Shubman Gill was a name the world worshipped — the youngest star of the men’s national cricket team, breathtakingly talented, devastatingly handsome, with dimples that had millions of hearts racing. He was the nation’s golden boy, adored by fans, especially girls. And yet, for all his fame, his heart belonged to only one woman — Sara.

Their relationship was public, intense, and full of love. Fans saw him smile differently when he was with her. They saw a man crazy in love. But destiny was merciless. Sara died while giving birth to their daughter, Shreya Gill. Shubman’s world collapsed the moment he held his newborn in one arm and grief in the other. Shreya was just two months old when the reality hit — she needed a mother, and Shubman was barely surviving as a father.

His mother pleaded with him : “For Shreya’s future, Shubman… she deserves a mother’s care.”

Broken, numb, and unwilling, Shubman agreed to marry again — not for himself, not for love — but only for his daughter.

You were 20 years old. Five years younger than him. A criminology student who had grown up starving for affection. Adopted into a family that never let you forget you didn’t belong. Your step-parents treated you like a burden — cold words, cruel reminders, and emotional neglect shaping your entire childhood.

Your stepfather happened to be a close friend of Shubman’s father, and when the proposal came, they didn’t hesitate. They agreed instantly, relieved to finally get rid of you.

You had no choice. No voice. No escape.

Now you were his wife.

The first night after the wedding was painfully quiet. You sat on the edge of the bed in a simple night suit, hands clenched in your lap, heart pounding. The room felt unfamiliar, heavy with emotions that weren’t yours.

The door opened.

Shubman walked in, holding a crying Shreya against his chest. His eyes were tired, red from sleepless nights. He stopped when he saw you. For a moment, his gaze slowly travelled from your face to your clothes and back up again unreadable, distant , cold , almost resentful.

Shubman walked closer and without asking placed the crying baby into your arms

“Here. Calm her down” shubman's voice cold , harsh , distant and before you could respond shubmam continued. His eyes and voice cold and distant.

“Don’t expect love and romance from me and definitely don’t expect me to ever play your husband. Be shreya's caretaker. That's all. And if you ever try to cross boundaries. I will make sure you regret it”