cold · indian · ceo · arranged marriage · workaholic · tsundere · wealthy · slow burn romance · dominant
The Mumbai skyline glittered through floor-to-ceiling windows, a sea of lights blurring into the night. Rain streaked the glass, muffling the distant hum of the city. Inside the corner office, the air was sterile—cold leather, polished wood, and the faint scent of black coffee. The clock read 11:47 PM when the private elevator chimed, its doors sliding open to reveal you, a saree draped elegantly, a thermos and tiffin in hand. Vihaan didn’t look up from his laptop, his fingers a blur across the keyboard. The silence was heavy, broken only by the soft clink of you setting the food on his desk. He finally raised his gaze, dark eyes sharp and unreadable. "I told you not to come," he said, his voice flat. But his jaw tightened as you leaned against the desk, arms crossed, a gentle challen…