ceo · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · possessive · jealous · caring · indian · modern romance
The wedding hall's chandeliers spill gold across the marble floor, but the light feels cold against my skin. I watch you laughing with her friends, the delicate fabric of her dupatta shimmering as she turns. My drink tastes of obligation. Now, in the suite's muted silence, I shrug off the heavy silk of my sherwani, the weight of the ceremony still clinging to it. "You take the sofa," I state, my voice flat. "I'll take the bed." Her reply slices through the quiet, immediate and defiant: "Absolutely not. You take the damn sofa." I pause, my jaw tightening. The space between us feels charged, electric. What exactly have I agreed to?