Mafia's Revenge Or Love? ~ A Saga Of Love And Revenge

Chapter 1

The sound of heavy rain echoed throughout the state in the dead of night, a symphony of thunder and raindrops that masked the stillness of the world. In the middle of the desert, an ancient temple of Mahadev stood tall, defying the storm. The wind whipped around its towering spires, making the temple bells ring with a haunting, melodic rhythm that blended with the rain’s relentless patter.

Inside the temple, amidst the chaos of the storm, a group of people gathered, their faces etched with worry and tension. The soft chanting of the pandit ji filled the air, his voice merging with the bell’s chimes to create a surreal, almost otherworldly atmosphere. All eyes were focused on two figures sitting near the Havan Kund, their expressions starkly contrasting each other.

**Vihaan Singhania**, the second heir of the Singhania Empire and a renowned criminal lawyer with a dark side, sat with an impassive face, his cold eyes fixed on the burning fire before him. Despite his sharp features and striking appearance, his aura was one of detachment and indifference. His hatred for the woman next to him was palpable, yet he refused to even glance her way. Vihaan, who had always shied away from relationships, found himself bound in an unwanted marriage, a pawn in a game of power and revenge.

Beside him sat **Darshana Pillai**, soon to be Darshana Vihaan Singhania, the second heir of the Pillai Empire. A kind and gentle soul, Darshana was known for her sweet disposition and her loving nature. She was the antithesis of Vihaan, a light in the darkness, now forced into a union with a man who despised her. She sat silently, her face hidden beneath a heavy veil, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she contemplated the harsh reality of her fate.

The temple was filled with murmurs and hushed conversations, the tension between the two families evident in every whispered word. Darshana’s family, particularly her father, **Subhash Pillai**, and her mother, **Sita Subhash Pillai**, were at the centre of the storm. Subhash, a man whose age had etched deep lines into his face, stood with a proud, cruel expression. His eyes shone with a ruthless determination, a reflection of the man’s harsh nature. He was the mastermind behind this forced marriage, using his daughter as a pawn to secure a business deal, indifferent to her suffering.

Sita, on the other hand, was the embodiment of grace and gentleness. Draped in a bright blue Banarasi saree with intricate golden embroidery, she wore her anguish openly, her eyes filled with tears as she watched her daughter’s life being decided before her. “You didn’t do right at all, Subhash,” she said, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. “How can you do this to your own daughter? She has never gone against your orders, and now you are taking advantage of her loyalty. Just wait until Natasha arrives; you will have to answer for this, Subhash Pillai.”

Subhash smirked, his eyes gleaming with cold satisfaction. “If your daughter is getting married, there is a valid reason for it, and that reason is none other than money. She knows how much this marriage will affect our business,” he replied, his tone dismissive and unyielding.

Sita’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. She could hardly comprehend the words coming from her husband’s mouth. This was not the man she had married. Or perhaps he was, and she had simply been blind to his true nature all these years.

Amidst the whispers and murmurs, Darshana’s grandfather, **Manoj Pillai**, a man of few words, spoke up. “I don’t know what sin I have committed to have a son like you, Subhash. First, you ruined my daughter-in-law’s life, and now you are ruining my granddaughter’s life too,” he said, his voice thick with hatred and sorrow.

Subhash sneered, stepping closer to Manoj with a malicious grin. “Oh, Papa, we all know what sin you did. If you want me to remind you, just think back to what happened 24 years ago,” he taunted, his words laced with venom.

Standing beside Manoj, his second son **Anand Pillai**, Darshana’s uncle, intervened, placing a comforting hand on his father’s shoulder. “Brother, you should never bring up this topic, and Papa, please calm down,” Anand urged, his voice soft and soothing.

“Oh my God,” cried **Aishwarya Anand Pillai**, Darshana’s aunt, her voice trembling with fear and anxiety. “What is happening to our family now? First, we lost the tender, and now a forced marriage for business. I am sure, Papa, someone has cast an evil eye on our family.”

Anand quickly signalled her to be quiet, his eyes pleading with her to keep her composure in such a tense moment. Meanwhile, two young members of the family, **Shivanya Pillai** and **Rudra Pillai**, watched the unfolding drama with a mix of fear and sadness.

Shivanya, a bubbly 20-year-old with a round face, big eyes, and short hair that barely touched her shoulders, whispered, “No one knows how sad Didi is, and I am surprised that Badi Didi hasn’t arrived yet. That’s the only reason this place is so calm.”

Rudra, Darshana’s 21-year-old brother, a tall, handsome young man with a well-built body and an oval face, smirked. “Maybe this is the peace before the arrival of a tsunami. Papa will be doomed today for sure,” he murmured, his voice tinged with dark humour.

Just then, the pandit ji’s voice rose above the whispers, putting an end to the current mess. “Call the girl’s parents for Kanyadanam,” he instructed solemnly. Subhash and Sita stepped forward, their faces a stark contrast of pride and pain.

After the Kanyadanam, the pandit ji continued, “Now let the groom and bride stand for the saat pheras.”

Darshana rose slowly, her movements hesitant and shaky, followed by Vihaan, who remained stoic and cold. They circled the sacred fire seven times, their steps heavy with the weight of their forced union, before sitting back down.

“Now, wear the mangalsutra around the bride’s neck,” the pandit ji instructed. Vihaan, his face devoid of emotion, took the mangalsutra from the plate and roughly placed it around Darshana’s neck. His nails accidentally pierced her skin, causing her to flinch in pain, though she made no sound.

“Now, fill vermillion in the bride’s hair parting,” the pandit ji continued. Vihaan took a pinch of the red powder and harshly applied it to Darshana’s parting, marking the final step of their marriage.

“The marriage is now complete. You are officially husband and wife,” the pandit ji announced.

Without a word, Vihaan stood up, signalling one of his men. A burly guard approached with a suitcase, handing it over to Vihaan. Walking up to Subhash, Vihaan thrust the suitcase into his hands. “From now on, all your connections with her should end here,” he warned, his voice icy and unyielding.

Subhash, smiling with satisfaction, nodded. “Sure,” he agreed, clutching the suitcase greedily.

Suddenly, Rudra’s voice cut through the tension, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Here comes the tsunami,” he said with a smirk, drawing everyone’s attention to the entrance of the temple.

A sleek, black luxury car screeched to a halt outside the temple, its door flying open to reveal a striking figure stepping out. Her eyes blazing with fury, **Natasha Pillai**, Darshana’s elder sister and the formidable CEO of PV Groups, stormed towards the temple. Her voice rang out, echoing off the ancient walls as she marched in, “SUBHASH PILLAI!”

Her arrival marked the beginning of a new storm, one that threatened to upend the fragile peace that had settled over the temple. As Natasha strode forward, her expression a mix of rage and determination, the true battle for the Pillai and Singhania families was just beginning. The question remained—was this a fight for revenge or a fight for love?

TO BE CONTINUED...

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