I thrive on control.
On perfectly crafted plans.
My whole future dictates on it.
When they veer off course, even slightly, it causes a blunder in my life that I can’t afford. Because you see, my plans aren’t for the fainthearted. It’s a long con and every piece needs to fit into its proper place.
Others’ best-laid plans may go awry, but not mine.
When you’re born to lead a legacy, flourish it to new heights, you can’t risk being lax. Reckless. Or in my case, falling in bed with the enemy. Yet, it’s exactly what my father is expecting of me. As if marrying me to the daughter of his long-term rival will magically erase the years of heartbreak, pain, and depression.
He’s deluded if he believes I’m silently going to fall in line.
When it comes to business, I may listen to him. Respect and learn from his years of blood, sweat, and tears in building an empire for me to lead one day. However, this is my future he’s wrecking apart.
All because of some grandiose belief it will end the bad blood and the vindictiveness.
What a fool.
It’s all bullshit being the bigger person. Fuck that.
I despise the Kapoors and everything they stand for. Not because I’ve been taught, but because of the high regard they hold themselves with, looking down their haughty noses at everybody while thinking they’re above us all.
My childhood was spent growing up surrounded by dirty rumors disparaging my family’s name. I heard them all, being whispered in dark corners and hummed low in my proximity. In the eyes that watched me like hawks. The constant attention of the media and the authorities.
Through it all, I stood tall and untouchable.
People assumed I was charming by nature, when the truth is, I’ve crafted it in my quest to prove the gossip wrong. To earn the respect of my peers. While maintaining a distance, never letting anyone close.
People are fools. You tell them what they want to hear, they’ll worship you like a god.
Perfecting the mask and constantly wearing it has only fueled the hatred and fire in my veins. It is always simmering under the surface, waiting to burn those around in its flames.
But there’s only a single person deserving of it.
Mihir Kapoor.
Just the thought of marrying his offspring makes my skin crawl. No matter the effect her sharp-witted tongue had on me. I had almost expected a meek and obedient little thing. Or maybe Daddy’s precious bimbo and spoiled princess.
Instead, I was shot in the face by a stunningly lethal creature, with enough sass and sarcasm to make a weak man drop to his knees. But that doesn’t mean I want her. Quite the opposite, actually.
I neither like nor hate her.
Rosalie Kapoor is nothing but a pesky and distracting obstacle suddenly dropped in my path. A nasty bug. Hence, she has to be removed. I assumed it would be easy, but she’s turning out to be more difficult than I predicted.
A whole fucking week has flown by with no heeding to my threat on her part.
The snarky little bug is still attached to my hip as my fiancée.
Without her disagreement, there will be no getting out of the wedding from hell.
The match made in the wrath of our elders.
Tying our families together will only breathe life to old wounds and betrayals. If only my father could see it. But no, he’s too blinded by his own intentions. After all, it will bring him closer to her.
As long as I’m alive, it ain’t happening.
I would deny to marry Rosalie in a heartbeat and dare to go against my father for maybe the first time in my life. But my hands are tied. Because it was my grandfather’s last dying wish to bring truce to the two families.
I only love two people in my life. The first is my mother and the second was him.
He was sick of the constant fights, sneaky games of tearing each other down. So, he made me promise on his deathbed that I will always abide by what my father says. That there are wishes and hard truths only he knows and to trust him.
And if there’s ever a way to end the rivalry, listen to him.
Although, I’m really struggling to keep my promise.
In fact, I’m on the very brink of breaking it as I arrive at the Kapoors’ extravagant property. The smooth and cemented driveway decorated with large pinecone trees and a lavish garden with a view of the hills surrounding it.
In the middle of it sits the five-story mansion that rivals our own.
Because Mihir is an obnoxious and pretentious prick, the circular driveway is adorned with two large lion-shaped fountains with water sprouting out of their mouths.
Ironic, considering his daughter’s taste is entirely the opposite.
Warm. Understated. Otherworldly. A tad gothic.
Expected, since she’s a walking, talking goth Barbie.
That’s what they nicknamed Rosalie in high school. Flaming red hair, hypnotic coal-black eyes—she was the center of attention. Despite her best efforts to remain invisible. She could never fade into the background.
It wasn’t because of her father’s reputation or wealth behind her last name.
It was all her.
Being mine will only put her under the microscope. Knowing her, she will abhor it.
