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I sit in the back of the sleek car, the leather seat cold beneath me as Mrs. Mittal barks orders over her shoulder. The absence of Mr. Mittal, who is usually the first to push us into these events, feels like a glaring warning. His decision to stay behind only deepens the knot in my stomach. Something isn't right.
The luxury around me doesn't match the turmoil building inside. My brother sits beside his wife, silently watching as if detached from the storm that brews. The dress they forced me into clings uncomfortably to my skin—too tight, too revealing. Every seam of this outfit feels like a reminder of the cage I can never seem to escape. I pull at the hem of my dress, desperate to hide the parts of me I never wanted to display.
"Bhagwan ji, meri raksha karna. Aaj toh pata nahi kyun dil bohot ghabra raha hai." (Please God, protect me today. My heart is so heavy with unease.)
I glance out the window, the city lights blurring as we speed toward the party. The dread building inside me feels almost unbearable now.
"Hey, you ungrateful girl," Kavita Mittal sneers beside me, her nails digging into my wrist. The bite of her grip sends a sharp pain through my arm. "Behave yourself at this event, or else. There's a prominent family coming tonight, and they're interested in you for their son. Don't mess this up. We've made it clear—if all goes well, they'll take you away. You'd better smile and act like the perfect daughter-in-law."
Her words slice through me like daggers. I shrink back, biting down hard on my lip to hold in the tears threatening to spill. I don't want to go with them. I don't want to leave. I want to live my life on my terms, but that dream seems more distant than ever.
As the car comes to a halt, we arrive at the venue. Lavish and ostentatious, the sprawling estate glows under the night sky, the perfect backdrop for my unfolding nightmare.
