HER POV
The car smelled of leather and expensive cologne, a scent so sharp it felt like ownership. Kaisha sat stiffly in the back seat, fingers gripping the edge of the seat as the city blurred past. The streets of Mumbai were alive—too loud, too fast, too unfamiliar.
He sat beside her, legs spread in effortless dominance, one hand resting on his knee while the other tapped against the window, watching, waiting, owning. His presence filled the car like something heavy, something she couldn't escape.
He leaned forward slightly, voice calm but absolute. "Take us to Palladium."
The driver nodded, no questions asked. Of course, no one questioned him.
A mall. Why was he taking her to a mall?
She turned to look at him, searching for the man from last night—the one who had spoken to her with a quiet kind of warmth, who had touched her like she was something fragile. But this ? This wasn't him.
This man was sharper. Colder. Dangerous.
Gone was the softness that had confused her, replaced by something else. Something unmovable. His aura had shifted, his entire presence heavier, more suffocating.
Her pulse quickened. Who even is he? The memory clawed its way back in, dragging her into the hours before.
Kaisha hadn't realized something was wrong until they had reached the airstrip.
There was no airport, no security lines, no crowds. Just a sleek black jet waiting under the floodlights, its engines humming like a quiet, living thing.
She had stopped in her tracks. "I don't have a passport," she had said, her voice sharper than she meant it to be. "Or a visa. Or—hell—any identification."
He had turned to her, his gaze calm, unreadable, dangerous.
"You think I need permission to take you?"
That sentence had stolen the breath from her lungs.
She had stared at him, waiting for a real answer, for something that made sense. But instead, he had just walked ahead, expecting her to follow.
And she had. Because what else could she do?
Inside the jet, everything was pristine and luxurious, but Kaisha barely noticed. She had sat stiffly, arms crossed, watching as Kabir took the seat across from her, perfectly at ease.
Minutes passed before she had finally asked, "What's your name?"
He had raised an eyebrow, as if she had just asked something absurd.
"Kabir."
The name had settled heavily in the space between them. Simple. Short. But it felt like the start of something that would ruin her.
She had swallowed hard. "And who are you?"
That smirk had been slow, cruel, almost amused. "The only man who matters in your world now."
His words had wrapped around her like chains, locking her in.
But after that? After the taunting, after the unshakable confidence—he had changed.
Somewhere in that long flight, the air between them had shifted.
He had given her his jacket when she shivered, his touch almost careful. He had spoken to her in a softer voice, asking if she was hungry, if she wanted to rest. He had let her fall asleep in her seat without waking her, his gaze unreadable but not cruel.
For hours, she had almost believed he could be kind.
But now? Now, That Kabir was gone.
Kaisha blinked hard, snapping back to the present.
The mall loomed ahead, glass and steel, expensive and towering.
She turned to him, searching his face, trying to understand. Why are you like this now? Why do you change like it means nothing?
But Kabir just leaned back against the seat, fingers tapping, gaze steady.
Always in control.
And she was beginning to understand—that was the real problem.
The car stopped and they both stepped out, Kabir buttoned his coat before pushing his hand inside his pants pocket, his tall figure asserting dominance and power.
Kaisha walked over and stood next to him, intimated by the huge building before her and a huge, powerful man beside her.
They walked in, guards and employees bowing down to him. She felt nervous and out of place.
"Welcome back Sir, What would you like to see today?" The head manager rushes towards them, He doesn't stop and continues walking and she just quietly followed him from a step back.
The manager walked with them, sparing glances at Kaisha who was nobody familiar to him from before. She felt nervous, uncomfortable with his gaze on her.
Kabir stops, startling her pacing and mind. He turns back and tilts his head smiling, looking at her. "Why're you walking behind me? You belong beside me Dove."
Her eyes widened in surprise alongside with the manager and guards walking beside and behind them.
Her eyebrows turned tensed, trying to communicate to him with her eyes but he just smiled before sliding a hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer.
