"You have no idea what I am going to do now .........Love!"
Dark Romance
Betrayer
Hate
Forced
-------------------
He got her but she ............ran away
*Zade cursed under his breath as she suddenly ran away. He quickly pulls himself together, risi...
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The morning sunlight hit my face like it had a personal grudge. I groaned, dragging the pillow over my head. Sleep had been useless. Every time I closed my eyes, his voice slipped back in—
"You have no idea how much I want to ruin you..."
God, that man. That arrogant, self-obsessed, no-boundary, excuse for a professor.
I sat up, hair in complete chaos, and glared at the mirror like it owed me answers. "Why am I even thinking about him?" I muttered. "He's not that special. Just tall, rude, and... infuriatingly composed."
A smug voice echoed in my head.
"Miss Advani, maybe next time, you'll think before you open that mouth in my class."
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my brain. "He's lucky he's Ahaan's brother," I grumbled, grabbing my towel. "Otherwise, I'd have thrown my coffee on his perfect stupid face by now."
The house was already alive with noise. My mother's voice carried through the hall — wedding chaos day two.
I groaned again, tying my robe tighter and heading downstairs. My phone buzzed: Ahaan.
Ahaan: Skipping college today, sunshine? Tara: Don't start. It's Mehndi prep day, remember? Ahaan: Perfect. Zade's coming along too. Tara: ...You're kidding. Ahaan: He offered to help with the event. Said he "owes" your dad something. Tara: That man wouldn't help a butterfly cross the road, what are you talking about?
My pulse stuttered. He was coming here? In broad daylight?
"Oh no," she whispered. "Not again. Not today." But even as I said it, a traitorous part of me — the one that loved chaos — smirked. "Fine," I muttered, heading to my wardrobe. "Let's give him something to frown about."
I pulled out the boldest outfit I could find — simple yet sharp. Clean lines. Statement earrings. Trouble written all over.
___________________________
The Advani mansion buzzed with life. Servants moved in and out carrying trays of sweets and plates of marigolds. Someone was shouting about décor; someone else was arguing about music. The scent of mehndi, flowers, and freshly brewed coffee clung to the air.
And in the middle of all that chaos stood Tara Advani — radiant, impatient, and already done with everyone. Her hair was tied up in a messy twist, her wrists jingled with bangles, and her sharp eyes scanned the arrangements like a commander preparing for battle.
"Where's the pool décor?" she called out, irritation clear in her tone. "If those fairy lights don't look perfect by evening, I'm drowning someone myself!"