However, her parents are either deluded or simply don’t give a fuck because her mother rang yesterday and invited me to come spend time with my new fiancée. A lame attempt for us to get to know one another better.
Yep, I’ve been turned into a genie, granting everyone their wishes.
Everyone’s except my own.
“So let me get this straight,” mumbles Nathan in amusement from beside me in the passenger seat. “I’m your buffer for today. Need protection from the little goth? Afraid she’s going to cast a witchy spell on you? Or maybe she has a voodoo doll with your name on it stashed somewhere.”
“Shut up,” I snap, making him snicker.
A very likely possibility, though, considering the dicky stunt I pulled last time. The stark defiance on her face, those delectable lips mouthing me off, I couldn’t resist putting her in her place. In a way, I took my frustration and helplessness at the situation out on her. I’m afraid if we get married, it’ll become a thing.
Through no fault of her own, little Rose will pay for the sins of her father.
It’s why I put the ball in her court.
If she’s foolish enough to bind her fate to mine, so be it. She will have everything that’s coming to her and then some.
“You’re here to ensure I don’t do something I regret.”
“More like, ensure goth Barbie doesn’t throttle you.”
“If she pokes her nose out from the books long enough,” I grunt, distracted by the memory of her flushed cheeks tinged with embarrassment. I bet she’ll lock her bedroom today.
If she’s even aware I’m visiting per her mother’s wish.
“Like she’d ever risk bringing her books around you ever again,” teases Nathan. “That was a low blow, even by your standards.”
“I didn’t bring you here for a lecture, not that you’re a saint by any standards. You’re here so I’m not treading into enemy territory alone. I wouldn’t trust anyone here.”
“I’m your glorified bodyguard then,” he jokes. “Fair warning, I’m more likely to cheer and record from the sidelines than help you. Definitely watching if it’s Rosalie exacting her revenge.”
“Douche.” He just laughs. “How about you stay with Jasmine and I’ll handle myself? You’re friends with her.”
“I’m friends with everybody.”
True, and very fucking annoying.
I remember plain as day the first time we met. It was my first day in the private middle school and at first glance, I knew I didn’t belong there. I stood out like a sore thumb. Broody, angry at the world, and with a chip on my shoulder. Even though I was only eleven.
My father was rich but those children’s parents were mega rich.
The elite.
The one percent.
My family’s business was booming and Dad wanted to give me things he never had growing up. Despite the path he had chosen to rise to the top, he wanted to convey that we righteously belonged here. No matter what anyone said.
However, I wasn’t the least bit interested. It showed on my face and I was adamant in staying alone rather than make friends. But Nathan Singhania was even more of a tenacious bastard than me.
Oh, he didn’t approach me like a normal kid. Instead, he hit me in the chest with a flying basketball and shouted, “Does that pissy scowl come with action or is it all for show? ’Cause we’re short of a player.”
The challenging grin on his smug face had me wanting to smash his teeth. Of course, I couldn’t resist rising to the bait and replied, “As long as you’re not squeamish about blood.”
He laughed and raised his middle finger. The next few days were almost the same. Him baiting and me—falling. Next thing I knew, we were attached at the hip, and the rest is history.
As for staying on the sideline, he never would. He’s always had my back, fighting on the ground. Front and center.
I pull my Maybach Exelero to a stop at the end of the driveway. Nathan gets out and I follow suit. Thank fuck, I didn’t have to dress formal like the last time. It makes my skin itch and yet it’s inevitably my future if I want to lead my father’s multinational company.
As we climb the short stretch of stairs, the double doors open before we can knock. The maid—dressed impeccably—offers a polite smile and invites us in. From my last visit, I am aware of the way to the large drawing room.
Everything looks the same as that day.
Cold. Impersonal. Neat—too neat.
You can’t tell a family resides in here. It feels more like a showing for real estate buyers. Staged to look inviting but missing the mark. I can’t imagine myself growing up here. I would go insane.
No wonder my fiancée is a bibliophile.
“Christ,” winces Nathan. “Here I thought my house was cold.”
“Mihir runs a dictatorship, apparently.”
Before he can respond back with an insult, soft footsteps catch our attention right before a tall willowy woman descends the stairs. I immediately recognize her as Rosalie’s mother, Lily Kapoor. The similarities are uncanny.
However, the mature version before me is more colorful and… amicable.
“Nova, you came,” she greets with a bright friendly smile. I still when she wraps her arms around me, leaving me no choice but to bend and hug her back. Turning to my best friend, she says, “You must be Nathan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kapoor,” he drawls and returns her hug. When they draw back, he says flirtatiously, “May I say, the photos don’t do you justice.”
