The grand suite drips with opulence—roses and silks adorning every inch, as if the room itself is trying to mask the coldness between them. But none of its beauty touches Saanvi. She stands before the mirror, her reflection a stranger wrapped in heavy bridal jewelry, each piece weighing her down like shackles. The suffocating air thickens with anger, and resentment pulses beneath her skin.
Yashvardhan, her husband now in name only, strides into the room. That smirk—the one she despises—plays on his lips as his eyes rove over her bridal red. He pauses, soaking in the sight of her, the possessive gleam in his gaze igniting her fury even further.
"You look breathtaking," he murmurs, voice low and possessive.
Saanvi doesn't flinch. Her eyes lock with his in the mirror, defiance burning in her gaze. "You should know by now, Yash, I'm not someone you can cage with pretty words or a piece of jewelry."
He raises an eyebrow, amused. "Still so defiant, even tonight? I expected this, of course. But you'll learn."
Without a word, Saanvi turns away from the mirror, her silk lehenga brushing the cold marble as she walks toward the wardrobe. Her heart pounds, but her hands remain steady as she pulls out his designer suit—the one he wore to the wedding. The symbol of this sham of a marriage, of his relentless power over her.
She stands near the bed, her voice cutting through the tension like steel. "This changes nothing between us. I still hate everything you represent, and I will never give myself to you—not in love, not in loyalty."
Yashvardhan's smirk only deepens, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. He strides toward the couch and sits, his movements languid, as if this were nothing but a game to him. Leaning back, he lets his gaze travel over her, his voice dropping to a velvety, low tone.
"I never expected you to give me your heart, Vixen," he drawls. "But don't forget—you're the one who wore the wedding garland, who signed the papers. So, no matter how much you fight it..."
He leans forward, his eyes locking onto hers with a dark intensity that sends a shiver down her spine.
"You. Belong. To. Me."
[Yash is HOTT🤌🏻❤️🔥]
Saanvi's heart races, but she doesn't flinch. Without a word, she crosses the room, her silk lehenga brushing the cold marble floor, each step deliberate, defiant. Her hand trembles only slightly as she pulls his wedding suit from the wardrobe—the one he wore just hours earlier. The one that stood as a symbol of this twisted game he had won tonight.
She grabs the lighter from the dresser and flicks it open with a sharp click. The tiny flame flickers in her hand, her gaze unblinking as she lowers it to the fabric.
The suit catches fire almost instantly, the flames devouring the expensive material, filling the room with the acrid scent of burning cloth. She throws it onto the floor, watching it turn to ash.
Yashvardhan's smirk falters, his eyes narrowing as the fire grows. He stands, his calm demeanor cracking as he takes a step toward her.
"You think this will break me?" he murmurs, his voice cold and sharp. "You think burning a suit changes anything between us?"
Saanvi doesn't respond. Instead, she moves toward the wardrobe again, her fingers curling around the next piece of clothing—another one of his prized designer suits. The flame in her lighter flares to life once more, and with the same defiance, she sets the fabric alight.
[MOMMY BEHAVIOUR🙇🏻❤️🔥🤌🏻]
Yashvardhan watches in stunned silence as she pulls out more clothes—shirts, jackets, ties—and throws them into the growing pile of burning fabric. The flames crackle, filling the suite with the sharp, bitter scent of destruction.
He steps forward, his voice taut with anger now. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Saanvi?"
Her voice is cold, unyielding. "I'm burning everything. Every single thing that ties me to you. You'll never own me."
The fire blazes higher as she continues, pulling piece after piece from the wardrobe, setting it all ablaze. The soft glow of the flames reflects in her eyes, her heart pounding with a fierce, rebellious rhythm.
Yashvardhan's calm facade crumbles as he watches his possessions burn, the flames licking at the symbols of his power, his control. His jaw tightens, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"You can burn every piece of clothing I own, Saanvi," he snarls, stepping closer, his eyes locked onto hers, his voice dripping with fury and something darker—something more dangerous. "But you'll never escape me. You're bound to me now, in ways you can't even imagine."
[He is fucking obsessed and red flag but I'm colorblind🙂↔️🙂↔️]
Saanvi meets his gaze, her voice hard as steel. "I would rather burn everything we have than let you own a single part of me."
For the first time that night, Yashvardhan's smirk is gone. There's no amusement left in his eyes, just raw, burning fury—and something else, something deeper and darker, born from obsession. From the fear of losing what he believes is his.
He moves closer, his presence suffocating, the air between them crackling with tension. His lips curl into a dangerous, slow smile as he leans in, his breath ghosting over her skin.
"Burn it all, Vixen," he whispers, his voice soft but laced with menace. "But know this—no matter how many flames you light, you'll never escape me."
[This is so freaking hott bhai😭🤌🏻 This couple will be the death of me]
Finally aap logo ka intezaar khatam hua aur prologue aagya🙂↔️🙂↔️
Today I'm in Josh that's why you all are getting multiple updates😌
Btw, how is the PROLOGUE?? Did you like it??
Bhai they are freaking Fire x fire❤️🔥🙇🏻
Saanvi is Fire😭✋🏻 I'm obsessed with her😌
VOTE: 100 Comments: 50
Goodnight.
Okay Bye.
Love Authorshyra❤️
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HER MUSE, HIS VIXEN
RomanceYashvardhan Chowdhary, 29, is the king of Udaipur-a cold and cunning politician known for his ruthless ways and ability to manipulate anyone to get what he wants. Power is his game, and no one dares to challenge him. Except for Saanvi Rajput, the 26...
