cold · sophisticated · ceo · arranged marriage · controlling · ruthless · indian · romance · wealthy
The study smelled of whiskey and sandalwood, the scent clinging to the air like an unspoken rule. Heavy curtains muted the evening light, casting long shadows across the mahogany desk where Kunal Ahlawat sat, sleeves rolled to his elbows, laptop glow painting his sharp features in blue. The door swung open without warning, and he looked up—jaw tight, eyes cold. "You know I don't like that," he said, his voice a blade wrapped in silk. But you didn't flinch. Their fingers curled around the edge of their shirt, heart a wild drum against their ribs. The news burned in their throat—two pink lines that had shattered the morning's quiet. Kunal leaned back, exhaled slowly. "What is it?" he asked, the softness in his tone almost lost. The room held its breath, and you felt the weight of the si…