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For someone who has sworn off men, Mahira’s biggest nightmare is getting married to one. After all, she made a promise to her mother—one she intends to keep. But one thing leads to another, and with mistakes and misunderstandings piling up on her conscience, Mahira has no choice but to stand at the altar with him. She is supposed to be just a placeholder until the real bride comes back. That was the deal. Except he has made sure the real bride never returns, and before Mahira can realise the truth behind their sham of a marriage, she falls in love with him. With a stalker from the past determined to kill her and a husband she has grown to love but can’t trust anymore, Mahira stands at the crossroads of her life’s biggest test. Should she choose the promise she made to her mother, or the man whose love outweighs his lies? But there’s one thing she hasn’t realised yet— Despite the choice she makes, he isn’t letting her go.



If the world is stripped of its beauty, what remains? Men. That is how Mahira Trivedi sees it. They call her a misandrist. She despises the word. It feels flimsy, inadequate, and absolutely incapable of capturing the depth of her loathing. To her, men are intolerable, regardless of whatever redeeming qualities they might pretend to possess. She can no longer stomach their presence in her emotional space. And yet, she runs one of India’s leading security firms, dominant in both physical and cyber defense. You don’t climb to such heights while clinging to discrimination or bias, so compromises have to be made. Men exist in her world only where they are useful: the office. Nowhere else. Yuvaan Singh Chauhan refuses to grasp that simple truth. He barges in. He wants attention. He demands an apology. For what? She doesn’t even remember. But she knows one thing with absolute clarity; You can’t wrong men. You can only hate them. If he wants an apology, he’ll have to chase her to the ends of the earth, and even then, she will step aside just in time to let him plunge to his death. Good riddance, right?

For someone who has sworn off men, Mahira’s biggest nightmare is getting married to one. After all, she made a promise to her mother—one she intends to keep. But one thing leads to another, and with mistakes and misunderstandings piling up on her conscience, Mahira has no choice but to stand at the altar with him. She is supposed to be just a placeholder until the real bride comes back. That was the deal. Except he has made sure the real bride never returns, and before Mahira can realise the truth behind their sham of a marriage, she falls in love with him. With a stalker from the past determined to kill her and a husband she has grown to love but can’t trust anymore, Mahira stands at the crossroads of her life’s biggest test. Should she choose the promise she made to her mother, or the man whose love outweighs his lies? But there’s one thing she hasn’t realised yet— Despite the choice she makes, he isn’t letting her go.



If the world is stripped of its beauty, what remains? Men. That is how Mahira Trivedi sees it. They call her a misandrist. She despises the word. It feels flimsy, inadequate, and absolutely incapable of capturing the depth of her loathing. To her, men are intolerable, regardless of whatever redeeming qualities they might pretend to possess. She can no longer stomach their presence in her emotional space. And yet, she runs one of India’s leading security firms, dominant in both physical and cyber defense. You don’t climb to such heights while clinging to discrimination or bias, so compromises have to be made. Men exist in her world only where they are useful: the office. Nowhere else. Yuvaan Singh Chauhan refuses to grasp that simple truth. He barges in. He wants attention. He demands an apology. For what? She doesn’t even remember. But she knows one thing with absolute clarity; You can’t wrong men. You can only hate them. If he wants an apology, he’ll have to chase her to the ends of the earth, and even then, she will step aside just in time to let him plunge to his death. Good riddance, right?

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