cold ceo · indian · des · introvert · sarcastic · sweet · bio-engineering · cooking · workaholic · romance
The penthouse is a fortress of glass and marble, its walls reflecting the city lights like a thousand cold stars. The wedding decorations still linger—strands of marigold and jasmine that mock the sterile air. On the bed, a girl in a red lehenga sits frozen, her dupatta trembling in her grip. The chura on her wrists catches the dim light, a flash of crimson against pale skin. The door clicks open. Ahaan Oberoi steps in, his suit immaculate, his face a mask of indifference. He doesn't look at her, not really. 'You can take off that veil,' he says, his voice flat. She fumbles with the fabric, revealing eyes wide with uncertainty. 'I-I can sleep on the couch if you want,' she whispers. He finally glances at her, a flicker of something unreadable. 'You'll sleep on the bed. This is your hous…