his head, eyes twirling in amusement seeing her tilt her head in mockery. "There is no option for rejection, my dear. Either you accept it or keep delaying it and accept it after I coerce you, but you will have to accept my offer. I assure you that this will be the best one you will get."
"Best one?" She snorted "I would rather sell my soul to the devil than join hands with you. I have known you my entire life and nothing that works in that head of yours is good. You don't play dirty, you play downright ugly."
Gulping her glass, she picked up her clutch to stand up when she was yanked back to her seat.
"You are reaching the end. You know you are near and only I can save you, more like we together can save you." He said glaring, his mismatched grey eyes stared into hers making a shiver run down her spine.
"I am not. I will bounce back but I'll never take your help. Not yours." She gritted yanking her hand away from his hold. "Do not stop me if you wish to have this face intact."
"50 lakhs a month." He announced halting her steps. "I will give you 50 lakhs a month, every month till you decide to work for this contract."
She turned and glared at him with a clenched jaw.
"You have my word, Meri jaan." He walked towards her, ending the distance with a lop-sided smile.
"Do not call me that." She hissed but he ignored holding her wrist, she checked the time and smiled.
"The time is up, Cinderella." He gestured as the minute hand reached 12 "Take up the deal before you leave, can you?"
"I am not taking it." She wiggled out of his hold "I am not at the end of my career that I will work with you. Never."
"You are being reckless here." He sighed and pocketed his palms. "Why do you want to strive hard and try to bounce back when I am ready to pull you up?"
"Why are you doing this?" She breathed in a complaining whisper. "Let me do my thing."
"1 crore." He bargained. "Every month, a crore, Meri jaan. It will be enough to put an end to all your problems."
"You know how to manipulate people, don't you Rakshit Chouhan?" She smacked on his chest while he smirked victoriously.
"Nope," He popped "I do not manipulate people. I do it only for you, Shreya Thapar. Only you."