Destiny For Unlikely Vows

Chapter 12: Riya's POV

After lunch, we all headed to our hotel rooms to pack, as it was time to check out. As soon as I stepped into my room, Agastya slammed the door shut and grabbed my hand, pulling me close until I collided with his chest. For a brief moment, I saw something in his eyes, a glimmer of emotion, but it quickly hardened into anger.

I yanked my hand back, glaring at him. "What do you think you're doing? Leave me alone!"

He looked down at me with an icy gaze. "I'm not trying to keep you here, Riya," he sneered. "My time is far more valuable than this. I only want to make it clear: this arrangement is for one year, then you'll be free to go your own way, and I'll be on mine. I know a gold-digger like you would be relieved by that."

My eyes stung, but I wasn't about to let him see me cry. Who did he think he was? He was nothing to me. Instead, I lifted my chin defiantly and replied, "Fine by me."

A sour look crossed his face, and he muttered, "I knew you'd be eager to get rid of me." Was he serious? This man just told me he didn't want to have anything to do with me and that our so-called marriage would only last a year, yet now he was accusing me of wanting the same thing? Was he bipolar?

Without another word, he dropped my hand and ordered, "Start packing; we're heading to my home now." I didn't have much to pack, so I quickly gathered my jewelry and wedding attire, stuffing them into my bag. When I tried to drag it towards the door, he seized it from me.

"Excuse me, Mr. Rathore, I can manage my own bag," I snapped, annoyed.

He scowled at me. "So your family and mine can tell everyone how rude I am, leaving my wife to carry her own bags? Spare me, Riya."

"You don't have to pretend, Mr. Rathore. I can take care of myself, and my family knows it." I tried to tug my bag away, but he didn't budge an inch. The man seemed to be made of steel. With a smirk, he just stood there, holding my bag as if enjoying my frustration. My patience snapped-I stomped on his foot, loosening his grip just enough to snatch the bag away, then stormed out of the room.

I reached the hotel's reception area, where everyone was waiting. His grandparents glanced around, noticing I had my own bag in hand. His grandfather gently scolded, "Why are you carrying your own luggage, dear? Agastya should be handling that, or at least the staff can help."

I gave him a polite smile. "I appreciate the concern, Grandpa, but I prefer managing these things myself."

They smiled, nodding approvingly. "You're very down-to-earth."

After about ten minutes, Agastya appeared, face darkened by anger, and called for his drivers. My family came over, hugging me tightly as we said our goodbyes. I told my younger sister, Priya, to take care of herself and the family. I encouraged her to complete her graduation, promising she could come to Poland to live with me and pursue her MBA.

With teary eyes, my family blessed me as I prepared to leave with a man I barely understood. I had no idea how I'd tolerate him for even a year. But there I was, stepping towards a life I didn't ask for.

As I admired the Bentley Continental GT parked out front, Agastya leaned in close, whispering, "I know people like you can't even afford to look at cars like this."

Startled by his sudden closeness, I turned to him and replied coldly, "I'm not interested in you or your car." He shot a charming smile at both our families, who were watching from a distance, likely admiring how "in love" we looked. If only they knew the truth.

I waved one last time to my family, feeling a bittersweet ache in my chest. Just as I was about to get into the car, he grabbed me by the arm, pulling me into his lap as he closed the door behind us. I struggled to break free, but he only smirked.

"Consider this payback, my devilish queen, for stomping on my foot." His grip tightened as he held me there, despite my protests. My mind reeled with panic-what was he planning to do?

Before I could fully process, he leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek. Heat flooded my face. What was that?! He chuckled at my reaction, clearly amused by my flustered state.

"You... pervert!" I yelled, swatting at him in indignation. "Why did you kiss me?"

He caught my hands and gently pushed me down against the seat, hovering over me with an intense gaze. My saree's pallu had slipped, exposing a hint of my collarbone. His eyes roamed over me, a mischievous glint in them. "Are we being feisty now, my dear wife?"

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, despite my every effort to ignore him. He was handsome, annoyingly so, with his sleek hair, sharp jawline, and piercing gaze. My inner voice berated me-what was I doing, admiring him?

Snapping back to reality, I pushed him away.
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