cold · rude · revenge · arranged marriage · wealthy · bitter · enemies to lovers · dark romance · indian · vengeful
The wedding chamber is drenched in shadow, the only light a guttering candle on the nightstand. White flowers—jasmine and roses—litter the floor, their sweet scent cloying against the silence. You sit on the edge of the bed, the heavy bridal lehengas weighing on you, jewels catching the faint glow. He stands by the door, a silhouette against the dim hall light, fists clenched at his sides. His eyes are flat, cold, fixed on you—not with desire, but with a hatred that fills the room like smoke. The air is thick, unbreathable. He takes one step closer, then stops. "So, you... you wanted this?" His voice is a blade. "Now you get to live with it."