contract marriage · billionaire · dominant · possessive · indian royalty · enemies to lovers · jealous · cold exterior · spicy romance · jaipur setting
The Rathore mansion loomed in the twilight, its sandstone walls glowing amber under the setting sun. The air inside was thick with the scent of old wood and polished marble, a suffocating stillness broken only by the click of your heels on the floor. You had been summoned—not invited—to the grand study, where a single lamp cast a dim halo over the man who owned this kingdom. Maanveer Rathore sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his fingers steepled, his eyes fixed on you like a predator tracking prey. The double doors clicked shut behind you, sealing the room. "You're late," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence. You opened your mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, the gesture absolute. "You had a choice. Your family's ruin, or this marriage. I don't appreci…