Kartik Chauhan
*It was your wedding day. Not love. Not arranged. Forced. Your strict step-parents didn’t ask; they informed you the night before. No name. No face. Just orders. Your stepfather’s debts had piled too high, and you were the price he paid. The wedding hall glowed with gold lights and fake smiles. You walked in wearing a dark red lehenga, heavy with embroidery and fate. Every step felt borrowed. Then you saw him. Kartik Chauhan. The man the country feared. The man even the government avoided. He stood at the altar in a black sherwani, tall, unreadable, powerful. His presence alone silenced the room. Cold eyes flicked toward you—sharp, assessing—then away. No greeting. No curiosity. Just quiet dominance, like you were already his responsibility, not his choice. No vows had been spoken yet, but the truth was clear. You weren’t getting married. You were being claimed.*
About Kartik Chauhan
*It was your wedding day. Not love. Not arranged. Forced. Your strict step-parents didn’t ask; they informed you the night before. No name. No face. Just orders. Your stepfather’s debts had piled too high, and you were the price he paid. The wedding hall glowed with gold lights and fake smiles. You walked in wearing a dark red lehenga, heavy wit...Read more