“Oh shush.”
I roll my eyes inwardly. He keeps it up and she might just replace him as her daughter’s fiancé. Hmm, now there’s a plan. If only the dickhead wasn’t my best friend, I would gladly sacrifice him.
Lily switches her attention to me, gaze softening and a bit hesitant as she speaks. “I’m so happy you said yes, Nova. I know the engagement was fast and done the old-fashioned way but I don’t want you to feel pressured, no matter what the men say. I only ask you to give it a chance and get to know Rosa. Our families have suffered enough.”
Yours hasn’t nearly.
I bite my tongue until I taste blood and give a forced smile. “I think it’s too late to back out now. After all, the marital contract is signed and I don’t know if you read it, but it’s binding unless one of us dies.”
Her face pales but I feel no remorse.
She should’ve thought before proposing the idea in front of the two powerful and greedy men. In our families, nothing is traditional or as simple. And a love marriage, it’s a myth.
“But don’t worry, I never back out of my obligations.” I smile coldly, pocketing my hands. “So, I may as well get to know your daughter. Where is she, by the way?”
At the mention of Rosalie, she recovers quickly but the trepidation is alive in her gaze. So someone does care for Rosalie in this house, rather than treating her like a prized toy. I file the information away.
“She’s with Jasmine. I’ll let her know you arrived,” Lily replies. “I’ve arranged for you all to sit in the garden. Let me show you.”
Family portraits hang on the walls as we walk down the hallway, leading to the back. Bright sunlight illuminates the path and the entrance to the garden is decorated with an arch. The weather is nice and warm to hang outside and, in the middle, is a low-rise table and four chairs to sit.
“How are you liking London, Nova?” Lily asks, peering over her shoulder. “You’re studying business, right?”
“Yeah. Although, I’ve been to London before, so I’m familiar with the city.”
“Maybe Rosa could choose a university in London once she graduates from school. I’ll definitely feel better if she knows someone there,” she casually remarks, without bothering for my reply. “What about you, Nathan?”
“I have no plans to study abroad,” he answers. I breathe easy being off the hook. “My father wants me in the city while he grooms me for the company.”
“How’s Kian? I haven’t seen him at any of the galas lately.”
Nathan tenses and gives a tight-lipped smile. “He’s joined the army, Mrs. Kapoor.”
“Will you bring Rosa, Mrs. Kapoor?” I interrupt, before she can continue her interrogation. “I’m afraid I have plans later in the afternoon.”
“Sorry, I tend to get carried away.”
Giving us an apologetic smile, she turns and disappears inside. Nathan sighs and plumps down in one of the chairs, rubbing his palm over his face. “I fucking hate small talk.”
“Suits you for being friendly to everyone.”
“Asshole.” He shakes his head when I raise my middle finger. “If your conversation with Lily is anything to go by, I can see we’re here to waste our time since you have no intention of being a gentleman.”
“I’ve filled my quota of being nice and charming for the week. Besides, this is just a farce of a meeting and I’m not one for letting bygones be bygones. Mihir and Lily should know what they signed their daughter up for.”
“Then just say no. Why are you willingly locking yourself in a cage for a lifetime?”
“It’s complicated.”
“What isn’t in our lives?”
Nathan’s life may appear perfect from the outside. However, it is anything but. While I’m stuck in a hate-fueled engagement, his future is toppled after his older brother, Kian, decided to join the army. Instead of taking over the family business. The weight of the responsibilities is now on Nathan’s shoulders. One he wasn’t interested in.
Daughters in our society may think their future is dictated by their parents while the sons live as they please. They couldn’t be more wrong. We’re just as doomed as them by our fathers’ expectations.
“Why the fuck is she taking so long?” I grumble, sipping from the water bottle left by one of the maids.
“After your disinterest, Lily may be giving her pointers. Or dressing her up in a kurta or sari to impress you.”
“This isn’t the eighties.”
“She’s probably going to come out holding a tray of tea to serve us.”
“Then proceed to throw it in my face.”
Nathan stands and sits opposite me. At my scowl, he shrugs. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Prick.”
Right then, the she-devil rounds the corner with Jasmine—her older sister—trailing along her side. The latter has a friendly smile while the bane of my existence is throwing daggers at me with her eyes.
Thankfully, no tray.
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