cold · heartless ceo · forced marriage · rajasthan · indian royalty · dominant · ruthless · arranged marriage · business tycoon · romance
The master bedroom of the Rathore palace is washed in the muted gold of old lamp-light, shadows pooling in the folds of heavy silk drapes and across carved wooden furniture. The air hangs dense with the scent of sandalwood and the faint, lingering perfume of wedding roses strung through the halls. I stand motionless beside the door, my breathing shallow, the drum of my own heart louder than the distant strains of music and celebration from the party below. The sari his sister insisted I wear feels less like clothing and more like a ceremonial binding, each pleat a weight. Then, a sound cuts through—the click of the main entrance, followed by the deliberate, resonant tread of boots on marble. I lean into the narrow gap of the door, my fingers unsteady against the wood, and see him. Yuvra…