Childhood Rivals

The grand Sharma estate was buzzing with laughter and music, children running across the vast garden while the elders sat under the gazebo, sipping tea and discussing business. It was one of those summer evenings where the Malhotras and Sharmas gathered, bound by years of friendship.

But amidst the peaceful gathering, a storm brewed.

"Give it back, Aarav!" Anaya yelled, her tiny fists clenched at her sides.

Aarav, standing a few steps away, smirked as he twirled the red ribbon between his fingers—the same ribbon Anaya always wore in her hair. "Why should I?" he teased, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Because it's mine!" Anaya stomped her foot, her small frame shaking with anger.

Aarav chuckled, holding the ribbon higher just out of her reach. "Then come and take it, Sharma."

Anaya didn’t hesitate. She lunged at him, grabbing at his arm, but Aarav was faster. He sidestepped, causing her to stumble forward and land face-first on the grass.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Anaya lifted her head, eyes burning with fury. "I hate you!" she shouted.

Aarav only laughed. "Then this is going to be fun."

____

Twelve-year-old Anaya Sharma tightened her grip on the cricket bat, her hazel eyes burning with determination. The summer sun blazed overhead, but she didn’t care. Today, she was going to prove a point.

Across the field stood fifteen-year-old Aarav Malhotra, watching her with that infuriating smirk—the one that always made her want to punch him.

"You sure about this, Sharma?" Aarav taunted, twirling the cricket ball in his fingers. His tall, lean frame radiated confidence, his brown eyes glinting with amusement.

"I don’t lose," she shot back, planting her feet firmly.

His smirk widened. "You will today."

The match was supposed to be friendly. Their families often vacationed together, and the neighborhood kids had gathered for a game. But for Aarav and Anaya, nothing was ever friendly. It was always a competition—a battle neither could afford to lose.

Aarav took his position, rolling his shoulders. Then, without warning, he bowled—fast, precise, and brutal.

The ball soared toward her.

Anaya swung with all her might.

Crack!

The bat connected, sending the ball flying past Aarav’s head. The kids erupted in cheers as she dropped the bat and grinned.

But Aarav didn’t move.

Instead, he walked toward her, slow and deliberate. The air shifted as he stopped just inches away, towering over her.

"Beginner’s luck," he murmured.

Anaya lifted her chin defiantly. "Or maybe you’re just not as good as you think."

For the first time, his smirk faltered—just slightly.

And that was the moment Anaya knew—this was far from over.

---

12 Years Ago – A War of Words

"Congratulations to the winner of this year’s inter-school debate competition… Anaya Sharma!"

Applause filled the auditorium as Anaya stood, her heart racing with exhilaration. She had worked for this, fought for this. And more importantly, she had beaten him.

She turned slightly, her hazel eyes finding Aarav in the crowd. He was seventeen now, taller, sharper, his presence more commanding than ever. But for once, he wasn’t smirking.

As she walked off the stage, he intercepted her, blocking her path.

"Enjoy it while you can, Sharma," he said, voice calm but laced with something darker.

She arched a brow. "Jealous?"

His lips curled slightly. "I don’t lose."

Anaya’s smile was sweet, mocking. "Then what do you call today?"

His gaze held hers, unwavering. Then, he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"A temporary setback."

And two months later, when Aarav won the National Business Strategy Championship—the one she had desperately wanted—that smirk was back.

That was the moment Anaya realized—this wasn’t just rivalry.

It was war.

The enmity between Aarav Malhotra and Anaya Sharma hadn’t started overnight. It was a fire that had been burning for years, ignited in childhood and fueled by every battle they had fought since.

Their families had always been close—old friendships bound by trust, respect, and power. Their grandfathers had built empires side by side, their fathers had expanded them, and naturally, the Malhotras and the Sharmas had expected their children to follow the same legacy.

But Aarav and Anaya had never seen each other as anything but rivals.

From the moment they were old enough to speak, they had clashed.

At six years old, Anaya had pushed Aarav into a fountain because he stole her chocolate. At ten, he had locked her in a storage room during a family gathering, just to prove she wasn’t as fearless as she claimed.

By sixteen, their battles had turned more calculated—competing for the highest grades, the best internships, the most powerful connections. Anaya had prided herself on outsmarting Aarav in business strategies, while he had taken pleasure in proving he was always two steps ahead.

Their war had only intensified when they took over their family businesses. Their companies were constantly at each other’s throats—stealing clients, undercutting deals, challenging each other at every turn.

They were fire and gasoline, destined to destroy each other.

Or so they thought.

Present Day – The Trap

Anaya sat in her glass-walled office, overlooking the Mumbai skyline. The CEO of A.S. Enterprises. Independent. Unstoppable.

She had built this company from nothing. A.S. Enterprises wasn’t handed to her—it was hers. Every deal, every success, every empire she conquered in the business world was because of her own hard work.

Unlike Sharma Corporation, which was her family’s legacy, A.S. Enterprises was her own creation. A company she had nurtured, fought for, and built from scratch into one of the most powerful firms in the industry.

She had crushed competitors, dominated markets—and kept Aarav Malhotra at bay.

Until now.

Her office door burst open without warning. She didn’t need to look up. She knew that presence.

Aarav.

Tall, imposing, dressed in a tailored three-piece suit that screamed power. His brown eyes locked onto her like a predator sizing up his prey.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, standing.

His smirk was slow, dangerous. "We need to talk."

"There’s nothing to talk about, Malhotra. Get out."

His hands slid into his pockets, his stance relaxed but commanding. "Oh, but there is. You just don’t know it yet."

Anaya’s patience snapped. "You’re wasting my time—"

A file landed on her desk. She frowned.

"What’s this?"

"Your worst nightmare," Aarav murmured.

She opened it—and the ground beneath her shifted.

Her heart pounded as she scanned the pages. Documents. Evidence. A scandal that could destroy Sharma Corporation.

But it wasn’t just any deal.

It was a merger agreement between her father, Pratap Sharma, and a now-defunct company that had been blacklisted for financial fraud. A shell corporation.

And the worst part? Her father’s signature was there.

The deal had never gone through—her father had backed out at the last minute. But the signed preliminary agreement was enough to make it look like Sharma Corporation had been involved in corruption.

If this went public, it would destroy everything.

Her hands clenched. "You bastard."

Aarav leaned in, placing his hands on her desk, his smirk never fading. "You see, Sharma, I always win. And this time? You’re out of moves."

She slammed the file shut. "What do you want?"

His gaze darkened. "Marry me."

Anaya’s breath caught.

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, she let out a bitter laugh. "You’re insane."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But it’s the only way you save your company. Your family."

Her stomach twisted. "You planned this, didn’t you?"

His smirk was pure arrogance. "I don’t leave things to chance."

She wanted to scream. To throw something. To fight back.

But she couldn’t.

Because no matter how much she hated him, he was right.

If she didn’t agree, Sharma Corporation would crumble. The media would tear her family apart.

She had no choice.

"Fine," she bit out. "I’ll marry you."

Aarav straightened, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Good girl."

Anaya’s jaw tightened. "But don’t think for a second that I will ever be yours."

Aarav reached out, tracing a single finger along her jaw, his touch featherlight yet possessive.

"You already are."

And just like that, the war was sealed with a vow.

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