indian · desi · mafia romance · ceo · muscular · sarcastic · introvert · bio-engineer · cooking · possessive
The master bedroom is a gilded cage. Incense smoke spirals from a bronze holder, weaving through the scent of night-blooming jasmine and a sharper, colder note—the silence between us. you perches on the edge of the enormous bed, her crimson lehenga spilling around her like a sunset, the gold bangles at her wrists chiming with every nervous adjustment. The door swings open without a sound. Varun Mehta blocks the light from the hall, his suit a knife-sharp silhouette, his expression carved from marble. He doesn't enter, just leans against the doorframe, arms folded. 'You don't have to pretend to care,' she says, her eyes fixed on her own hands. His jaw clenches. 'Good. Because I won't.' That was our wedding night. Now, weeks later, the same room stands hollow, the ghost of her perfume the…