"Vikram Singh Rathore. Rukhiye."

Earlier that day...

Vikram sincerely regretted the deal he had made with his mother yesterday. He had extended his business trip by two weeks and wasn't in proper contact with his family due to his busy schedule. His mom constantly texted and called him - even though he barely talked to her for a few minutes each time - because she simply liked to check on him and confirm that he was safe and well.

He knew it was always her who made sure that his assistant forced him to eat food on time and get at least a few hours of sleep when extremely busy. Although she maintained her concerned and caring nature for the past month, as soon as she heard that he was returning yesterday, her mood turned sour. It finally registered that she was angry at her son for leaving them, and ignoring them, for a month.

While begging for his mother's forgiveness, he promised to come with her to a friend's house the next day. Little did he know that he was going to see a rishta. He still didn't know, as he drove the car to their house. But he was dreading the visit.

He was so engrossed in his corporate world that he couldn't bear listening to the inane chatter of aunties and uncles. He could think of how all that time could be put to better use, answering emails, checking contracts, etc. And he had no idea why his whole family was coming, too. Why couldn't his mother just meet her friend by herself?

Ranjani was extremely happy that she had finagled her son into seeing a rishta. Yes, she felt a little guilty, but she could easily overlook it. About two months ago, in a moment of nonchalance, Vikram agreed to see rishtas. Mind you, he literally didn't care at that point and was heading out the door to work.

Soon after, he got caught up with the reframing plans for the Hyderabad branch, and then there was the month-long trip to Hyderabad. Since his mother hadn't brought up the topic after that, and it was literally the last thing on his mind, it didn't occur to him that he may be going to meet a possible match. Although Ranjani knew that Vikram agreed to think about getting married, she was sure he had forgotten since they last spoke of it, and didn't want him to change his mind.

She was genuinely naraaz (angry) at him yesterday, so as back-up she had him agree to accompany their family to a 'friend's' house. Now, she would have to handle this situation carefully, since Vikram didn't know. As they stepped out of the car, she linked elbows with both her husband and son, holding them back for a moment, while her daughter couldn't control the giggles escaping her mouth.

"Vikram beta, hum rishta dekhne aaye hain, aur main chahthi hoon ki tum usse milo, baatein karo, aur shaadi karne ke baare mein socho. Theek hain?"

(Vikram beta, we've come to see a match, and I want you to meet her, speak with her, and think about marrying her. Okay?)

After dropping that bomb, she immediately dragged them up the two steps to the door and rang the doorbell. Before Vikram could react, he was being welcomed into his mom's so-called 'friend's' house. Now, his mood soured even more. He was going to reject this girl, no doubt. Yes, it would be a bit harsh on the girl, but if she was good enough that his mom liked her, she would be good enough to get other rishtas, too.

He had lost hope that any girl could be the right one for him. Vikram didn't bother to look anywhere except straight ahead as he was led to sit on a sofa in the living room and the girl's family greeted his. He heard the clatter of cups and plates as chai was being passed out to everyone, but didn't look up from his unseeing gaze at the picture on the wall across from him. Suddenly, a pair of hands holding a cup of chai came into his view, forcing him to look up.

A woman, seated across from him, was holding a cup of chai out to him, gesturing with her eyebrows to take it. She was perfect, too perfect. Her eyes held confidence, curiosity, vulnerability, intelligence, and infinite other emotions that he could spend his entire life discovering. Immediately, Vikram stood and turned to look at his mother. "No."

That left everyone a bit confused, although Ranjani understood what her son was saying. "Beta, aapko chai pasand nahi hain? Koi baat nahi, hum..."

(Beta, you didn't like the chai? No problem, we...)

"Nahi aunty. Main chai ke liye nahi, rishta ke liye naa keh raha tha."

(No aunty. I wasn't saying no for the chai, but for the rishta.)

That shocked everyone into silence and Ranjani glared at her son. No matter how frustrated he might be at her antics, she had not raised him to be this impolite to anyone. The only sound that was heard was the clink of the cup of chai being set on the table as the woman across from him stood up. Ignoring her, Vikram turned to walk out of the house.

"Vikram Singh Rathore, rukhiye."

(Vikram Singh Rathore, stop.)

That made him stop where he was. Kaun hai yeh ladki joh pehli baar mein hi mujhe pure naam se bula rahi hain? Aur woh bhi itne haq se?

