Page 28 of Entangled Vows

Outrage flared in her eyes as her voice shot up. “I was not drunk!”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?” Vikram arched a brow, infuriatingly composed. “Because from what I saw, you were completely hammered.”

“Thank you for your expert analysis, but it doesn’t change one thing. I’mnotmarrying you today.”

“Youare. Because if you refuse, I’ll tell Mr. Rao that you are backing out of this marriage. And then, bye-bye beloved beach house.”

His voice was commanding and there was no emotion in it, only a cruel calmness, as if marrying her was just another deal he had to close. He made it sound like her refusal would affect only her life and not his. And that hurt more than it should have.

How dare he use the beach house to bend her to his whims?It was a truth that was too bitter to swallow. And fool that she was, she had actually thought he might care about her.

She had expected something. Anger, frustration, anything that would prove he cared. But Vikram Khurana gave her nothing. He was cold, curt, impossible to read, and every bit the heartless man she had always thought him to be.

Or maybe she was being extra touchy because she was… frustrated. Sexually frustrated. Her last boyfriend had been a walking red flag, and after he’d cheated on her, she hadn’t trusted herself to date again. She’d gone two whole years without so much as a kiss! If she’d known her so-called freedom would be snatched away so soon, she might have spent those years indulging in reckless abandon instead of caution.

She scowled at him, her anger simmering hotter than it should. “I’mprettysure the clause we signed weeks ago said nothing about you yanking me out of bed, shoving toxic sludge down my throat, and barking orders like some… army sergeant.”

Vikram’s nostrils flared. He leaned forward, his voice dangerous and hushed. “Maybe you should’ve read the fine print. It said we act like a real couple. And real couples actually give a damn about each other.”

He slid the glass towards her, his eyes still on her. “Drink.”

Vikram didn’t bother to argue. He just grabbed his own glass and chugged the whole thing in one go. Mahika’s eyes wereinstantly drawn to the way his throat moved as he swallowed, and before she could stop herself, her thoughts spiralled into what he’d look like without that stiff jacket, the crisp shirt, or the perfectly knotted tie—

She snapped herself out of it.Nope. Not going there.

“If you think I signed up to be your puppet for the next year, you’re dead wrong,” she retorted. “I’m not taking orders from anybody. Least of all you.”

She turned on her heel and stormed into her walk-in closet, muttering curses under her breath. Vikram could go to hell—along with his annoyingly sharp jaw and that infuriating judgmental gaze.

Discarding her cardigan, she strode off towards the bathroom. She had barely taken a breath in relief that she was alone when the bedroom door crashed open.

Vikram stood in the doorway with fire blazing in his eyes. His jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up, and tension rippled through every inch of him.

“What the hell are you doing?” She froze, suddenly way too aware of her skimpy outfit, and snapped, “You’re invading my privacy!”

Her voice shook with anger, but his silence spoke volumes. It was too controlled, and way too quiet for someone about to lose it.

His jaw clenched as he stepped closer, thrusting the green smoothie glass towards her. “I don’t give a fuck. Momo. Drink. It.”

She glared at him. “Fuck. You.”

His nostrils flared, his eyes going even darker.

“What’s wrong?” she taunted, raising an eyebrow. “Not used to hearingNO?”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes... anger? Maybe lust? But she ignored it.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said icily. “I didn’t agree to that ridiculous stuff in that dumb clause willingly. If I had my way, I’d be on a plane to Australia, leaving everything behind. I never wanted my dad’s money or his empire. And I sure as hell don’t want anything from you. But I will do what is required for the next year.”

Her tone cut like glass, each word measured. “In public, I’ll play my part. I’ll smile, hold your hand, and make people believe this is real by playing the perfect wife. But behind closed doors, within the four walls of the house,” She met his gaze, unblinking, “we mean nothing to each other, Grizzly, just like always.”

He took a slow step towards her, his broad frame closing in on her space. Her walk-in closet was spacious, but with him in here, it suddenly felt suffocatingly small.

“It’s cute that you think that’s how this year is going to play out,” he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “Because faking it gets tricky when you’re busy screaming my name.”

“Trust me, if I ever moan your name, it’ll only be followed by a curse.” She balled her hands into fists, trying to ignore the charged tension in the air.

“One year is a long time to waste hating me,” he murmured, his voice almost coaxing.