Page 53 of Entangled Vows
And he had no idea what to do with her.
19
Vikram and Mahika finally stepped into the mansion. And because it was so late, there were no chatty staff to deal with, and no formal introductions to make. That all could wait until morning, when he had the patience for it. For now, he simply needed a moment to breathe.
The cool breeze from the windows carried with it the faint scent of sandalwood incense. The marble floors glowed warmly under the chandeliers, while the distant clatter of the surroundings slowly faded away. Now, it was just him, his brand-new wife, and the tiny menace she refused to leave behind.
“Welcome home.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the second they did, he wanted to kick himself. Perfect. Just what he needed… to sound like he actually cared about this whole arrangement. He huffed, fighting back a grimace, while Mahika looked at him silently.
Vikram walked her through the house, moving slowly and calmly, showing her the rooms he knew she’d seen before. But tonight, he was seeing his own house differently… through her eyes. Because now, this home belonged to her too.
They stood in the grand living room, where the high ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly above them, the gildedmoulding catching and reflecting the light in dazzling, colourful patterns. Plush, earth-toned sofas sat around a marble fireplace, while the soft glow of the recessed lights painted warm shadows across the polished floors.
At the heart of the mansion was a sweeping staircase, its carved wooden railings smooth beneath the hand as it led to the upper levels. Overhead, the chandelier cast a warm, golden light that reflected off the pristine surface of the steps.
“The study’s this way,” Vikram said, gesturing towards the dark mahogany doors on their left. He pushed them open to reveal shelves lined with books, files, and folders. A desk was tucked away in the corner. “I’m usually working here when I’m at home.”
Mahika nodded quietly, taking it in.
“Here’s the dining hall. All the formal dining happens here, though I usually prefer the sunroom for breakfast. You’re already familiar with the kitchen and the garden.”
As they reached the upper floor, Vikram gestured stiffly. “We renovated this section last year. The entertainment lounge is over there, and the library is through that arch. The gym is next to it.”
Mahika gave him an unimpressed look. “Grizzly, you do realise I’ve already been here, right? Like, a thousand times. I’m already familiar with the layout.”
Vikram stopped dead in his tracks and turned around with a scowl. “Yeah, I know exactly how often you’ve been here.”
“Why are you showing me around the house like I’m visiting for the first time?”
With every step closer, the faint mix of coffee and rose perfume curled around him until he almost forgot how to breathe. He drew in a breath and instantly regretted how much he wanted more. He closed his eyes briefly to compose himself, and then finally spoke.
“Because you’re not just Mahika anymore.” His tone was sharp, cold, and edged with jealousy that burned hotter than he intended. “You’re my fucking wife. You’re not Suraj’s shadow or his childhood sidekick anymore. Do me a favour and stop acting like this house is some damn stroll down the memory lane of your time with him.”
Her brows snapped together. “Excuse me?”
Vikram’s jaw tightened, rage rolling off him in waves. He stepped closer, close enough that his every word landed like a nail in the coffin. “Don’t you dare act clueless with me, Momo. I know about your little schoolgirl crush on Suraj, and the way you used to orbit around him like he hung the damn stars. But that’s done. Do you hear me? It’s done. This house, this life, this marriage… it’sreal, and it’sours. Yours and mine.”
Her breath hitched, but he didn’t stop. His eyes burned into hers with an intensity that was so much more than anger. “And I’ll make sure you never forget it. Every time you breathe in this space, you’ll know who you belong to now. Not to Suraj, not to the ghosts of yesterday, but to me.”
Mahika’s eyes snapped up to his, her wide with disbelief. “A crush on Suraj?” she said, her voice low and cutting.
A bitter laugh escaped her as she took a slow step forward, invading his space with quiet defiance. Then, with mock sympathy, she lifted her hand and gently patted his cheek, like he was some clueless, overgrown child.
“Oh, Vikram,” she murmured, her voice dripping with condescension. “Of all the delusions spinning in that brilliant head of yours, this one’s actually kind of adorable.”
His eyes darkened, and a spark of desire flickered to life at her touch. It only fuelled his frustration further. In one swift, instinctive move, his hand shot up and his fingers curled around her wrist in a tight, possessive grip. The air between them turned molten, the tension morphing into something far more dangerous.
“I know enough,” he said, his voice colder now. “I’m saying this again. Always remember that now… you’re married to me.”
“Next time you want to drag up my past in a fight, Vikram, at least make sure you’ve got the right man,” Mahika taunted, fury simmering beneath her voice.
He frowned and stepped closer, his eyes steady on hers. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove. But no matter what game you’re playing, you don’t get to act like the blushing best friend if my brother ever shows up. I won’t be the husband who looks like a third wheel in his own marriage.”
She scoffed, half amused, half livid. “So your brilliant solution is to go full-on dictator? Because God forbid you feel left out?”
“I’m just setting boundaries, sweetheart,” he bit out, his voice low and firm. “You think it’s normal to act like nothing’s changed when everything has? You’re my wife now. That means something. That comes with certain rules.”
Mahika’s tone dipped, laced with challenge. “And what if I don’t like your rules, husband?”
