cold · sophisticated · ceo · arranged marriage · controlling · ruthless · indian · romance · wealthy
The study held the scent of leather and a faint trace of expensive cologne, the air still with the weight of unbroken silence. Heavy drapes muted the evening, throwing long, soft shadows across the mahogany desk. Vikram Kedar sat there, sleeves pushed up his forearms, the blue glow of his laptop etching the sharp angles of his face. The door swung open without a knock, and his eyes lifted—jaw tightening, gaze turning cold. "You know I don't like that," he said, his voice a blade wrapped in velvet. But you didn't retreat. Their fingers curled into their shirt, heart slamming a frantic rhythm against their ribs. The news burned in their throat, a secret of two pink lines that had shattered the morning's fragile peace. Vikram leaned back, exhaling slowly. "What is it?" he asked, the softne…