Arjun Khurana sat in his grand office, a space that exuded power and dominance. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows framed the breathtaking view of the bustling city below, but his eyes remained indifferent to the world outside. He was a man of quiet strength, his presence alone enough to make people tremble. The CEO of the country’s most powerful production house, his name alone held the weight to make or break careers in the entertainment industry. Yet, despite ruling over an empire where every aspiring actor dreamed to work, Arjun Khurana was an enigma. The world knew his name, but his face remained a mystery. He despised the limelight, choosing to let his influence speak for itself.

His father, Gajendra Khurana, sat across from him, his expression twisted in barely contained rage. His fingers clenched into fists before he slammed them against the solid wooden table, the sharp sound echoing through the room.

"You cannot defy me like this!" Gajendra thundered, his voice reverberating with authority. His fury was barely masked, but he tried to rein it in as he continued, "I want to see you married, without any conditions or obligations."

Arjun remained composed, his fingers lightly tapping the side of his coffee cup. Unlike his father, he didn’t believe in raising his voice to assert dominance. His control was his greatest weapon. Taking a measured sip of his black coffee, he finally responded, his voice calm yet firm.

"I don’t want to marry," he stated plainly, setting the cup back on the table. His tone was indifferent, but his words carried an unshakable finality. "She is unclassy, uncultured, and clingy. She doesn’t even come close to what I would expect in a wife."

Gajendra exhaled sharply, attempting to suppress his anger. "You will turn thirty next month, Arjun," he said, his voice more measured this time. "It is imperative for our empire that you marry and provide an heir as soon as possible."

Arjun remained silent, his gaze steady. Gajendra took his silence as an opportunity to continue.

"I was twenty-three when I married your mother and had you by twenty-four. Despite that, I built this company into an empire and raised you to take it even further," his father added, as if presenting a lesson.

Arjun’s lips curled into a mirthless smile as he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you raised me?" he asked, his voice carrying an underlying weight that was hard to ignore.

Gajendra stiffened at the remark but chose to brush past it. He had no patience for Arjun’s cryptic statements. "Leave it," he muttered, shaking his head. "The fact remains—I will not allow you to refuse this proposal. Your wedding was arranged a long time ago. What do you expect me to tell her father now?"

Arjun exhaled, his patience thinning. Rising from his chair, he turned toward the massive glass window, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stared at the cityscape stretching beneath them. His world was vast, yet it felt suffocating at times—especially when his father tried to dictate his choices.

"If you want to see me married, I will marry by my choice," he stated, his tone unwavering. "I will choose my wife, and no one else."

The words hung in the air, a direct challenge to his father’s authority. Gajendra clenched his jaw, his mind already spinning with ways to ensure his son’s compliance. But Arjun Khurana was not a man who could be controlled easily.

Gajendra Khurana’s jaw tightened as he stared at his son’s back, his fingers gripping the edge of the table in frustration. He had built an empire, raised a son destined to inherit his legacy, yet Arjun dared to defy him so easily. Gajendra was not a man who took no for an answer.

A slow, calculating smirk replaced his anger as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "You think you have a choice in this, Arjun?" His voice was deceptively calm, carrying the weight of a man who always got what he wanted.

Arjun remained unmoved, his gaze still fixed on the city outside. "I don’t think, I know," he replied coolly.

Gajendra chuckled darkly. "Then let me correct that illusion for you." He leaned forward, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "If you refuse this marriage, I will personally see to it that your beloved company, your empire, crumbles to dust."

Arjun's fingers twitched slightly, the only indication that his father’s words had struck a nerve. Gajendra smirked, knowing he had found the right pressure point.

"I built Khurana Productions from nothing," Gajendra continued. "And just as easily, I can take it away. You may be the CEO, but the power, the control—everything—still rests in my hands. One press conference, one bad deal, and your untouchable image will shatter."

Arjun exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable, but his grip on the glass railing tightened. His father had always been ruthless, but this was a new low, even for him.

Gajendra wasn’t done. He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. "Not just the company, Arjun. If I want, I can ruin the careers of every actor and director associated with you. Do you think the industry will stand by you when I pull the strings? The dream they chase is mine to grant or destroy."

Arjun turned slightly, his sharp eyes finally meeting his father’s, a silent battle of wills taking place between them.

"You’ve always been a businessman first, father," he said quietly. "Even when it came to me."

Gajendra smiled, tilting his head. "And that’s why I win, always. Emotions don’t cloud my judgment."

Silence stretched between them. Arjun was a man who never bowed to pressure, never let emotions dictate his decisions. But this wasn’t just about him—this was about his people, his company, the empire he had built with his own blood and sweat. His father knew exactly where to strike.

For the first time, Arjun felt the weight of his father’s control tightening around his throat like an invisible noose.

"So?" Gajendra’s voice was almost amused. "Will you marry willingly, or shall I make an example out of you?"

