Scene: Lavish Wedding Hall | Night | Mumbai

Lavender petals fluttered through the air like whispers of forgotten promises.

Bride: “Why does this feel like a dream I never dared to imagine?”

Nevaeh Raichand stood at the entrance of the grand wedding hall, her heart pounding in sync with the dhol beats echoing through the luxurious space. Dressed in a crimson lehenga, heavy with intricate gold embroidery and jewels gifted by a man she hadn’t even seen, she looked every bit like a bride from a fairytale… except this wasn’t hers. Not really.

She hadn’t met the groom. Not once. Not even a name—only a contract.

All she knew was: he was a billionaire CEO, connected to her father’s old business circle, and marrying him would save her family from ruin.

Cold. Mysterious. Untouchable.

That’s what the whispers said about him.

Her mother tugged her hand, eyes wet behind her makeup. “You’re going to be safe, Nevaeh. He’s powerful. He’ll protect you.”

Safe. Was that love?

She had once known love. As a child. A boy with stormy eyes and a broken arm who’d protected her during a fire. His name still lived in her memory like a sacred prayer.

But this man—this groom—was a stranger.

Nevaeh: “What kind of man marries a woman without showing his face?”

The rituals began. She walked down the aisle, surrounded by murmurs and flashes of camera lights. But her eyes scanned the mandap for him.

And there he was.

Seated rigidly at the mandap, face completely veiled in a designer sherwani hood, like some regal ghost from another realm. His hands were gloved. No skin exposed. His posture screamed power, but also something darker… detached. Almost angry.

Her throat dried. She sat beside him, trembling.

The priest chanted. Holy fire crackled. The groom didn’t speak—not until the time came to tie the mangalsutra.

Only then did he lean slightly toward her.

His voice was deep. Disguised. Almost… hollow.

Groom: “Don’t ask who I am. Not yet.”

Nevaeh blinked.

Groom: “We are married by contract. That’s all this is. Don’t expect a fairytale, Mrs. Caspian.”

Caspian.

Her heart skipped. The name sounded familiar… but why?

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

The mangalsutra was tied. The sindoor touched her forehead.

It was done.

The applause around them rang hollow in her ears. All she could feel was that deep voice, slicing through her heart like a blade.

Mrs. Caspian.

A bride to a man she couldn’t see… but felt something strange for. Something old. Almost familiar.

Later That Night – In His Mansion

She was brought into a dark, marbled room—far too silent to be welcoming. He stood at the window, back to her.

Nevaeh: “Are you going to look at me?”

He didn’t turn.

Groom: “No.”

Nevaeh: “Why? Are you… ashamed?”

Groom: “I’m protecting you.”

Nevaeh: “From what?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he opened a drawer and slid a small box across the table.

Groom: “Your room is down the hall. We won’t share one.”

Nevaeh picked up the box. Inside was a single silver key… and a photo.

Her photo. A little girl—her—holding a boy’s hand in front of a burning orphanage.

Nevaeh: No… it can’t be…

Groom: “Goodnight, Nevaeh.”

He walked away. But her hands were trembling.

That boy in the photo. That fire. Those eyes.

It was him.

The boy she’d once loved.

The boy who had disappeared.

The masked groom was no stranger.

He was her first love.

But why was he hiding now?

Scene: Caspian Mansion | Nevaeh’s Room | Night

Nevaeh sat on the edge of the massive bed in her new room, her fingers trembling as she stared at the old photograph in her hand.

Two children.

One with bright eyes and pigtails—her.

The other… a boy with stormy eyes, a scraped knee, and a protective grip on her wrist—him.

The boy who pulled her from a burning orphanage when she was just nine.

Nevaeh: “Arsalan…”

His name slipped from her lips like a ghost, barely louder than a breath.

It couldn’t be.

The man she just married… Mr. Caspian… had the same eyes. The same silent fire.

But why was he hiding behind a mask and a different name?

She pressed the photo to her heart.

He was her first love.

Her protector.

The one who vanished when her world caught fire—literally.

Scene: Caspian’s Office | Moments Later

She found him standing alone, looking out of the floor-length window into the darkness.

He didn’t turn when she entered. Again.

Nevaeh: “Is it really you?”

Silence. Heavy. Sharp.

Then, finally, his voice—quiet, hard.

Artemis: “You weren’t supposed to remember.”

Nevaeh stepped forward, slowly, clutching the photo.

Nevaeh: “Why did you leave me back then?”

He turned this time.

Just a little. Enough for the shadows to reveal the pain buried deep in his eyes.

Artemis: “I didn’t leave. I was taken.”

Nevaeh’s breath hitched.

Artemis (coldly): “After the fire, I lost everything. My name. My identity. My mother. My childhood. I didn’t even know you were alive… until I saw your name on that damn marriage contract.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, heart breaking.

Nevaeh: “So why didn’t you tell me?”

He turned away again.

Artemis: “Because the boy you remember died that night.”

