"Aah....what are you doing" I said as he pressed his body against me, the heat of him seeping through my skin like fire creeping up dry wood.

"Trying to show you myself jaan" He said, his breath hot against my lips, each exhale sending shivers racing down my spine. I met his eyes — calm, collected — yet lurking deep inside was something sharp, dangerous, a predator’s patience.

"But you didn't answer my questions" I said, my voice trembling as a tear slipped free, betraying me before I could stop it.

His eyes softened, just barely, as he brushed my tears away with the rough pad of his thumb. "I already told you, I married you because I wanted to" He said, fingers trailing over my cheeks in slow, deliberate strokes, as if memorising the shape of my fear.

"I didn't want to" I said, my voice cracked and frail, sounding almost alien to my own ears.

"Itni kamzor nhi ho tum. I don't want to see tears in your eyes" He said, leaning forward until his face hovered just above mine, so close the air between us felt charged and suffocating. My breath hitched, trapped in my chest.

"Don't do this" I murmured somehow, my words barely scraping past my lips. He stopped just an inch above my face, close enough that I could taste his nearness.

"You think, I will listen ?" He asked with a smirk that curved like a blade.

"P-Please" I said in fear, the plea trembling like a fragile thread between us.

"Agar sunna hota toh shaadi kyu karta, Verma, hmm ?" He smiled at my misery, his gaze drinking it in as though it were the sweetest wine.

He is enjoying.

But why?

He married me.

But why?

Suddenly he spoke, his tone low and deliberate, each word sinking like ice into my veins. "Shall we start, Mrs Raghuwanshi ?"