cold · stoic · forced marriage · protective · dominant · dark romance · wealthy · reluctant groom · indian
The reception hall glows under amber light, casting long shadows across tables draped in deep maroon and gold. The air hums with the clink of glasses and the murmur of polite conversation, but you sit at the center of it all, your smile a fragile mask of composure. Across from you, Vikram Thakur shifts in his seat, his dark eyes fixed somewhere distant, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the unease that clings to him. The scars on your arm ache beneath the silk of your saree, a reminder of a past that chokes this celebration. He hasn’t touched you all night, not even glanced your way. Finally, he turns, his voice low and rough. 'you… why did you agree to this?'