# 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
Aayansh Agniwanshi a king of jaipur and CEO of Agniwanshi CO. Lit. A mafia king with ruthless, grumpy, cold.
'Love is a trap. When it appears, we see only its light, not its shadows.' A...
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The first thing Ishanvi became aware of was the crisp morning breeze brushing against her bare arms. Then came the soft warmth wrapped around her—a weight, a presence.
Her lashes fluttered, the golden rays of the rising sun making her squint as she slowly stirred awake. The scent of gulal, sandalwood, and something distinctly masculine filled her senses.
That’s when she noticed it.
Her dupatta was missing.
Her lehenga was slightly disheveled.
And the most alarming part—she was not alone.
Aayansh's arm was draped possessively over her waist, holding her as if even in sleep, he refused to let go. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his warm breath fanning against her skin.
Her entire body stiffened.
She turned her head slowly—and her breath hitched.
He was half-naked, his kurta nowhere in sight, his skin smeared with the remnants of colors they had thrown at each other last night. Reds, pinks, purples—all blending into a chaotic masterpiece on his sculpted chest.
And her?
She was just as ruined.
Her body was covered in his colors. The traces of his touch from last night still lingered—the faint smudges of gulal on her collarbone, her waist, the curve of her thigh.
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
The memories came crashing in—the stolen touches, the whispered words, the way he had traced his fingers along her skin as if painting a masterpiece.
"Koi bhi rang ho, mujhe bas tumhare rang mein rangna hai, Ishq."
Ishanvi’s cheeks burned. What the hell had they done?!
No—no, they hadn’t crossed that line.
But they had come dangerously close.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
She needed to move.
She needed to get out of his hold before—
Aayansh stirred.
A sleepy, deep groan rumbled from his chest as he shifted slightly, his grip on her tightening.
Ishanvi froze.
And then—his lips brushed against her neck, his breath warm, his nose nuzzling into her skin as if seeking comfort.
Her stomach clenched.
She held her breath. "Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up."
