47.Calm Before The Storm

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The ballroom was a sprawling hall, glittering with golden lights and marbled floors. It should have been a place of celebration—a wedding filled with laughter, blessings, and smiles. But for Esha, it was the opposite.

As she descended the grand staircase in her bridal lehenga, she felt the weight of every step. The intricate red fabric, laced with gold thread, dragged behind her like a heavy chain. Her heart was pounding, her breath shallow, but her face—it was all a mask.

Her mother, walked by her side, her fingers trembling as they held Esha’s hand, her face pale with anxiety. Arjun, walked behind them, his expression stone-cold, his eyes flickering with tension. The tension was palpable—as if the very air in the room held its breath, waiting for the moment to snap.

And in the far corner of the room, there he was—Kanishk—waiting. His dark, predatory gaze was fixed on Esha, his lips curling into a satisfied, almost animalistic grin. He knew the moment was close. He knew she would be his.

But Esha—the woman who had once been a mere pawn in his game—was no longer the same. She had been broken, yes, but she was also reborn. As she looked at him, disgust bubbling up in her chest, she didn’t flinch. Instead, there was something different in her eyes now—a dangerous, calculating gleam.

Kanishk, though, didn’t see it. He thought he had won.

“Apsara...” he murmured to himself, a twisted lust in his eyes. “Finally, all of this is mine.”

But just as his gaze burned into her, Esha felt a sudden shift. It wasn’t fear she felt anymore. It was defiance. Pure defiance.

She glanced at him briefly, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sahi hai… shaadi toh hogi yahaan par meri. Tumhari toh band bajegi, beta.” The words were like a challenge—a warning.

And as her eyes flicked to the side, they locked onto someone.

The room was tense with anticipation. Just as Kanishk took another step towards her, something shocking happened. The doors to the hall slammed open with a loud bang. A group of six to seven men claded in black clothes ,ready with guns and other weapons strode in and in the middle of them ishaan —no fanfare, no announcement, just the raw force of his presence filling the room like a storm.

He was not dressed as a typical hero would be. There was no shiny suit or perfect hair. Instead, he wore dark, casual clothes that spoke of someone who lived in the shadows. His eyes—hard, intense, and calculating—locked on Esha immediately. And in that moment, she saw it—the silent promise that he was there to save her.

He wasn’t just a man. He was dangerous.

But Kanishk wasn’t intimidated. Not yet.

“Ishaan?” Kanishk sneered, his voice dripping with disbelief. “What is this? You think you can just walk in here and stop me?”

Ishaan took a step forward, his movements purposeful and deadly. His eyes didn’t leave Esha’s for a second—there was an understanding between them, something only they knew. She was his responsibility now.

“You’re not getting away with this, Kanishk,” Ishaan said, his voice low, filled with venom. His hand brushed the inside of his jacket, where a gun—silent and deadly—lay ready. But he didn’t take it out. Ishaan didn’t need weapons—he was the weapon.

Kanishk’s eyes darkened. “Ishaan, you’ve always been a thorn in my side, haven’t you?” His lips curled into a malevolent smile. “I’ll enjoy watching you burn.”

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