Chapter 10: Price Tags and Betrayal

I never intended to accept Amit’s offer. Even if my marriage was only for show, Dadi’s lessons echoed in my mind: never sell your dignity for money.

But then, the TV blared breaking news—Arjun had gifted a ₹10 crore necklace to a famous actress. The anchor’s voice rose above the kitchen clatter, “Malhotra scion’s latest gift stuns Bollywood!”

My hands trembled around my chai cup. The staff’s eyes flicked from the TV to me, lips pursed, as if waiting for me to break.

Arjun only gave me ₹10,000 a month, but spent crores on someone else. My eyes stung, but I refused to let the staff see my pain.

That night, I waited up for Arjun in the living room, the clock ticking and my old memories replaying like a tired serial.

At 2 a.m., he staggered in, smelling of whisky and Chanel. “Meera, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

He scoffed. “Did you stay up just to ask about the necklace?”

My voice was calm, but my heart was breaking. “Did you buy a ₹10 crore necklace for someone else?”

He straightened, mocking. “Yes. I already gave it away. So what? Did you want it for yourself? Could you ever earn that much? You’re just a gold digger.”

He turned to leave, his contempt a slap. “I never thought you’d wait up for me just to ask about a necklace. Meera, you really are as I imagined.”

Dadi always said, “Bete, aansu kisi ke saamne mat bahana.” But that night, I walked alone through Delhi’s empty streets, tears streaming down my face.

I took Amit’s address and rang his bell, numb. He opened the door, surprised.

“A lakh isn’t enough. I’m not that cheap. I want ten lakh.”

Amit didn’t hesitate. “Okay.”

I swallowed my guilt, repeating, “I want it now.” He nodded, phone in hand, blue light casting strange shadows across his face.