Prologue
A sharp crash echoed through the room as the vase hit the wall and shattered. Pieces scattered across the floor—silent, helpless.
Myra flinched, but she didn’t scream.
She didn’t cry.
“You—”
His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerous.
He walked toward her.
Myra stepped back instinctively until her back met the wall. Nowhere to go. Her fingers curled into her palms as she lowered her eyes, her heart pounding too loudly in her chest.
“Look at me.”
She didn’t move.
“I said—look at me.”
Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
His deep brown eyes were cold. Not furious. Worse—detached. As if she were already beneath him.
“Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?” he asked.
Before she could respond, he caught her wrist and pulled her toward the tall mirror.
“Look,” he said quietly.
She did.
“Do you see it now?” he continued.
“Why you’ll never be enough?”
Her reflection stared back at her—still, pale, trying not to break.
“You’re nothing like the woman I wanted,” he said.
“Not my type. Not my taste.”
He stood behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath against her skin. His presence pressed into her, heavy and suffocating.
“And yet,” he murmured,
“here you are.”
Her throat tightened.
“A replacement,” he added.
“A scapegoat for your family.”
She didn’t argue.
Didn’t plead.
She only nodded once.
That was when he smiled.
Not wide.
Not cruel.
Satisfied.
As if he had finally crushed the little world she used to live in.
He stepped back.
“Stay where you belong,” he said coldly.
And walked out.
The door closed.
Myra remained standing in front of the mirror long after the room fell silent.
Rajveer.
Her sister’s ex-fiancé.
Now her husband.
And this—
was only the beginning.
