7

Anvika's POV

The weight of Rivansh's words hung heavily between us, suffocating the space. The contract, still sitting on the table between us like a silent ultimatum, gleamed in the dim light of the café. The ring beside it seemed to burn with a strange intensity, as if it were demanding an answer I wasn't ready to give.

"If you insist on marrying me," I began, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside, "then maybe you should work for it. Give me a year. Let me finish my MS degree, and in that time, maybe my views on you-and love-will change. But I need that year."

Rivansh's expression was unreadable, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes-something dark, something almost... disappointed. He leaned forward, his voice as cold and steady as ever. "A year?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing. "Anvika, do you think I have that luxury? Do you think I have time to wait while you 'decide' who I am? I've already waited too long."

His words cut through the air, the finality in his tone making my chest tighten. I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks, but I wouldn't back down. Not now. "I'm not asking for forever, Rivansh. Just one year. If you're so sure about us, a year shouldn't matter. I need time. I need to understand. Not just about you, but about me."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but I could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the tension in his posture telling me everything I needed to know. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but laced with something dangerous. "Time is a luxury I can't afford, Anvika. I've already spent too much of it waiting for you. But..." His eyes softened just a fraction, and I almost thought I saw something human behind the cold mask. "If you really need time, I'll give you a week. Seven days. Not a year."

My heart stuttered in my chest. A week? Seven days to decide the rest of my life? The absurdity of it made me laugh bitterly. "A week?" I repeated, my voice dripping with disbelief. "How am I supposed to know anything about you in just seven days? How can I make such a big decision-this decision-about someone I don't even trust?"

Rivansh's lips twitched into the faintest of smirks, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You'll have plenty of time to get to know me after marriage."

My blood ran cold. After marriage. The words hung in the air like a challenge, something I didn't know how to answer. "After marriage?" I echoed, my voice rising with a mixture of disbelief and anger. "You can't be serious. That's not how this works. You don't just throw a ring at someone and expect them to figure it out later. Marriage isn't a gamble, Rivansh."

Rivansh's face hardened again, the mask falling back into place as he leaned in slightly, his voice low, calm, and utterly unyielding. "Maybe that's where you're wrong," he said, his tone colder now. "People show who they are in moments, Anvika. In actions, not months of waiting. Seven days will be enough time for you to see who I really am."

I felt the anger rise in my chest, my pulse pounding in my ears. I couldn't let him manipulate me like this. "And you think I'll trust you after everything?" I shot back, my voice sharp. "How can I trust a man who kidnapped me, who dragged me into his life like I was some prize to be claimed, who just moments ago didn't even flinch before shooting an innocent person?"

For a moment, Rivansh's eyes flickered, just the briefest hint of something-regret?-passing through them before it disappeared, hidden behind the usual cold facade. "Everyone is not the same, Anvika," he said quietly, his voice softer, almost coaxing. "I might have made mistakes, but my intentions were never what you think. I'm not the man you think I am."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. His intentions were never what I think? How could he say that after everything? After dragging me away from my life, my safety, my freedom? "You expect me to believe that?" I said, my voice thick with mockery. "After everything? After what you did? You expect me to trust you just because you say you want me?"

He didn't flinch. Instead, his lips curled into something that resembled a smile-cold, distant, but still there. "Mi amor," he said, the words slipping from his lips like a secret he was sharing only with me. "I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to see me for who I am now, not who I was."

The words hit me like a slap. Mi amor? My love? How could he possibly think calling me that would make everything okay? How could he possibly think that after all he'd done, I would just melt under his words?

I scoffed, my voice trembling with frustration. "Mi amor? How dare you? How could you call me that after everything? After kidnapping me? You think a few sweet words are going to change everything?"

Rivansh didn't respond right away. Instead, he seemed to study me for a moment, his gaze intense, cold, as if he was trying to see through me. And then, with an almost imperceptible sigh, he stood up, sliding the contract and ring back into his jacket pocket, his movements smooth and deliberate.

"You'll have seven days, Anvika," he said, his voice hard again, as if this was the end of the conversation. "Seven days to decide if I'm worth your time. After that, the choice won't be yours anymore."

I felt my heart race, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and anger. He was giving me a week. Seven days. I could feel the pressure building, the weight of his words sinking in. Seven days-how was I supposed to make that kind of decision in such a short amount of time?

Before I could even process the chaos in my head, Rivansh was standing, towering over me, as if he had already made up his mind. "I'll drop you home," he said, his voice cold once again, his eyes unreadable.

I stood up, my chest tight with emotions I couldn't sort through. Home. The word made me think of everything that had happened, of how I'd ended up here. "I'd be obliged if you could drop me at the very place you kidnapped me from," I said, my voice sharp, biting.

Rivansh's eyes narrowed for a moment, but he didn't argue. He simply nodded, his face impassive as he led the way out of the café.

We walked in silence, the weight of his presence pressing down on me, every step echoing with the reminder of what had brought me here. I couldn't understand him. I couldn't understand why he thought seven days would be enough to fix everything, to fix us.

But as we stepped into his car, the cold air rushing past us, I realized something: I was running out of time, and Rivansh wasn't going to let me walk away. Not yet.