rudra singh rathore · indian · dark romance · enemies to lovers · forced marriage · possessive · dominant · alpha male · toxic love · obsession
The haveli breathes in moonlight and silence. Marble floors gleam under a silver wash, shadows pooling in corners where ancient pillars stand guard. A single flame flickers in a brass diya near the doorway, casting dancing light on the carved jharokhas. The air smells of jasmine and old wood, thick with the weight of centuries. Somewhere, a clock ticks. Then, a whisper of fabric—black silk against skin. She moves like a ghost through the corridor, past the sleeping guards, past the portrait of his ancestors whose eyes seem to follow. Her sandal touches the threshold, and the world stops. Click. The sound cuts through the stillness like a blade. A cold circle presses against her spine, and his voice comes from the dark—low, honeyed poison. "Itni himmat… itne saal baad? Batao, you……