​The Billionaire's Hidden Bride

​The rain was pouring down heavily over the crowded streets of the city. Aatika held her faded umbrella tightly, trying to protect her interview documents from getting soaked. Her hands were shivering, not just from the cold wind, but from the extreme pressure resting on her shoulders. Her mother was ill, the hospital bills were piling up, and today was her absolute last chance to secure a stable job.

​She looked up at the towering glass building in front of her—Malik Group of Industries. It was the largest conglomerate in the country, a place where hundreds of applicants dreamed of working, but only the elite survived.

​"Ya Allah, bas aaj madad kar dena," Aatika whispered under her breath, taking a deep breath before stepping inside the grand marble lobby.

​Inside, the atmosphere was completely different. Centralized air conditioning, polished floors reflecting the chandeliers, and people in expensive business suits walking swiftly with serious expressions. Aatika adjusted her simple lawn dupatta and walked toward the reception desk.

​"Excuse me, I am here for the Junior Executive interview," Aatika said softly.

​The receptionist, a well-groomed woman wearing a sharp blazer, looked up and glanced at Aatika's modest outfit with a slight hint of judgment. "Name?"

​"Aatika... Aatika Shah."

​"Take the elevator to the 14th floor. Room 1402. Don't be late, Mr. Malik doesn't tolerate even a single second of delay," the receptionist said coldly without smiling.

​Aatika nodded gratefully and hurried toward the glass elevators. But just as she reached the doors, a loud commotion broke out near the private VIP entrance.

​A fleet of black SUVs had pulled up outside. Security guards in black suits quickly formed a human barrier, ushering in a tall, sharp-looking man in a tailored charcoal suit.

​It was Rayyan Malik.

​The CEO of Malik Industries. At just twenty-eight, he was ruthless, feared in the corporate realm, and impossibly wealthy. His dark eyes scanned the lobby like a predator, sending a wave of silence across the entire room. Everyone stood at attention, barely daring to breathe.

​Aatika froze for a second, mesmerized by his commanding presence. But as he walked past her, his sharp gaze briefly locked onto hers. His eyes were cold, distant, and utterly devoid of emotion.

​Aatika quickly looked down, her heart racing uncontrollably. He is terrifying, she thought.

​Rayyan stepped into his private elevator without saying a word, leaving behind a heavy silence. Aatika wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and took the general elevator upstairs.

​When she reached the 14th floor, the hallway was lined with dozens of candidates. All of them looked highly experienced, holding fancy degrees from foreign universities. Aatika felt a knot forming in her stomach. How could a simple girl with a local degree compete against them?

​Hours passed. One candidate after another went into the glass conference room and came out looking utterly defeated.

​"Mr. Malik is in a terrible mood today," one girl sobbed as she walked out. "He rejected my resume in five seconds!"

​Finally, the assistant called out, "Aatika Shah!"

​Aatika stood up, adjusted her files, and took a deep breath. She knocked gently on the door and walked inside.

​Sitting at the end of the long mahogany conference table was Rayyan Malik himself. He was looking through a tablet, not even bothering to look up as she entered.

​"Sit," his deep, authoritative voice echoed in the room.

​Aatika sat down quietly, placing her folder on the table.

​Rayyan finally looked up. His sharp hazel eyes fixed on her face, inspecting her with intense scrutiny. "Aatika Shah. Degree in Business Finance. No prior corporate experience. Why should I hire you over candidates with foreign master's degrees?"

​His tone was sharp, straight to the point, with zero warmth.

​Aatika swallowed hard, but she refused to let her voice tremble. She knew she couldn't afford to fail today.

​"Because, sir," Aatika began, her voice steady, "degrees show what someone has studied, but my work ethic will show what I can achieve. I may not have foreign exposure, but I have the dedication to work harder than anyone else in this room. I don't give up easily."

​Rayyan raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her directness. Usually, people stuttered or tried to flatter him in interviews. But this girl... her eyes showed desperation mixed with absolute determination.

​He closed her file slowly. "Dedication doesn't pay the company's bills, Miss Shah. Results do."

​"Give me three weeks, sir," Aatika challenged gently. "If my work doesn't meet your standards, you can fire me without paying a single penny."

​Silence filled the room. Rayyan leaned back in his leather chair, tapping his fingers on the table. He was evaluating her, calculating every risk.

​"Three weeks," Rayyan said coldly. "Starting tomorrow at 7:00 AM sharp. If you are even one minute late, don't bother coming in."

​Aatika’s heart leaped with joy, though she kept her face professional. "Thank you, Mr. Malik. I won't disappoint you."

​She stood up, took her folder, and left the room.

​As the door closed behind her, Rayyan looked at her resume again. Little did Aatika know, her life was about to take a turn she could never have imagined. Rayyan was facing a massive crisis in his personal life—a family condition that required him to get married within a month to retain his position as CEO.

​And as Rayyan stared at Aatika's file, a dark, calculating thought crossed his mind.