Sin & Silence 18+

The heavy gold embroidery of the red lehenga snagged on the mahogany doorframe as Mira scrambled backward. The silk rustled violently, a sharp contrast to the oppressive silence of the room. Her chest heaved, the tight choli restricting her breath, while the scent of crushed jasmine and stale incense clung to her skin.
"I hate you!" she spat, the words jagged and raw.
Tears carved salt-streaked paths through the thick kohl on her cheeks. She looked every bit the newlywed bride, a vision in crimson and gold, though her eyes held only devastation.
"Congratulations!" she shrieked, her voice cracking under the weight of a sob. "You ruined me! How can you be so cruel?"
veeranshu didn't flinch. He stepped forward, his polished shoes clicking rhythmically on the marble floor. He stopped inches from her, the scent of expensive sandalwood and cold rain clinging to his tailored suit. He offered no defense. He didn't apologize. He simply looked at her, his gaze scanning the trembling curve of her lip and the frantic pulse hammering in her throat.
"Strip," he said.
The word was a low vibration, devoid of emotion. Meera froze. The air in the room seemed to vanish, leaving her gasping.
"What?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"You heard me. Take it off.
"No," she whimpered, clutching the sheer fabric of her dupatta to her chest as if it could shield her from him. "Please, not this. Not tonight."
"The clothes are a lie, Meeraa. The marriage is a transaction. I have no interest in the costume."
"I am a human being, not a transaction!"
"Then stop acting like a victim and start acting like a wife."
Meera shook her head, a guttural sob escaping her throat. The heavy jewelry around her neck felt like a gilded noose, pulling her down into the depths of his will.
"I can't," she breathed.
"You can. Or we can discuss about your father ....