His Replaced Dhulhan || 18+ ✔

|33.|Your fault!

Kashvi's pov

"Where were you, Vansh?" I demanded, my voice stern and laced with a hint of betrayal. Vansh's eyes remained downcast, his gaze fixed on his hands clasped in his lap as he sat beside me on the bed. His voice was barely above a whisper as he replied, "I was in Italy."

My anger flared, a wildfire raging out of control. "And why?" I pressed on, my words tumbling out in a torrent of emotion. "You didn't even tell me anything. Didn't you think it would be nice to inform your wife where you were going? Did you even consider how I would feel, wondering if you were alive or dead?"

Vansh's silence was deafening, his stillness a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside me. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty, my mind consumed by the images Arman had shown me on his phone. The video of Vansh being shot, his body crumpling to the ground. The sight of him with another woman, her near-naked form draped across his lap like a cheap mantle.

My voice cracked as I continued, "And do you know what Arman showed me? A video of you, Vansh. A photographer of you with another woman. I'm so angry with you, Vansh. So angry. You better tell me everything. Every. Single. Thing." My words ended in a sob, my body shaking with the force of my emotions. Vansh's eyes finally met mine, his gaze filled with a deep sorrow, but I was beyond consolation.

"Your sister?" I repeated, my mind racing back to the memories of our conversations. "Yes, I remember," I said, my voice trembling as I fought to hold back tears. "You told me about her death, about the pain and the anger you felt."

Vansh's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense and pleading. "The mafia organization responsible for her death was in Italy," he explained, his voice low and husky. "I had to go there, to confront them and get the justice she deserved."

I felt a pang of understanding, mixed with a dash of skepticism. "And the picture?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "The one with the woman?"

Vansh's face contorted in a mixture of disgust and regret. "I had to tolerate her," he said, his words laced with a hint of shame. "She was the only lead I had, and I needed the information she possessed. But trust me, my love," he said, his voice filled with conviction, "I would never cheat on you. My heart belongs to you, and you alone."

As he spoke, he reached out and gently tucked a stray hair strand behind my ear, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I felt a wave of emotions wash over me, a mix of relief, anger, and love. I wanted to believe him, to trust him completely, but the doubts lingered, refusing to be extinguished.

"Tell me, what did Arman say about the divorce papers?" Vansh asked, his eyes burning with intensity as he took my hand in his. His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine.

"He told me to divorce you or else you'd be dead," I replied, my voice trembling as the memories flooded back. "He showed me a video of you being shot. Oh, Vansh, I was so scared. Are you okay now?"

Vansh's expression turned grim, his jaw clenched in anger. "Yes, I'm okay. I did get shot, but it wasn't Arman who did it." His voice dripped with venom. "And I'm well capable of killing him myself if I want to."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I knew he spoke the truth. Vansh was a man of his word, and he would stop at nothing to protect those he loved.

"That Arman is such a bastard for making my wife go through that," Vansh growled, his anger palpable. "I will not forgive him."

"Me too," I agreed, my voice barely above a whisper. "But you understand that I couldn't just put your life on the line, right?"

Vansh's expression softened, his eyes filling with understanding. "I understand," he said, his voice gentle. And with that, he pressed a soft kiss on my lips, his touch igniting a fire that burned away all doubts and fears. In that moment, I knew we were one again, united against all odds.

"Now what?" I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty, my eyes searching his for a glimpse of a plan.

Vansh's expression turned resolute, his jaw set in determination. "Now, you keep up the act," he said, his voice low and even. "The act of being under his control."

I nodded, knowing that Vansh had a plan, that he had thought this through. But I couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger, of hurt.

"You know, it's your fault," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "If you had told me you were going to Italy, then this wouldn't have happened."

Vansh's face fell, his eyes filling with regret. "I didn't want you to worry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I ended up making you worried anyway."

He opened his arms, and I stepped into them, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "You did, and I'm still mad at you for it," I said, my voice muffled against his chest.

But even as I said the words, I knew I couldn't stay mad at him. Not when he held me like this, not when he looked at me with such love and regret in his eyes. I knew that Vansh would do anything to protect me, to keep me safe. And I knew that I would do the same for him.

"I will spend my whole life making it up to you," Vansh whispered, his voice dripping with conviction and devotion. His eyes burned with a fierce determination, his gaze piercing my very soul.

As he spoke, his arms tightened around me, pulling me closer to his chest. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin, the gentle pressure of his lips against my forehead.

Every word he spoke was a promise, a vow to make amends for the pain he had caused. His voice was a gentle caress, soothing my hurt and calming my fears.

I felt my heart swell with emotion, my love for him overflowing like a river bursting its banks. I knew in that moment that I would never let him go, that I would hold onto him forever.

"Forever?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Forever," he replied, his voice firm and resolute. "I will spend every waking moment making it up to you, loving you, cherishing you. You are my everything, my reason for being."

As he spoke, his lips trailed a path of kisses down my cheek, my neck, my shoulder. Every touch was a promise, a declaration of his love.

I knew in that moment that I was home, that I was exactly where I was meant to be. In Vansh's arms, surrounded by his love, I was invincible.