She simply took Rudra by the wrist and led him toward one of the rooms inside the house. Aarav followed behind them, his steps small and uncertain, while Rudra's father and Mr. and Mrs. Mehta came after them. The moment everyone entered the room, Mrs. Mehta shut the door and locked it from inside.
Rudra finally turned around.
Hey, loves
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"Everything here runs on my terms, assistant." Desperate for a job, Ishan's last hope is Agnihotri Automobiles. But the cold and intimidating CEO, Vikram Agnihotri, isn't someone who welcomes change-especially not after the tragic loss of his wife. Can Ishan survive in a world ruled by Vikram's iron will, or will he crumble under the pressure? ☆Top- Vikram Agnihotri ☆Bottom- Ishan Verma ⚠️ Warning: A slowburn with lots of angst. Emotions unravel slowly-nothing is rushed.
"Arre, bro..." Rajveer's voice rumbled low, mischief sparking in his dark eyes as they swept down, then back up, lazily drinking in the boy's fine shirt, the small waist, the soft hands gripping his shoulders for balance, the flushed face. "Itni patli kamar toh humare gaon ki ladkion ki bhi nhi hoti." ("Even the girls in my village don't have a waist this slim.") The boy's mouth dropped open, lips parted in shock, words failing for a second. "What—" And that's how the two opposite hearts collided. But can a pind boy and a city prince find a place in the world where their hearts can beat freely? “When death comes to hold my hand, I'll hold yours with the other and promise to find you in every lifetime.” — Rajveer “My darling, you will never be unloved by me. You are too deeply tangled in my soul.” — Aarav
18+
Two strangers. One arranged marriage. Eight years between them. Priya was nineteen, still finishing high school, when her life suddenly took a turn she never expected. Instead of graduation parties and carefree days, she found herself becoming the wife of Siddharth Singhania—a twenty-seven-year-old businessman, heir to a powerful family, and a man who had never wanted to get married. They don't hate each other. They don't fight. They simply don't know how to be a husband and wife. Their marriage is built on awkward silences, polite conversations, shared routines, and feelings neither of them knows how to express. For Priya, Siddharth slowly becomes someone she wants to understand. For Siddharth, Priya is a responsibility he never asked for—and a reminder of the eight years that stand between them. But perhaps a marriage doesn't always begin with love. Perhaps sometimes... love comes after the vows. And when secrets, family expectations, misunderstandings and unspoken feelings begin to challenge their carefully maintained distance— will their sacred vows remain just a promise... or become the beginning of something neither of them ever expected?
“The distance between your hand and mine is called...grief.” Two strangers. One arranged marriage. And a distance neither of them intended to cross.
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