Wicked Desires

chapter 24

What a chapter, right?  The tension is thicker than Don's smugness, and let's be real—he's the villain we love to hate! From Kriya's growing frustration to Reyansh's struggle to keep it all together, it feels like this engagement is spiraling faster than anyone expected. And let's not forget the added drama from Reyansh's father and his ever-so-charming new chick. Talk about a family reunion gone wrong!

I'm having so much fun writing these explosive dynamics, and I hope you're enjoying the twists and turns just as much. What do you think of Don's "helpful" contributions to the chaos? And how long do you think Kriya will hold out before she snaps for good? 

Don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments! Your feedback, theories, and reactions fuel my creativity and make this journey even more exciting. And if you're loving the drama, hit that vote button to show this chapter some love! 

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Kriya stared at her reflection in the mirror, her face pale and expressionless, as chaos buzzed around her. The boutique was alive with activity—assistants flitting back and forth, draping her in elaborate dresses and hoping to find the one for her engagement party. Or rather, the fake engagement party that had somehow turned horrifyingly real.

If this had happened a few years ago, she might've cried tears of joy, her heart soaring at the thought of standing beside Reyansh. But now? Her heart felt like lead, and her stomach churned with dread. She had been practically shoved out of the house by Don, along with Ana—the woman who had accompanied Reyansh's father, or "Master." Ana had dragged her to one of the city's most luxurious boutiques, a champagne flute in hand, and no intention of leaving until Kriya chose a dress.

The boutique assistants fussed over her, their hands adjusting every stitch and fold of a new, ridiculously expensive gown she didn't even care to notice. Kriya stood on the pedestal in yet another overly elaborate dress, feeling like a mannequin instead of a bride-to-be.

"Do you like anything yet?" Ana asked lazily from the couch, crossing her legs as she swirled the bubbly liquid in her flute.

Kriya sighed; her voice quiet but firm. "I just want to go home."

Ana raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Home? You're in the best boutique in the city, with access to Don's bottomless wallet, and you're sulking like this? Girl, you're the first bride-to-be I've seen who isn't even a little excited for her engagement!" She took another sip of her champagne, then smirked. "Relax, darling. Stop stressing about the price tags. Don's got enough money to buy every dress in here twice over."

Kriya clenched her fists, her eyes burning with unshed tears. This isn't about the money; she wanted to scream. But she stayed silent, her gaze returning to the mirror, where a stranger stared back at her in a dress she didn't even want.

Kriya's reflection blurred as tears threatened to spill, but she blinked them away quickly. The last thing she needed was for Ana or anyone else in the room to see her cry. She couldn't give them the satisfaction of thinking she was some weak, naïve girl overwhelmed by the glitz and glamour of it all. I'm not weak, she reminded herself. But at this moment, she felt like a pawn in a game she didn't even agree to play.

"Honestly, I don't know why you're so moody about this whole thing," Ana continued, her tone dripping with condescension. "Most girls would kill to be in your shoes. Look at you—drenched in designer gowns, champagne on tap, about to marry one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the country. Isn't that every girl's dream?"

Kriya snapped her head toward Ana, her voice laced with quiet defiance. "Is it? Because I don't remember anyone asking me what my dream was."

Ana raised her eyebrows, clearly caught off guard, but she quickly recovered, letting out a light laugh. "Oh, sweetheart, that's adorable. Your dream doesn't matter. What matters is that you'll be Reyansh Singhania's wife. Trust me, men like him don't ask—they take. And women like us? We adapt."