Abhiraj (mr. possessive )

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Abhiraj exhaled sharply, leaning back in his leather chair, fingers steepled as he listened to Lucas rant about some new business merger. He wasn’t paying attention. His mind had been occupied with other things. Namely, his wife.

God, even thinking the word made his blood boil.

He hadn’t wanted this marriage. Hadn’t wanted her. And yet, here he was—tied to a woman who was as sharp as a blade and twice as dangerous. A woman who was making it her life’s mission to prove she could outlast him.

Lucas finally stopped talking long enough to notice. “Okay. What’s with the murder face?”

Abhiraj’s jaw ticked. “Maya.”

Lucas let out a knowing laugh, settling into the chair across from him. “Trouble in paradise already?”

Abhiraj scoffed. “Trouble implies there was ever peace.”

Lucas smirked. “So, what’s she done now?”

Abhiraj drummed his fingers against the desk. “She exists.”

Lucas whistled. “That bad, huh?”

Worse. She was everywhere. In his office. In his mind. In his goddamn house. Strolling around like she belonged there, like she wasn’t an invader in his space. And the worst part? She wasn’t breaking. She was playing the game just as ruthlessly as he was.

He needed to remind her who was in control.

A slow, calculated smirk curled his lips. Fine, sweetheart. You want to make this war? Then I’ll burn everything down.

*********************************

By the time he got home, the rules were set.

Rule One: No touching.

Neither of them wanted each other, and neither wanted the other’s hands anywhere near them.

Rule Two: The perfect couple act in public..

Business was business, and they had appearances to maintain.

Rule Three: No interference in private life.

What she did in her personal time was her business. What he did in his was his.

Rule Four: They would always hate each other.

Even if they had to sleep in the same bed, there would never be anything between them but resentment.

Abhiraj sat across from her in the dimly lit living room, legs spread lazily, eyes fixed on hers like a predator watching his prey. Maya, to her credit, looked completely unbothered, sipping on her wine like this entire situation amused her.

“You look too pleased with yourself,” he remarked.

She smirked. “Oh, I am. I love a well-organized war.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “War? Darling, this is a massacre. You just don’t know it yet.”

She tilted her head. “That so?”

“Mm.” He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to something almost dangerous. “And when I win, I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

Her lips parted slightly before she rolled her eyes and stood up, heading toward their bedroom. “Keep dreaming, husband.”

He watched her go, fingers tightening into fists.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

*******************************

Abhiraj was already in a foul mood when he heard the soft click of heels against marble, the sound cutting through the heavy silence of the mansion.

His gaze snapped to the doorway just in time to see Maya—dressed in something entirely unacceptable, a short, black, body-hugging dress that left way too little to the imagination.

His mood went from foul to deadly.

“Where are you going?”

His baritone voice startled her, making her freeze mid-step before turning to find him standing in the dimly lit hallway, arms crossed, eyes sharp as a blade.

She arched a brow. “Out.”

His jaw ticked. “Try again.”

She let out a breath, tilting her head with an exasperated expression. “I don’t need your permission, Abhiraj. I can go wherever I want.”

He took a slow step forward, voice dropping lower, colder. “One more step, Maya, and I will make sure you can’t walk.”

She stiffened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

His eyes darkened. “It means you are my wife now. And if you take one more step out that door in that tiny, reveal-all dress, I swear to God, I will lose my temper. And when I lose my temper…” he let the words hang in the air, thick with warning, “then I’ll personally make sure you can’t sit or walk comfortably for a week. Understand now?”

She scoffed. “No, I don’t understand. I am an independent woman, Abhiraj. I can take care of myself. And, might I remind you, we agreed to no touching in this marriage?”

He took another step forward, his presence suffocating. “Maya, our arranged marriage agreement be damned. You’re walking out in a dress that’s barely there, looking like every man’s fantasy. And you think I’m just going to let you?” His voice was pure steel.

She lifted her chin defiantly. “We hate each other, remember? We’re enemies. Why do you care?”

His expression was thunderous. “Because if you walk out that door looking like that, every man in that room is going to stare at you, whisper about you, want you.” He let the words sink in before continuing. “And do you want to know what’s going to happen then?”

She arched a brow. “What?”

His voice was a near growl. “I’ll be sitting there, trying to run my business, while every bastard in the room is undressing you with their eyes. And the worst part? I won’t be able to do anything about it because of our stupid ‘no touching’ rule.”

For the first time, something flickered in her eyes. Understanding.

His voice dropped even lower, dangerously smooth. “Let me make something clear. Just because we hate this marriage doesn’t mean I’ll let you put yourself in danger. Being a CEO doesn’t teach you how to deal with men who think they can take whatever they want.”

She crossed her arms. “I know martial arts, by the way. I can handle myself.”

He let out a dark chuckle, stepping even closer. “Martial arts? Really? Then why did your body just shiver when I came near you?” His lips curled in amusement. “Should I test just how well those martial arts work against someone like me?”

She held her ground, though I could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "If I have a problem, you can protect me at the party, not lecture me here."

Her eyes flashed with defiance, but she took a step back. “If it means you’ll finally shut up and let me go.. Protect me at the party instead of giving me this stupid lecture.”

His smirk widened, slow and lethal. “Fine.” He leaned in slightly, voice a whisper against her skin. “You want me to protect you?”

She swallowed but held his gaze. “Yes.”

His eyes glinted dangerously. “Then I’ll be sticking to you like glue. You breathe, I breathe. You move, I move.” His voice turned soft, almost mocking. “Understand?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Because for the first time, it wasn’t just a battle of wills anymore.

It was massacre...we will going to create..