Destiny For Unlikely Vows

Chapter 8: The Shattered Night

The clock struck 3:00 AM by the time the priest announced that the marriage was complete. In the stillness of the early morning, Riya and Agastya stood side by side, their dupattas tied together in a symbolic knot, as they bowed for blessings from the elders. Flashbulbs clicked as they posed for photographs, but Riya felt no joy. Only dread.

This was no fairytale wedding.

They were led to the rooms by cousins and friends, all teasingly excited about the “first night.” But the excitement didn’t exist for the newlyweds. Silence stretched between them like a taut string about to snap. Both carried a storm inside—anger, resentment, and the heavy weight of their shared past.

As soon as they entered the dimly lit room and the others left, Agastya wasted no time. With a swift motion, he broke the cloth knot that symbolized their bond, a symbolic act of what he intended to do with their marriage.

Riya’s heart pounded as she watched him approach her, slow and calculated. Instinctively, she backed away until her legs hit the foot of the bed. As she stumbled, Agastya caught her. The closeness was sudden, overwhelming. She could feel the heat of his body, the tension in his grip. For a moment, something shifted in the air between them. He inhaled deeply, catching the soft scent of lavender in her hair. His mind faltered, his senses clouded. He leaned in as though compelled, close enough to kiss her. His hand gripped her waist tightly, his breath warm against her skin.

But then, reality crashed back into him.

**"She's not worth it,"** he thought bitterly. His grip tightened, and he pulled back, his face hardening.

**"Welcome to hell, my ugly Curie,"** he growled, his voice dripping with malice. **"You always had a crush on me, didn't you? You always wanted me. Is that why you trapped me into this marriage? What a clever little gold-digger you are."**

Riya's eyes widened in shock at his words. For a moment, she was speechless, stunned by his sudden attack. But she wasn’t a girl who easily cowered, even in the face of someone like Agastya. She gathered her courage, her voice calm but firm.

**"Mr. Rathore, if I had known I was marrying you, I would have chosen a local goon over you,"** she snapped back, her eyes flashing with defiance.

Agastya’s expression darkened for a moment. Her words hit a nerve, though he couldn’t understand why. Why did he care? He quickly masked the momentary crack in his armor with a cold, mocking laugh.

**"A goon?"** he sneered, gripping her waist even tighter, his face inches from hers. **"What goon would want an ugly girl like you? An uneducated, stupid girl like you."**

Riya’s body tensed at his cruel words, but she refused to show fear. She knew there was no point in arguing with him, no point in fighting. His mind was already poisoned with assumptions and lies. She remained silent, her face carefully neutral, though her heart was pounding inside her chest.

Agastya, in his bitterness, couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over her. Her defiance only seemed to fuel something dark within him. His gaze lingered on her face, her full lips, the softness of her skin. His eyes traced the curve of her collarbone, the faint hint of her cleavage visible beneath her bridal attire. His anger only intensified, confusing him, making him feel things he didn’t want to feel. He licked his lips unconsciously, his mind flashing back to rumors from their school days—rumors that she had many boyfriends, rumors that haunted him even now. His eyes darkened with jealousy and rage.

**"You disgust me,"** he spat, tightening his grip painfully. **"You're just like I always thought—a manipulative, gold-digging girl trying to use me to live a life of glamour. You probably couldn't wait to get your hands on my money. I know your type."**

Riya felt his words like a slap across the face, but she kept her composure. She knew nothing she said would change his mind. She was trapped, for now. So, she chose silence, refusing to feed into his poisonous assumptions.

Agastya’s anger only grew when she didn’t respond. He leaned closer, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

**"Don't expect anything from me, Riya. Not love, not kindness, nothing. You have one year—dig what you can, because after that, you’re out. You’ll sign the divorce papers, and don’t even think about claiming a single penny from me."**

His words were venomous, filled with cold cruelty. He finally released her, shoving her away with a dismissive gesture.

**"Now get the hell out of my sight,"** he snapped, turning his back to her as if she no longer existed.

Riya stumbled slightly but caught herself, her chest tight with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. Hurt, anger, humiliation—all tangled together in a painful knot. But she refused to cry, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Without another word, she turned and left the room, her heart heavy with the weight of this dark beginning. This was her reality now—a marriage bound by bitterness, contempt, and a past that threatened to destroy them both…

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