Nevaeh: “That’s not true—he’s right in front of me.”

Artemis: “No.”

His voice broke slightly, but his walls stayed up.

Artemis: “The man in front of you is your husband by contract. A CEO with a dangerous name. A monster raised by shadows. And someone who can’t afford to love you.”

Nevaeh: “But I still love you.”

That stopped him.

Her voice was steady now, even though her heart was breaking all over again.

Nevaeh: “I loved that boy with the broken arm who told me not to cry. And even now… even though you’re cold, cruel, and hiding behind a mask… I still see him in your eyes.”

His fists clenched. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Nevaeh: “If you want me to forget, I won’t. I waited once. I can wait again.”

She turned and left, not waiting for his reply.

Later That Night – Artemis’s Private Room

He sat alone in the dark, that same photograph in his hands now.

He whispered, just once:

Artemis: “I never stopped loving you either, Nevaeh.”

But the war in his world wouldn’t let him love.

Not yet.

Scene: Caspian Mansion | Morning | Dining Hall

Sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows, casting soft golden rays over the sleek,

modern breakfast table. It looked like something from a lifestyle magazine—perfect,

polished, and cold.

Just like him.

Nevaeh sat at one end of the long table, nervously stirring her untouched tea. She wore a

soft cream robe and minimal jewelry, a far cry from the heavy bridal look of last night. She

looked young, delicate—out of place in this mansion made of stone, glass, and silence.

The air shifted.

He entered.

Artemis Caspian. The man with a name more feared than respected in the corporate world.

Billionaire CEO. Ruthless in boardrooms. Untouchable in life.

And now… her husband.

Still in his black suit, he looked sharp. Controlled. But she noticed the faint scar on his

jawline. Barely visible. Just like his emotions.

Nevaeh: “Good morning…”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he sat across from her, his eyes scanning her face once—brief,

intense, unreadable.

Nevaeh bit her lip. “I… I wanted to thank you. For last night. You could’ve just walked away

after the wedding ceremony, but—”

Artemis (flatly): “There’s no need for thanks.”

Nevaeh: “Still, I—”

Artemis: “This marriage has rules. Stick to them.”

She blinked.

Artemis: “Rule one: Do not enter my study or private quarters. Ever.

Rule two: We will maintain separate rooms.

Rule three: No questions about my past.

And rule four…”

His voice dropped slightly—low and almost possessive.

“…Don’t get too close.”

Nevaeh looked away, her heart aching. “What if I break the rules?”

He smirked—cold, dark, dangerous. “Then I’ll remind you why they exist.”

Her tea turned bitter in her mouth.

Scene: Later | Mansion Library

Nevaeh wandered the endless halls, trying to understand the man she was married to. Every

corner of the mansion held secrets. But the library—lined with dusty books and faded

memories—felt like a space that had once been lived in… before the ice took over.

A small photo frame caught her eye on the top shelf.

She pulled it down.

It was cracked. The photo old.

Two boys. One older. One younger. Both bruised, yet smiling. Holding hands.

There was handwriting on the back:

Artemis & A— (the rest was smudged).

She frowned.

Nevaeh: He had a brother?

Scene: Artemis’s Office | Nightfall

“You’re already breaking rules,” Artemis said as she stepped inside.

Nevaeh: “You didn’t lock the door.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Nevaeh: “I found a photo. You… had a brother, didn’t you?”

His face turned to stone.

Artemis: “That’s none of your concern.”

Nevaeh: “You’re my husband. Your life is my concern.”

Artemis stood abruptly, slamming his glass onto the desk. “Don’t try to get close to me,

Nevaeh! I’m not the boy you remember. That boy died the night everything burned!”

Her eyes welled up, but she didn’t flinch.

Nevaeh: “Then let me meet the man who rose from the ashes.”

He froze.

Nevaeh’s voice was soft now, barely a whisper.

“I don’t care how broken you are, Artemis. I just want the truth.”

For the first time, his cold demeanor cracked.

Just slightly.

He stepped toward her, his voice low and dangerous. “If I give you the truth… it will destroy

you.”

Nevaeh looked up at him, undeterred. “Then let it. But at least don’t lie to me behind that

mask.”

His hand reached out—hovered near her face—then pulled back, clenched into a fist.

Artemis: “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Nevaeh: “Then show me.”

Their eyes locked—pain, desire, unspoken promises and broken ones.

The air between them burned with tension.

But he turned away again, walking into the shadows.

Artemis: “Go to your room, Nevaeh. Before I forget to be gentle.”

Scene: Nevaeh’s Room | Midnight

She couldn’t sleep.

The photo lay on her pillow. The same eyes. The same smile. Artemis had once known love.

Family. Joy.

What happened to turn that boy into a masked man?

She placed the photo beside her, pulled the sheets over herself, and whispered:

Nevaeh: “I’ll bring you back… Artemis. Even if you push me away every time.”

Outside her door, unnoticed, he stood in the dark hallway.

Listening.

Protecting.

But not ready to love.