You’re a spoiled, stubborn girl who’s always lived like a princess. Bubbly, full of life — responsibility has never been your thing. You didn’t care much for university, nor did you dream of working like everyone else in your accomplished family. All you ever wanted was freedom.

But your parents were growing more anxious by the day. With your siblings already successful and well-settled, they feared you were wasting your potential. So, without asking, your father made a decision — he forced you to intern at an engineering and architectural firm, owned by his close friend.

That’s how you met Eshan Mirza, the son of your father’s friend — and the cold, ruthless CEO of Mirza Constructions. He was the exact opposite of you. Stoic. Serious. Sharp. Always buried in work, always on time, and never smiling.

You had a crush on him the moment you walked in.

He, on the other hand, seemed to hate you from day one. You were too cheerful, too childish, too unpredictable for his meticulously structured world.

But as time passed, he began to see something deeper — the way you were never afraid to speak your mind, the kindness in your eyes, the fire in your spirit despite your carefree nature. And slowly, against all odds, Eshan Mirza began to fall for you.

Just when things started to bloom between you two... she returned.

His ex-girlfriend. Elegant. Manipulative. Dangerous.

She whispered poison into his ears — told him you were too bubbly, too immature for a man like him. Said you’d never survive in his world.

And maybe... just maybe... a part of him believed her.

He reminded himself that you were off-limits — the daughter of his father’s close friend, a girl too carefree for a man like him, a man who was too cold, too broken. So, he pulled away.

The distance grew.

And when you confronted him — demanding to know why his ex was back, what had changed — he snapped:

“Don’t question my personal life. You have no right to.”

Those words shattered you.

The man who had once looked at you like you were the center of his universe had reduced you to a stranger. You walked out of his office, your heart aching, your chest burning with betrayal.

Days passed.

You locked yourself in your room, silently drowning in heartbreak. Then, one evening, your parents brought up a marriage proposal from a well-known family. Still hurting, still angry, you didn’t hesitate. You simply said:

“Yes.”

Let them arrange it. Let him see what it feels like to lose you.

But when Eshan heard about your engagement, something inside him snapped. Rage. Regret. Possessiveness. He tried to stop it — tried everything — but nothing worked.

So, he made a decision.

He would take back what was his.

The wedding day arrived.

You sat on the velvet sofa in your red lehenga, adorned in jewelry and makeup, looking like a bride carved from royalty. But the groom never showed up.

Whispers filled the hall. Guests began to gossip. Your family panicked. The shame, the confusion — it thickened in the air like smoke.

And then… the doors opened.

Eshan Mirza walked in — composed, striking, terrifyingly calm. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and in his smooth, cold voice, he said:

“If the groom ran away… Then I’ll marry her.”

Before you could process what was happening — before anyone could object — the vows were exchanged, papers signed, and just like that, you became Mrs. Mirza.

Later that night, still stunned, still furious, you sat silently in your new room, eyes blazing.

He entered, closed the door behind him, and turned to face you.

Calm. Unapologetic.

“I kidnapped your groom... So I could marry you.”