Book #1 of psychopath series
She's soft for the one who deserves but for 𝖍𝖎𝖒 she's just his little psychotic wifey!
"you killed him? Seriously?"
"Yes darling, so what?"
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"I swear you'...
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I’m sitting in the mandap, chanting the sacred mantras. Everything feels like a blur right now. Not because I’m sad—far from it. In fact, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been. But everything has unfolded so quickly, so unexpectedly, that I’m struggling to grasp whether this is truly happening… or if I’m caught in a beautiful dream.
My thoughts came to a sudden halt when I heard the soft jingle of bangles.
I looked toward the entrance—and my breath hitched.
There she was.
Nandini.
Walking slowly, adorned in red and gold, glowing like a celestial being. No, scratch that. Even goddesses must feel envious of how divine she looks right now. How can someone look this ethereal? How is it even real?
She’s going to be mine. She’s really going to be mine?
Stop overthinking, Anirudh. This is happening. This is real.
She came and sat beside me. Our eyes met, and in that moment, it felt like the whole world had faded away. There was something in her eyes—calm, yet stormy, as if she too was lost in a whirlwind of emotions. But before I could read her further, the priest spoke up, calling us to begin the next ritual.
We followed each instruction with reverence. And then came the moment to exchange the garlands. The priest asked us to rise.
We stood up, our eyes locking once more.
God, these eyes. If something ever kills me, it’ll be those eyes.
She raised her hands and gently placed the garland around my neck, and I did the same, my fingers brushing against her delicate wrists. A thousand silent promises passed between us in that moment.
We sat back down, side by side—her scent, her presence, her aura wrapping around me like a whisper of fate.
The priest called for the kanyadaan.
I watched Mr. Rai rise, but before he could step forward, Nandini softly interrupted. Her voice was steady but firm.
“I want Bhai to do the kanyadaan,” she said.
No surprise there. I’ve seen how that man treats her. Cold. Condescending. Dismissive.
Rajvir stepped forward, his eyes softening as he performed the sacred ritual. It felt right. Honest. The bond between them, though unspoken, was filled with trust and love.
Next came the gathbandhan. Saisha stepped forward, a teasing smile on her face as she tied the knot—my shawl to Nandini’s dupatta. The sacred knot. The union of two souls.
And then, the phere.
We stood up together.
I gently took her hand in mine. Her fingers were cool, slightly trembling. Mine weren’t much better.
