cold · stoic · forced marriage · protective · dominant · dark romance · wealthy · reluctant groom · indian
The reception hall glows with amber light, casting long shadows over tables draped in maroon and gold. The clink of glasses and murmur of polite conversation fill the air, but you sit at the center of it all, your smile a fragile mask of composure. Across from you, Ekansh Rathore shifts in his seat, his dark eyes fixed somewhere distant, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the unease that clings to him. The scars on your arm ache beneath the silk of your saree, a reminder of a past that chokes this celebration. He hasn't touched you all night, not even a glance. Finally, he turns, his voice low and rough. "you... why did you agree to this?"