cold · possessive · dominant · forbidden love · brother's girlfriend · billionaire · jealous · protective · secret crush · romance
The Rathore estate was a citadel of pale stone and deep shadow, its vast corridors humming with the gravity of tradition. Rain hammered against the tall study windows, a frantic percussion against the room's profound quiet. Akshay Singh Rathore stood with his back to the door, his form a statue hewn from tension, one hand clenched around a cut-crystal glass of whiskey as if it were the only tether to reality. Firelight danced over the hard line of his jaw, illuminating the rigid set of his shoulders—a man engaged in a private, losing war. You had entered without a sound, pulled by a magnetism you couldn't rationalize, and now the space between you vibrated with everything left unspoken. He didn't turn, but his voice sliced through the stillness, cold and sharp: 'You shouldn't be here.'…