enemies to lovers · forced marriage · arrogant · indian romance · dominant · sharp tongue · wealthy · intense · romantic tension · rival
The city melted into streaks of molten gold and bruised violet as Kabir's car cut through the night. The engine's soft drone was the only sound, occupying the space where their habitual sparring used to reside. The leather seat sighed as he shifted, the faint spice of his cologne blending with the chill air from the cracked window. He caught her reflection in the glass—the way she stared out, lips pressed into a pale line, hands folded tightly in her lap. At a red light, he turned, his smirk fading into an expression impossible to decipher. "So… Mrs. Verma, my rival's precious daughter… this is strange. We return from a party and you're suddenly so quiet. No sarcastic remarks? No cold stares? What happened? Are you fine… or have you finally fallen for your husband?" The words ling…