"You aren't going anywhere."
This time he said a bit seriously. The sadness and guilt she felt in his eyes were long gone and again were filled with rage.
"I have already signed the papers. From today we both are free from this sinful marriage which...
जब शादी की कसम खाई जाती है, प्यार की आस तकरार में डूब जाती है। सपनों की चाह ज़बरदस्ती में बिखर जाती है, और दिल की धड़कनें इस रिश्ते में फँस जाती हैं। 🌷
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"FUCK, it better not be the marriage drama again." Vikrant left the dungeon not before instructing his mens to do their work.
Vikrant sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity. His jaw clenched, his eyes fixated on the road ahead, yet seeing nothing but a blur of rage. His breath came in ragged, heavy exhales, filling the confined space of the car with palpable tension.
The events of the earlier replayed in his mind like a broken record, each repetition stroking flames of his anger.
"Just like her.....how she was under my Boss while he had his way with he-" The mention of her from that motherf*cker, her blurred memories— all of it weighed heavily on his shoulders, suffocating him with frustration.
"Vikrant, I'll die please save me."
He slammed his fist against the dashboard, a primal yell escaping his lips. The car lurched forward as he pressed harder on the accelerator.
But no matter how fast he drove, he couldn't outrun his thoughts. They chased him relentlessly, taunting him with their reminders of failure and disappointment. His phone ringed.
"Ah, the valiant hero." The voice cut through the silence like a blade, laced with malice and contempt. "What a sight you are, standing amidst the wreckage of my men."
Vikrant's jaw clenched, his ear never wavering from the dark voice before him. He held the steering tightly.
Vikrant's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Cut the theatrics, mf. You've been hiding for too long, letting your men do the dirty work while you skulk in the shadows. It's time someone put an end to your cowardice."
The voice let out a dark chuckle. "Cowardice? Interesting choice of words coming from a man who cries for a girl."
Vikrant took a deep breath, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't hide. I face my enemies head-on, unlike you. You're nothing but a ghost, a whisper. Afraid to show your face, afraid to get your hands dirty."
The man's calm demeanor cracked slightly, a flicker of anger in his voice. "You think hiding is a sign of fear? It's strategy, Vikrant. You wouldn't understand."
"Strategy," Vikrant scoffed. "Call it what you want, but everyone knows the truth. You're scared. Scared of me, scared of losing everything you've built."
The Man let out a humorous laugh "At least, I have built but you...you have got it from your Ancestors. If it was not the Fucking Rathore behind your name than you would've never been The don."
