# 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...
First of all, let me tell you that today's chapter may be a little offensive and let me tell you that I have little knowledge about this, so if there is any mistake, please ignore it. _______________________________________________________
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The morning sun slipped quietly through the cream-gold curtains, casting a soft glow over their room as Ishanvi stepped out of the closet, her green saree delicately swaying with every movement.
She looked ethereal.
A bottle green satin-silk saree with a thin golden border hugged her curves, pleated perfectly around her slim waist. The blouse — sleeveless, deep back with golden doris tied in a neat bow — added just the right hint of mischief to her grace. A soft bun rested at the nape of her neck, with flicks of her hair teasing her cheeks, and a pair of emerald jhumkas dancing lightly every time she moved. Her skin glowed against the green fabric, the saree dipping just low enough to showcase the little mole on her waist.
And in her hands — was a delicate golden kamarbandh (waist chain). Intricate, studded with tiny green stones, it shimmered like temptation itself.
She was humming a soft tune as she tried to clasp the chain around her waist, lips slightly pursed in focus, unaware of the storm she was about to stir.
Just then—
Click.
The door opened and Aayansh walked in, adjusting his silver cufflink, dressed sharply in a tailored navy business suit. His jawline looked sharper today, his hair perfectly set, a black watch hugging his wrist. He looked powerful. Dangerous. Royal.
And then he saw her.
His steps froze. His breath hitched.
Her back was to him, the green saree flowing like molten silk down her body. But what caught him—what undid him completely—was that golden chain. The way it kissed her waist. The way her fingers trembled as she tried to hook it in place. The way her skin dipped where the chain met her belly.
His weakness.
A secret he never told anyone.
Not even her.
He could handle her teasing, her giggles, even her kisses… but this? This was different.
He didn't move. Just watched. As if his body refused to follow his mind.
She turned slightly, catching him through the mirror.
“Aap kab aaye?” she asked casually, still struggling with the hook.
["When did you come?"]
He blinked once. Twice.
“Abhi…” he replied, his voice rougher than usual.
["Just now..."]
She pouted. “Yeh chain toh lag hi nahi rahi. Dekhiye na zara?”
