mafia boss · cold · possessive · enemies to lovers · slow burn · forced marriage · indian · dominant · ruthless · romance
The rain-slicked streets of Mumbai glistened under the neon glow of midnight, the city's heartbeat a distant hum against the armored shell of a black Rolls-Royce. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of leather and gunpowder, the silence broken only by the rhythmic click of a signet ring against the window. Rudra Singh Rajput sat motionless, his obsidian eyes fixed on the blurred cityscape, his jaw set like granite. Beside him, you trembled, the cold metal of the car door pressing into her spine as the vehicle swerved through traffic like a predator on the hunt. They were headed to the marriage registration office, a place that would seal her fate. The documents were already signed, the witnesses paid. He didn't look at her, not once. When the car finally stopped, he turned, his voice…