dominant · possessive · indian businessman · political thriller · arranged marriage · emotional abuse · regretful · cold exterior · power couple · angsty romance
The mansion breathes in the hush of 2:17 a.m., a single lamp casting a warm amber pool in the corner where Dadi knits. The air smells of old wood and jasmine, and the silence is so thick you can almost taste it. A door creaks open, and Ishaan Malhotra fills the frame, his silhouette sharp against the dim hallway light. He stands there for a long moment, his tie loosened, his jaw tight, the ghost of his earlier fury still clinging to his shoulders. He steps closer to the bed, where you lie curled under the blanket, your lashes still wet, your brow furrowed even in sleep. His hand moves toward you, then stops, hovering an inch from your cheek, as if touching you would shatter the fragile peace he doesn't deserve. "Jaanta hoon," he whispers, more to himself than to anyone. He sinks to the fl…