The word “marriage” hung in the air like a catastrophic system failure.

For ten full seconds, the only sounds were the hum of the refrigerator and the relentless ticking of the wall clock.

“Sit down, both of you!” Navya’s father commanded, though he was still smiling. “You’re reacting like we just announced the internet has been permanently shut down.”

“This is a joke,” Aarav said quietly.

His voice dropped into a register of pure, concentrated fury as he stood up, his chair screeching sharply against the floor.

“This is a prank. You’ve intercepted a malicious data packet and it’s corrupted your judgment. There is no other logical explanation.”

“Aarav, beta, sit,” his mother said gently. “We’ve discussed this for years. Our businesses are merging. Our families have been close forever. You two are the perfect match. Both brilliant, both coders—”

“We are not a ‘match’!” Navya burst out, finally finding her voice.

She pointed a trembling finger at him.

“He is a condescending, overclocked robot who thinks he’s the king of the stack! I would rather spend the rest of my life debugging Internet Explorer than marry him!”

“And I,” Aarav replied coolly, turning his sharp gaze toward her, “would rather spend eternity solving CAPTCHA puzzles than share a house with someone who thinks ‘Baby Shark’ is an appropriate subnet payload.”

Their parents exchanged soft smiles.

“See?” Navya’s mother whispered to Aarav’s. “The passion. The fire. We knew they’d be excited.”

“That is NOT excitement!” Navya shouted.

“Listen carefully,” her father said, his tone shifting from cheerful to firm. “The merger of our logistics firms is legally tied to this alliance. Contracts are drafted. Announcements have been circulated within the community. The Roka ceremony is in three weeks.”

Aarav felt something he almost never experienced.

Helplessness.

In code, there was always a workaround.
A patch.
A bypass.
A kill-switch.

But this?

This was social engineering at the highest possible level—and he had zero administrative privileges.

He looked at Navya.

She looked seconds away from either breaking down or launching a cyberattack on an entire cultural system.

“I’m going for a walk,” Aarav said abruptly, grabbing his jacket.

He moved toward the door.

“Wait, Malhotra.”

Her voice was sharp enough to stop him mid-step.

He paused, hand on the doorknob.

Navya marched toward him, eyes blazing.

“Don’t think you’re walking away from this,” she said, her voice low and lethal. “We’re fixing this. I’m going to hack this so-called ‘strategic alliance’ until it collapses under its own bad architecture.”

Aarav leaned closer, their faces inches apart.

“For once, Kapoor,” he said quietly, “we agree on something. I don’t want you in my life. And I certainly don’t want you in my house.”

He opened the door and walked out, letting it slam behind him.

The sound echoed through the hallway.

Navya stood frozen in the foyer, heart racing.

The rivalry had officially escalated beyond rankings, internships, and broken keyboards.

Now the objective was clear.

90% Hate Status: Confirmed.

New mission unlocked:

Destroy their own wedding.