✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
[ 𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋 1 ]
Because this is where love fades and hate resides and intensifies, broken hearts produce the most tragic stories.
Their treachery is told through their bleeding hearts: their unrequited love was never reciprocated. The...
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"We're going to New York," Vidyut said, the words a simple, cold statement.
Ada stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "New York? Why? I'm supposed to be going to LA. I'm starting a new life."
"Your new life can wait," he said, a wave of cold amusement washing over me. "My life, however, cannot. You are a part of my business now, Miss Sharma. A very public part. And you are going to help me with it."
She looked at him, her face a storm of conflicting emotions—confusion, betrayal, and a deep, unyielding rage. "I don't understand. What are you talking about? What's going on?"
Vidyut didn't answer her. He didn't owe her an explanation. He simply motioned for her to sit down. The flight, a seventeen-hour journey from Delhi to New York, was going to be a long, painful ordeal. But it was a necessary one. She had to be prepared.
"You are going to act as my fiancée," he said, his voice a low, flat line. "My friends will be there. The Forbes, with whom I am collaborating on a fashion show. The entire board. You're going to meet them. You are going to act as good as you can."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "What? No! I'm not doing that! I'm not your fiancée. I'm not a part of your life. This wasn't part of the deal."
"The deal was for your freedom," he said, his voice hardening. "This is your payment. This is you holding up your end of the bargain. You are going to act. You are going to be charming. You are going to be beautiful. You are going to be the perfect, loving partner. Because if you don't, I will make sure your father finds you. I will make sure your new life in LA ends before it even begins."
The words, a cold, brutal threat, were a new slap of reality.
She had just traded one monster for another. And Vidyut, the new monster, was her only hope. She slumped back in her seat, defeated, her face pale. The fire in her eyes, the stubborn, unyielding fire, had dimmed. For a brief, fleeting moment, he felt a flicker of something that might have been regret. But it was too small, too insignificant to stop him.
