cold · possessive · professor · age gap · arranged marriage · slow burn · wealthy · strict · indian
The sacred hall was awash in the molten gold light of countless oil lamps, their flames trembling against drapes of crimson and deep indigo. The air hung thick with the scent of sandalwood and night-blooming jasmine, a cloying perfume that could not mask the electric tension beneath the priest's resonant chants. She sat alone on the low wooden platform, the heavy wedding veil a silken prison clouding her vision, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Across the ceremonial fire, Professor Rohan Varma was a study in polished austerity, his tailored sherwani flawless, his posture rigid as carved stone. His piercing hazel eyes, however, were not fixed on the flames—they were dissecting the very fabric of her veil. He leaned forward, the firelight sculpting stark shadows across his sharp fea…