Arjun inhaled deeply, turning his gaze back to the city. His jaw clenched as rage began coursing through his veins, yet he maintained his composure, keeping his demeanor calm despite the storm brewing within him.

He had always been in control—of his decisions, his emotions, his life. But at this moment, his father’s words echoed in his mind like a relentless drumbeat, forcing him to acknowledge the harsh reality. Gajendra Khurana wasn’t just threatening him; he was making a promise.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. The weight of expectation hung heavily in the air, but Arjun refused to break under it. Slowly, he turned back to face his father, his eyes dark and calculating.

"You’ve always known how to manipulate situations in your favor," Arjun said, his voice measured. "But tell me, father, is forcing me into this marriage truly about securing an heir, or is it about controlling me?"

Gajendra smirked, leaning back in his chair, his confidence unwavering. "It’s about securing the future. A future you seem to believe is entirely in your hands. But let me remind you, Arjun—you exist in the world I built."

Arjun’s fingers curled into fists at his sides, but he remained composed. "You may have built it, but I made it what it is today."

Gajendra exhaled, shaking his head as if amused by his son’s defiance. "And yet, here you are, standing on the edge of losing it all. Do you truly think you can afford to fight me on this?"

Arjun’s gaze didn’t waver. He could feel the invisible chains tightening around him, forcing him into a decision he didn’t want to make. Every fiber of his being rejected the idea of being controlled, but he wasn’t reckless—he knew when a battle couldn’t be won outright.

After a long pause, he exhaled sharply, tilting his head slightly. "Fine," he said, his tone devoid of emotion. "I’ll marry."

Gajendra’s expression flickered with triumph, but before he could revel in his victory, Arjun continued.

"But on my terms" he added, his tone edged with quiet authority. "No grand wedding, no unnecessary spectacle. A simple court marriage. Quick. Clean. And completely under my control."

For the first time, a shadow of surprise passed over Gajendra’s face. "A court marriage?" he repeated, his smirk faltering.

"Yes," Arjun affirmed, his voice unwavering. "If this marriage is about business, then let’s treat it like one. I’ll sign the papers, and that’s it. No ceremonies, no media circus, no family interference."

Gajendra studied him, as if trying to assess whether this was a new form of rebellion. Then, after a moment, his smirk returned. "Very well," he said smoothly. "Let’s see how long you hold onto that illusion of control, son."

Arjun didn’t respond. He had agreed, but deep down, he knew—this wasn’t over. This was just the beginning of a game where both players refused to lose.

He stepped out of his father’s cabin, his expression unreadable, his mind a whirlwind of calculations. The tension of the conversation still lingered, but he refused to let it affect his demeanor. Years of discipline had taught him the power of control, and right now, control was all he had.

The corridor leading to the private elevator was eerily silent, except for the faint hum of the city beyond the glass walls. His footsteps echoed against the marble floor as he walked with measured strides, his black suit crisp, his presence commanding.

By the time he reached the elevator, his personal assistant, Dev, was already standing there, waiting for him. Unlike the rest of the staff, Dev had been with Arjun long enough to read the shifts in his mood, no matter how well he concealed them.

The elevator doors slid open, and both men stepped inside. As the glass-walled lift descended from the 36th floor, Arjun’s gaze remained fixed on the skyline. The city stretched endlessly before him, its lights flickering like distant stars. To the world, he was an untouchable force—powerful, enigmatic, and in complete control. But inside this confined space, reality pressed against him like an invisible weight.

Dev finally broke the silence. "Sir, should I make arrangements for the engagement ceremony?" he asked carefully, aware that any misstep could result in Arjun’s cold displeasure.

Arjun let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping against his wrist. "No engagement," he stated, his voice devoid of emotion. "Make arrangements for a court marriage instead."

Dev’s eyes widened slightly, though he quickly masked his surprise. "Court marriage?" he repeated, ensuring he had heard correctly.

"Yes," Arjun confirmed, his tone firm. "I don’t have the patience for extravagant celebrations. Get everything done discreetly. No media, no family interference. I want it over with as soon as possible."

Dev gave a small nod, instantly switching to work mode. "Understood, sir. I’ll handle the legal formalities and ensure complete confidentiality."

The elevator reached the basement parking, and the doors slid open. Arjun stepped out, heading straight toward his sleek black Maybach parked in its usual reserved spot. The chauffeur stood by the car, ready to open the door, but Arjun gestured for him to step aside.

"I’ll drive," he muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat without another word.

Dev hesitated for a second before stepping back. "I’ll update you once everything is arranged," he said before watching as Arjun started the engine, his grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly.

As the car sped out of the underground parking, disappearing into the night, Arjun’s mind was already working through the next move. If his father thought he could dictate his life, he was sorely mistaken. Arjun Khurana never played by anyone else’s rules. And if he was going to be forced into marriage, he would do it his way.