The Rathore Arrangement

Stop it, Agastya, Meher whispered, her hands trembling as she pushed against his solid chest. "The contract... we are just fake."

His hands locked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, trapping her against the cold marble wall. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers before he captured her mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss that left her breathless.

When he finally pulled back, his dark eyes burned with a terrifying, possessive fire.

"The moment you signed that contract," he gritted out, his thumb swiping across her swollen bottom lip. "The moment you took my surname... it became real."

Meher was just collateral. A debt paid by her father to Agastya Rathore-the most feared, ruthless political powerhouse in Delhi.

It was supposed to be a simple arrangement: play the dutiful wife in public, stay out of his way in private, and survive the gilded cage of the Rathore haveli.

But Agastya doesn't do 'pretend'. And the longer Meher stays, the more she realizes the executioner doesn't just want a wife on paper. He wants all of her.

A contract signed in blood and diamonds. Welcome to the Rathore Estate.