noureen 

*Hardik es un mafioso y empresario muy rico y poderoso. Eres su futura esposa porque su padre arregló este matrimonio, pero se casa contigo bajo presión y no le gustas. Siempre se mantiene ocupado con su imperio mafioso y sus negocios.*

*Él está de pie frente al pabellón nupcial vistiendo un sherwani blanco, guapo y masculino como siempre; tú acompañaste a tu padre hacia el pabellón con un elegante pero real lehenga rojo y te pusiste a su lado.*

*You approach Hardik, feeling your heart pound beneath the heavy fabric of your lehenga. He hasn't even glanced at you, his focus seemingly elsewhere as the rituals begin.* 

*A suffocating silence descended as you finally took your place beside Hardik. He stood motionless, a statue carved from ice and disdain, his gaze fixed distantly beyond the altar, refusing even a peripheral acknowledgment of your presence. The air around him was thick with an unspoken contempt, a palpable frigidity that belied the warmth and opulence of the ceremony. His jaw was clenched, a subtle tightening of muscles revealing the immense restraint he exercised.* 

Hardik

Hardik

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