His Reluctant Bride

"I am never-ever-going to marry you, Mr. Malhotra."

Swati's voice didn't shake. Not this time. Not in front of him.

Not in front of the man who had spent years turning her life into a battlefield.

Nitin smirked.

Slow. Dangerous. Familiar.

"You will, Swati..." he stepped closer, eyes locking onto hers like he already knew the ending of a story she was still fighting.
"You will."

Her heart betrayed her first-skipping, stumbling-
but she held her ground.

"You really think you can force me into this?" she shot back, chin lifting, defiance shining in her eyes.
"This isn't college anymore. I'm not that girl who used to argue with you over marks and lose sleep over your stupid comments."

A low chuckle escaped him.

"Exactly," he murmured, tilting his head slightly.
"You're not that girl anymore."

And then-closer.

Too close.

"You're the woman I chose."

Her breath hitched-but she refused to step back.

"As you know..." his voice dropped, softer now, but far more dangerous,
"...I don't lose."

Swati clenched her fists.

"You're impossible."

"And you," he said, eyes flickering with something deeper than just arrogance,
"are still mine to challenge."

Silence stretched between them-heavy, electric, unfinished.

Because this wasn't just about a marriage.

It never was.

It was about stolen glances in college corridors.
Unspoken feelings buried under rivalry.
A love that neither of them had the courage to name-
until fate forced their hand.

And now?

Now there was no running.

Only one question remained-

Who would surrender first?