20 : You will be my wife

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— 𖤐 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :

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— 𖤐 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :

As the car started moving, that's when it hit me—the shock of Mr. Malik finding me caught me completely off guard, leaving me so stunned that I couldn't make sense of anything.

"No, no, no... please stop the car! I need to get out."  I stammer as my fingers desperately fumble to unlock the door of my side, only to find it locked.

I turn to face Mr. Malik, his expression cold and indifferent, his eyes piercing with an icy intensity, set on me with unwavering attention.

"Are you even listening, Mr. Malik? I'm telling you stop the car. I have to go." The urgency is very much evident in my voice.

"The car will not stop until we arrive at the banquet hall." He says calmly, his tone devoid of any emotion.

"No, no! I won't marry you. I can't do it. Let me go."

"We had an agreement, Mirha." He gritted out.

His jaw clenched tightly as if my words had deeply offended him.

"And I'm breaking that deal now. I can't marry you." His eyes darkens immediately.

"You can't back out, it was clearly stated in the contract you signed so blindly. The contract binds you to this agreement."

"You can't do this to me! I trusted you, you Asshole." I snap.

"I have already done it. Now, you will marry me and that's final." He states firmly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.

Panic tightens its grip around me. I turn to the door and try to open the pulled-up window on my side, but it's also locked.

I keep fumbling with the locks desperately, more like stupidly because no matter what I do, it won't open, and I know it, yet I can't stop myself right now.

My frantic attempts at the locks are completely futile.

"If you don't stop the car, I'll break the glass and then I'll scream for help and also shout that you are kidnapping me." I say, and he just blankly looks at me.

"I'm serious." I glare at him, met with his cold, unyielding gaze.

"Okay then." I begin pounding my fists on the unyielding window, my palms sting, yet I don't stop.

"The glass is tinted black and it's bulletproof."

I don't turn to look at him as I angle my whole body towards the door and pound my fists on the window, hard.

"Please, please stop the car." I yell to the driver by leaning forward, who looks at me with a tense expression from the rearview mirror.

One glare from Mr. Malik, and he ignores me completely, focusing on the road.

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