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In a world ruled by bloodlines and bargains, love was never meant to be part of the equation.
The palace echoed with silence, the kind that wrapped around Rivanya like a noose. Tonight, she wasn’t a daughter. She wasn’t a dreamer. She was a pawn—a woman traded for peace between two worlds drenched in power and shadows.
Her reflection stared back from the antique mirror, adorned in red and gold, her eyes the only part of her that dared to look uncertain. This was the price of being born into legacy—her freedom stitched into the fabric of her bridal lehenga. Her hands trembled not from fear of the man she was about to marry, but from the storm she knew was coming.
Rudraksh Singh Ranawat was no ordinary groom. He was the mafia king—the ruler of an empire forged in blood and silence. A man untouched by mercy, unmoved by sentiment. His name was enough to bring empires to their knees. His heart, however, was a fortress no one dared enter. Not even her.
He hadn’t asked for a wife. She hadn’t dreamed of a marriage like this. And yet, tonight, their fates were sealed in sacred fire and silent war.
To him, it was a transaction. An alliance to secure power, to protect his family’s empire from crumbling. To her, it was a sacrifice—a surrender she never thought she’d have to make. Love? That was a luxury neither of them could afford.
But fate doesn’t deal in logic. And hearts? They don’t wait for permission.
Rivanya saw him for who he was: ice dressed in flesh, a man who flinched at kindness and lived by rules written in rage. But behind his cold stare, she caught glimpses—of grief, of loneliness, of a soul tired of carrying the weight of empires. And against all odds, she fell.
Slowly. Quietly. Dangerously.
And Rudraksh? He tried to stay untouched. He tried to ignore the girl with fire in her soul and softness in her voice. But she cracked him open. Piece by piece. And when he fell, he did it without armor—without restraint. And it scared him more than any bullet ever had.
But theirs was not a world built for love.
Whispers of betrayal hovered in the air. Enemies circled like vultures. Loyalties frayed at the edges. Their marriage became a battlefield—not just of power and legacy, but of hearts learning how to bleed together.
Could something as fragile as love survive the storm?
Could they?
In a life ruled by vengeance, legacy, and masks, Rivanya and Rudraksh would learn that some vows are more than tradition. Some are curses. And some... are fate written in fire.
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-Lime
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