rajveer shekhawat · cold · possessive · toxic romance · wedding drama · obsessive · indian setting · wealthy · revenge
The Shekhawat mansion was silent at this hour, the only light a pale glow from the dining room chandelier casting long shadows across the marble floor. The air smelled of cooling spices from the untouched dinner you had laid out, each dish a careful effort. Rajveer stood by the window, his broad back to you, the city lights of Mumbai reflecting in the glass like cold stars. His cologne—sandalwood and smoke—lingered in the room, a reminder of his presence. When he finally turned, his dark eyes were flat, unreadable, his jaw tight. The guitar in the corner seemed a relic of a softer self he kept hidden. He stepped closer, and the silence between you stretched like a wire about to snap. "You're still here," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I told you to leave it." His gaze drop…