(Who is this girl who is calling me by my full name in our very first meeting? As if she has rights on me?)

And why, did he feel like smiling? Vikram spun slowly in his spot and simply stared at her. Expecting the woman to be glaring at him, he was treated to a confident smile as she took a step closer to him. "Aap ne bol diya ki aapke taraf se 'naa' hain. Lekin aapne mujhe jawaab dene ka mauka nahi diya."

(You said that it's a 'no' from your side. But you didn't give me a chance to give my answer.)

Vikram raised his brow. He didn't know if this girl was crazy smart, or just begging for rejection. "Kyun doon mauka?"

(Why should I give you a chance?)

She gave him a slightly disappointed look, as if she expected him to know the answer to his own question. "Kyunki yeh rishta ek taraf se nahi hain, dono taraf se hain. Aur jitna aapka haq banta hain haan ya naa kehne ki, mera bhi hain."

(Because this rishta is not from one side, it's from both sides. Whatever right you have to say yes or no, I also have the same right.)

"Uske liye mera yahan rehna zaroori nahi hain."

(You don't need me here for that.)

"Zaroori hain. Kyunki main ek jhatka mein jawab nahi de sakte. Mujhe aapko jaanna hain, phir soch samajh kar faisla lena hain."

(I do. Because I cannot make a decision in a second. I need to get to know, then think about my decision.)

"Why are you insisting on getting to know me when I already said no?" She smiled patiently at him. "Jitni maine aapke decision ko, aur decision lene ka tareeka ko respect kiya, aapko bhi mera decision aur tareeka ko respect karna padega."

(You will have to respect my decision and my decision-making methods, much as I have respected yours.)

In this back and forth, Vikram didn't realize that she had maneuvered him into the living room again. It was the first time that he missed something happening around him. "Baithiye, aur yeh chai lijiye. Thanda ho raha hain. Aur agar aapko chai ke alawa kuch aur chahiye, toh bataiye."

(Please take a seat, and take this chai. It's getting cold. And if you would like anything other than chai, please let me know.)

As polite and welcoming as her tone was, the threat underneath rang clearly in Vikram's ears. She wouldn't let him go without a fight. The rest of the family stayed pin-drop silent. Vikram was a breath away from turning around and marching out the door, but as irritated as he was, he was equally intrigued. He could afford to stay here and humor this girl for a few more minutes. He acquiesced, taking a seat and picking up his cup of chai, which was, thankfully, still hot and quite tasty.

A few moments passed as Vikram downed his cup of chai, and the woman immediately refilled it. He raised an eyebrow at her, but let it pass. When he continued to stare at her, she smiled knowingly and set her own cup aside. "Aapne naa kyun kaha?"

(Why did you say no?)

It seemed like surprises were written in Vikram's destiny for today. Just as he expected her to say or do something, she would surprise him with a possibility he didn't think of. When she claimed she wanted to get to know him before making her decision, was this what she wanted to know? Well, if she insisted on being rejected again and again, who was he to disappoint her?

He couldn't tell her the truth, the truth that eluded him, so he decided to challenge her. Two birds with one stone- he would reject her and remove that word that kept niggling his mind, 'perfect.' "I avoided marriage for a long time, because I won't compromise on the woman who will enter my life. Your look itself doesn't match with the woman I want. I need a woman who can stand by me in the business world I traverse.

I need her to be my crowning jewel, not a blemish on my image. You dressed up in a saree, a braid, and traditional jewelry, and it's only our first meeting. Either you are truly a traditional woman, or you succumbed to social expectations of how a prospective bride should behave. I don't want a traditional woman, who wouldn't be able to keep up with the fast pace of my world. Nor do I want a woman who couldn't defy society and make her own place in the world."

As he spoke, she slowly sipped her chai, as if listening to him read a story out loud and not her criticisms. Even her posture, with her legs folded up on the seat, reflected her casual attitude, though she was listening very seriously to Vikarm's words and giving him her full attention. Placing her empty cup on the table, she took the cup from his hands and did the same.

"Since you mentioned it, I am interested to know what your world is like. Tell me more about your social world. Describe to me what a typical business party is like for you." Vikram decided to answer, just to find out if she was a gold-digger or attempting to make a jest of him, or worse- neither.

