"You know what, Aadya? You don't deserve someone like Ekansh. I mean, he is just so weird," Sanchit told her as she sat lost in her thoughts in the middle of the college cafeteria.

"Are you even listening to me, Aadya..." He stopped abruptly, feeling the shift in the air. Looking up, he saw the prince himself approaching their table.

Ekansh walked with his left hand casually tucked into his pocket while using the other to comb back his hair—looking effortlessly hotter and dangerous at the same time. His eyes scanned every movement in the cafeteria like a hawk. Girls watched him with outright adoration, while the boys simmered with jealousy over his looks and power.

Aadya remained so deeply lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice her dark prince arriving, let alone taking a seat right in front of her.

"Angel."

That single word pulled her back to reality. She looked at the man sitting across from her—the man she loved more than anything in this world, but whose suffocating, possessive ways she could no longer bear.

"I need to talk to you," she said in a mere whisper.

He nodded once.

"I will be waiting in my car," he said, standing up and turning to leave. She tracked his retreating back without blinking.

"What are you going to do?" Sanchit asked, genuine worry laced in his tone.

"The thing which is best for both of us," she replied softly before standing up to follow her love.

Stepping out of the college building, she spotted his black Rolls Royce Phantom waiting outside. She let out a quiet sigh, taking in the reality of his opulent lifestyle as she approached the vehicle. His chauffeur stepped forward and opened the door for her. She offered him a grateful smile, but the man maintained a completely blank face—likely terrified of his master.

She slipped into the seat beside Ekansh, who was currently occupied reviewing the latest stock price updates for his company.

"Are you busy?" she asked, longing for his attention.

"A bit... but never for you," he said, setting his iPad aside to look at her expectantly.

"Umm... Rana Sa, I wanted to say something," she began, her courage wavering, though she knew she couldn't stop now.

He gave her a slight nod, aware that something was deeply bugging his angel.

"Umm... please don't take me wrong, but..." She closed her eyes, a sharp pang of pain striking her heart. Forcing herself to gather every ounce of confidence left, she uttered the words she dreaded most.

"I want a breakup."

Opening her eyes, she was met with an unreadable, blank face. But his eyes betrayed the stillness—they were burning with a rage so intense it felt like he could incinerate the entire world. Terrified, she tried to pull back and escape the car, but he seized her hand in a crushing grip and yanked her toward him. Before she could react, she was lifted directly onto his lap. Looking up, she found his dark gaze locked onto hers.

"Marry me," he stated flatly.

She stared at him, stunned. "I just asked for a breakup."

"I agree with you. It's been long enough, so let's end this relationship and get married. I can't stay away from you any longer. I need to feel your naked body pressed against mine. I can't wait for you anymore," he said, the raw explicitness sending a flush of crimson to her cheeks.

"I would never marry you," she declared, struggling against his tight hold.

"Say that again," he warned, glaring down at her.

Determined to hurt him enough to push him away for good, she met his stare. "I would sleep with every other boy around before I ever marry you."

He clamped his hand tightly around her cheeks, his eyes blazing with fury. "You are mine. Do you hear me?" he roared, causing her to flinch violently in his arms. Fresh tears spilled over her lashes and streamed down her face.

"You will soon be mine. Do you hear that, Aadya? You will soon be Aadya Ekansh Pratap Singh. I thought I was giving you time, but your childishness is crossing every single limit!" he yelled, her sobs growing louder with every word.

Hearing her cry, he let out a heavy sigh and pulled her tightly against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. His angel was always far too sensitive to his harsh tone. He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, feeling the tension bleed out of him as her small hands slowly wrapped around him in return.

"Why do you always make me angry?" he asked, his voice softening into a gentle murmur.

"Your possessiveness scares me," she whispered into his chest.

What she didn't realize was that it wasn't mere possessiveness driving him—it was an all-consuming obsession. An obsession capable of burning down the entire world, yet never allowing a single hair on her head to be harmed.

It was written in her destiny to be the queen of this ruthless king.