Meera’s POV
The heavy silence in the Mishra household was broken only by the soft ticking of the old wall clock. Meera sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa, her palms sweating as her father’s words still echoed in her ears. Marriage. To Raghav Thakur. The very idea was absurd, terrifying even.
“Raghavji, please… understand our situation,” her father continued, desperation thick in his voice. “We’ll give you Meera as your wife, and in return, the loan… it will be forgiven.”
Meera couldn’t bring herself to meet Raghav’s gaze, but she could feel the intensity of his eyes on her. Her stomach churned with a mixture of fear and anger.
“I’m not something you can barter, Papa,” she muttered under her breath, her voice cracking. But her words went unheard, drowned out by the suffocating sense of inevitability that hung over them.
Finally, Raghav spoke, his voice smooth and icy. “I accept your offer,” he said, his words final. “But remember, once she becomes my wife, she belongs to me. Completely.”