"The parties are held at the most happening, luxurious, and private places. The most obscure and most popular designers are worn to the events. Having your jewelry, your clothes, your food on display at those events could make or break your life. But that's only the first layer. Every word being spoken, every glance exchanged, and thousands of unseen interactions are orchestrating the rise and destruction of the industries and economies of several countries."

"Hmm, tell me, do all the parties have a strictly western dress code?" Vikram gave her a faintly condescending look. "No." "So, if I wore a saree to one of your parties, I wouldn't be breaking the rules. But, even if I was the only one, I would be owning my sense of fashion and making a statement, would I not?

You call me traditional because I chose to wear a saree today, but have you ever looked at the impact of the saree industry on the economy, on the historical preservation, and the environmental benefit to this country? You accuse me of being weak to society's standards because I wear a saree today, but isn't it people like you and me who make society?

The society that I am building encourages the beauty of the saree, encourages a woman to wear what she feels comfortable in, regardless of what is modern or traditional. Now, it is my turn to ask you, what is your definition of modern and traditional? If by traditional, you mean old-fashioned and narrow-minded, then aren't you narrow-minded in your judgment of me, simply based on the way I dress?"

Vikram smirked. She turned the tables, making what started as his game into hers. But he was – dare he admit it to himself? – having fun, and in the mood to play devil's advocate. "What if I want to stay narrow-minded, and I want a woman who will think the same as I?" "Do you really want to stay narrow-minded, or are you just a naïve amateur?"

Vikram raised a brow, glaring at her. Naïve and amateur were never words that were used to describe him. "Since you admitted yourself that you hadn't considered marriage until recently, it's obvious that you're new to this field. You've never considered how to go about finding the perfect partner. But, let me make it easy for you. Think about it like a business deal.

Would you ever sign a contract with another person, another company, simply on face value? Or would you run a thorough investigation, no matter how reliable that person may seem? And how many times have the most reputed companies turned out to be the most two-faced?"

"Why should I compare marriage to a business deal? One is my professional life, and the other is my personal. They are entirely separate." Although, he completely agreed with her. His mother often lamented that he treated social interactions like business contracts. He simply wanted to see more of that mind, listen to her talk.

Leaning forward, she rested her chin in her hand and smiled, as if he made a rookie move on the chessboard. "Your question is moot on two points. If your personal and professional life were truly separate, you wouldn't care how your wife would be able to adapt to your social circle and add to your public image. And secondly, marriage is a deal.

It's the biggest deal of one's life, because you're committing to being with a person for eternity. Through happiness and hardship. It requires constant compromise and negotiation, but you'll always celebrate each other's successes because it's a partnership for life. If you still can't understand that marriage is the most important deal in one's life, especially because emotions are involved, then you are not the businessman you claim to be. Much less the man I expected you to be."

Vikram simply sat staring at her, with his fingers steepled on his lips. She couldn't tell if he was genuinely considering her words, or only trying to unnerve her. The slight tension around his mouth indicated that he was holding back something – words or emotion, she didn't know. Either way, she was feeling unnerved but hid it well. "I could say the same of you. You are certainly not the woman I had expected you to be."

Uncertain how to respond to that, she stood and smiled at him, prompting him to stand up. It was there for barely a second, but she could swear she saw the warm glow of approval in his eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked a fraction before returning to its stern state. "Well, thank you for staying back upon my request. I've taken up enough of your time."

She linked her elbow with his and guided, or rather pushed, him towards the front door. His family filed out behind him, exchanging glances with her parents, but remaining silent. At the door, it was Vikram who turned and clasped her hand as she was about to let go. "Tum ne kaha ki tumhe faisla lene ke liye mera waqt chahiye. Ab waqt diya, toh faisla bhi bata do."

(You said you needed my time to make a decision. I gave you my time, so tell me your decision.)

She gave him that mischievous smile that, irritatingly, enchanted him. "Meri taraf se haan hain. Aap bhi soch lijiye, aur agar aapka faisla badla, phir bata dijiye." Vikram let go and strode to the car, taking a seat and driving away without a backward glance.

(It'sa yes from me. You should think about it too, and if you change your mind, letus know.)

A/N: This is a longer chapter guys, but I couldn't find the right place to cut it, so here you go! Please like, comment, and let me know what you think!