In a bustling city where cynicism reigns supreme, Virendra is a man who scoffs at love and harbors a deep-seated distrust towards women. His world is meticulously controlled, until the day he meets Riddhi Mirasdar.
Riddhi, a resilient and compassion...
He stepped closer, and before I could react, he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into his arms. His grip was firm yet gentle, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race. "They hurt you. They deserved to die," he said, his voice soft but menacing. I struggled, but his hold was unyielding. "No, please," I begged, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.
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We drove in silence, the fear and shock rendering me speechless. After what felt like an eternity, we arrived at a secluded mansion. I was carried inside and quickly surrounded by women who started dressing me in traditional bridal attire. My mind was spinning. This couldn't be happening. I tried to resist, but it was futile.
The women dressed me in a stunning red lehenga, adorned with intricate gold embroidery. The fabric was rich and heavy, making me look like a princess. They applied makeup, enhancing my natural beauty. As I glanced in the mirror, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful I looked, despite the tears streaming down my face. The lehenga's brilliance only made my situation feel more surreal and twisted.
I was taken to a small temple within the mansion grounds. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the sound of chanting. I was forced to sit beside Virendra, who was now dressed as a groom. The rituals began, and I felt like I was in a nightmare.
Virendra: "You look exquisite, Riddhi. A perfect match for me."
Riddhi: "This isn't real. You can't force me into this."
Virendra: "Oh, but I can. And I will."
The priests chanted, and the fire burned brightly. Virendra's men stood around, ensuring I couldn't escape. I felt the weight of the mangalsutra as it was tied around my neck and the cold metal of the sindoor as it touched my forehead. Virendra leaned in close, our eyes locking. His gaze was intense, almost possessive. As he applied the sindoor, a small amount fell onto my nose.
"You're mine now, Riddhi. Forever," he whispered, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as he tied the mangalsutra around my neck. The moment it touched my skin, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. The reality of my situation hit me like a tidal wave. Virendra noticed my tears and leaned in, his expression hardening.
Virendra: "You'll soon see, Riddhi. I'm not a man to be crossed."
Riddhi: "I won't let you do this!"
Virendra: "You have no choice now. You're mine."
"This is the first and last time you will shed your tears after becoming my wife," he said, his voice commanding. "From now on, you will only know happiness. I will make sure of it."
I stared at him, my heart pounding. His words were both a promise and a threat. The final rituals were completed, and I was now his wife. My dreams were shattered, replaced by this horrifying reality.
As we stood up, he pulled me close, his grip firm but not painful. "You will learn to love me, Riddhi. I will give you everything you desire, but you will also learn to obey me. You are mine, and I take care of what is mine."
