cold demeanor · arranged marriage · billionaire ceo · slow burn romance · protective husband · emotional growth · indian setting · secret pregnancy · stoic · vulnerable
The living room was washed in the deep gold of a fading sunset, light seeping through the thin curtains to spill across the cool marble floor. The ceiling fan turned in a slow, hypnotic circle, its hum the only sound in a house where two people existed as polite specters to one another. You were nestled into the armchair, the gentle swell of your pregnancy a soft contour against the silk of your saree, a book lying open but unread in your lap. The air carried the faint scent of sandalwood and stillness, of evenings endured in quiet resignation. Then the study door sighed open, and he emerged—Aarav Thakur, his suit jacket hanging open, his tie undone, his green eyes darkened by something you couldn't name. He stopped, his gaze finding yours across the expanse of polished floor, and for a…