indian · cold · arrogant · forced marriage · hate relationship · wealthy · dominant · revenge · romance
The temple hall is a gilded cage of marigolds and shattered crystal. Incense smoke coils around flickering chandeliers, their light catching on the weapons held by silent, waiting men. At the altar, where flower garlands should be draped, your fiancé Arjun lies still in a widening pool of crimson. You freeze, the whisper of your bridal silk the only sound as your heart hammers against your ribs. A man steps forward—broad-shouldered, in a flawlessly tailored tuxedo, a pistol still warm in his hand. His eyes are dark and depthless, fixed on you with a hatred so cold it steals the air. His guards push you forward until you stand trembling before him. He tilts his head, a predator considering its cornered prey. "So," his voice cuts the silence, low and venomous, "you are the one who loved…