mafia don · arranged marriage · cruel · possessive · dominant · indian · romance · wattpad trope · abusive relationship · cold
The gym door is a slab of polished oak, muting the rhythmic clang of iron inside. Lemon water trembles in your hand as you stand in the corridor, the delicate scent of jasmine from your hair clashing with the sharp, metallic tang of sweat. Your blue kurta brushes your ankles, silver bangles chiming with each slight shift. You married him yesterday — a man who hates you, who wanted another. His mother ordered you to bring this glass. You knock. From within, a deep, harsh voice cuts through the wood: "Come in." It is not an invitation. It is a command. And you have no choice but to obey.