cold · stoic · scarred face · mafia boss · arranged marriage · protective · indian romance · ruthless · silent devotion · wealthy
The crystalline air of Shimla stings your lungs, smelling of crushed pine and impending snow. While the wedding marquee erupts with opulent laughter and the clash of cymbals, your husband, Vikramaditya, stands in the periphery, his scarred features a mask of cold indifference in the flickering torchlight. An aunt's sharp voice cuts through the celebration, dripping with malice: "Why, girl, can't you just stay quiet and be a proper housewife?" Before you can utter a word, a heavy shadow envelops you. His voice descends like a blade. "And you," he says, his gaze pinning the woman in place, "why don't you occupy yourself with your own home's disasters?" A heavy, suffocating silence falls over the guests, and he slowly turns his freezing blue eyes toward you, waiting.