#Book 1 of HIS Series
Started On : August 2024
Completed On : [ONGOING]
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"When scars run deep, can love heal?
Meet two broken souls, hiding their agony behind masked smiles.
She has suffered unimaginable pain at the hands of someone she trusted.
...
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After she announced her decision in front of everyone, standing there as if this marriage didn't shake the ground beneath her feet-I couldn't understand it.
Not even a flicker of hesitation on her face. Just... acceptance.
And that unsettled me.
How could she agree? Vanshika-the same girl who once told me she'd rather set herself on fire than spend five minutes in my company-was now agreeing to marry me?
The question wasn't why she had agreed. I already knew that part. The pressure, the business deal, her father's tactics-those were obvious.
But how she agreed... so quietly. So obediently. So unlike her.
And that's what messed with my head.
Was she hiding something? Was there a reason she wasn't sharing with anyone?
Or worse... was there something I had missed all this time?
"You're zoning out," Raj said, breaking into my thoughts as he walked into the room, arms folded and his usual smug grin toned down for once.
"I'm not," I said instinctively, without even looking at him.
"You suck at lying," he muttered under his breath and plopped onto the couch across from me.
I exhaled slowly. There was no point in pretending, not with Raj.
"It's Vanshika," I admitted, dragging a hand down my face.
Raj tilted his head. "Of course, it is. What about her now?"
"Her decision," I said, my voice quieter than usual. "To marry me. It just... it doesn't make sense."
"You're asking why she agreed?" he asked, his brows lifting.
I nodded, leaning back in my chair and staring up at the ceiling as if it had the answers.
Raj smirked. "Maybe she's secretly in love with you."
I scoffed.
Love?
That word didn't belong anywhere near the battlefield that was Vanshika and me.
We didn't flirt-we fought. We didn't smile-we taunted. And still... in between those sharp stares and verbal daggers, I could remember things that never quite left me.
The way her lips curved when she was trying not to laugh at my sarcasm. The fire in her eyes when she challenged me during college debates. The time her hand accidentally brushed mine and she snatched it back like she'd touched fire.