A power move, a sudden touch, a weird feeling.
Before she could say anything he started walking again, this time with her beside him. Right at the place she now belonged to.
"Bring me the newest designs, each type, each kind." Kabir ordered, his voice commanding as they both sat at the couch inside the VIP room.
The guards positioned outside, the manager walks away bowing and closing the door leaving them both alone.
Kaisha gulped, her eyes wandering everywhere all around the room expect him. He sat with his legs folded, hand resting on the back, eyes never leaving her while she focused on everything else expect him, especially him.
His phone rings, pulling his attention away from her. Sliding his hand inside his pocket he brings his phone out, the phone ringing continues as he stares at the caller ID before silencing it.
He isn't in the mood to deal with other people right now when his wife's sitting right next to him, trying her best to avoid him. Right now, he must focus on how to get her attention.
A few minutes later, she leans over grabbing the water jug and poring herself water. Gulping it down she slowly turned her attention towards him expecting him to be busy with his work but he's already staring at her, his eyes focused just on her.
She stops, the glass still stuck near her lips while her eyes blink slowly. Her expression is cute, almost adorable.
"Done Ignoring?" He teases, his personality on a 180 degree change from 2 days before where he played being her saviour, now he's her husband.
She hiccups, a common habit whenever she was found doing something she wishes to hide. Putting the glass away she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and looks away from him, "I wasn't."
"Oh, so you weren't?" He leans in, his face near her neck as he speaks tacitly sending shivers to her body.
"Why are we—" Her eyes widened, the moment stuck when she turned her head back to him, her lips meeting his.
He stayed put, not moving away nor leaning in letting her decide the next step. Her widened eyes shakes and she pulls away covering her mouth with her small of a palm.
He bows his head down. Massaging his temple a smirk form on his mouth, he definitely enjoyed her reaction more than the abrupt intimacy.
That was his way of showing his control, his way to say "I'm the one pulling the strings."
"I— I am.. sorry." She apologises, her head still turned away from him.
"Look at me" He commands, yet his voice was calm almost soft.
Gulping her saliva and fearing what awaited her the moment she turned her, she did. Perplexity and fear laced on her face.
"Are you scared of me?" He asks, this time with softness. She tries to speak but bites her lower lip and nods instead.
"Scared of your own husband?" He pushes her further, her eyes shot upward crashing directly into his gaze.
His dark brown orbs, honey like eyes that seemed to control her breathing without doing as much.
"W-we are practically s-strangers." She stutters, her subconscious self absolutely lectures her for showing her vulnerable side to him but she seems to have no control over herself as her knees felt weak and wobbly due to his piercing gaze with eyes so captivating she wondered about them now and then and a voice not so deep yet so strong.
Just the perfect one, a perfect one.
"Stranger's who are married to each other." He corrects her, taking in every little detail about her in.
He seems to notice her moving Adam's apple, her knees slightly shaking that they could go unnoticed by people.
"It wasn't even a proper ritual to accept it as a wedding." She retorts, stating her point yet her voice wouldn't stop shaking.
Why does he affect me so much? Why can't I speak properly in front of him?
He cocks a brow, asking her to speak her heart and mind out.
She shifts, turns and sits facing him, "You practically forced me into this marriage. I don't get you— why did you have to cut your—" before she could finish his voice interrupted her.
"I forced you? Did I?" His voice challenging. She nods, scared yet determined to take a stand for herself.
"Then lets do it your ways, lets go back since it wasn't a proper ritual to call this even a marriage. Let's go back being just saviour and surviver." Her eyes turned wide, startled to see him copping out so easily.
Did he really mean that? Did he really said I can refuse to this and go back to living my life the same way again. Without him.
"But can you risk going back there?Would you want to return back?" His question sends her into profound consideration.
She bites her down her lower lip, afraid to say it out loud but strangely, unknowingly, unexpectedly...she felt safer with him.