My Treacherous Marriage (Vahana Vamsathaar Series #3) - Published

Chapter 3

Marriage was never in the cards for me. I decided, at the ripe old age of 15, to never get married, for as long as I lived, for reasons too numerous to mention at the moment. But alas, here I am, a mere 14 years later, being forced to do the one thing I proclaimed to never do.

I was about to get married.

Not out of love. There will absolutely be no such concept of love in this marriage.

I'm marrying for money. The prospect doesn't scare me or make me uneasy. Getting married for money is fine. A simple business transaction of sorts. You get to please two families and society and in turn, I get money. Not a bad deal if you ask me.

What really bothers me is the man I'm supposed to marry. The insufferable, arrogant, asshole who tormented me as a child and continued to be a major pain in my ass as an adult. I hated him as much as he hated me. We were childhood rivals, then business rivals and soon to be a happy married couple. A happy murderous couple.

"Why did you agree to this?" my soon to be husband scowled at me.

I scoffed at his accusation.
"You think I want to do this? You think I haven't tried to stop this train wreck from happening? You're the last person on the planet that I would ever agree to marry, Vignesh!"

Vignesh raised an imperious brow at me and smirked.
"Like you're an absolute joy to be around, Little Miss Perfect," he mocked.

I rolled my eyes at him.
"Why don't you talk to your father about it? I heard he was the one who came up with this ridiculous plan in the first place," I asked him, tapping my foot in frustration.

His face darkened at the mention of his father and he glanced away.
"Appa is being difficult at the moment," he answered tightly like it explained everything.

"Did you piss your father off again by partying on a cruise ship and having the photos splashed across the Internet?Or was it an orgy at a nightclub this time?" I asked exasperatedly. Vignesh was a typical party boy.

"Do you wish you could've been there, Aanandhi? I know Miss Uptight doesn't get out much," he snarked with a lazy grin.

My nose scrunched up in disgust at his insinuation.
"I would never go out with a walking talking STD. Tell me, what did you fucking do to piss your father off?" I demanded.

"I'm surprised you even know what an STD is, my dear Aanandhi! STDs occur only in people who have sex, you know? How did a virginal flower such as yourself ever come across such a term?" he asked in a faux serious voice.

I rubbed my temples trying to stave off an impending headache. This is why I hated this guy. You couldn't have a straight conversation with him about anything.

"Stop derailing the conversation, Vicky!" I growled and he pursed his lips at the nickname. It never failed to garner such a response from him.

He crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.
"You want to know why Appa is so keen on this marriage? It isn't cause I'm goofing around. It is because I'm in a committed relationship with a woman he doesn't approve of," he said surprising me with a straightforward answer. The situation was too dire for anything else.

"Is this a caste issue?" I asked uneasily.

He gave a sharp nod in affirmation.

If I to explain his father's character, I would say he was one of those fanatical types that go about with their arms raised and ranting about caste superiority. They believed that one should marry only within one's own caste in order to preserve the purity of the bloodline or some rot. My parents couldn't care less about casteism. I felt teeny tiny twinge of empathy for the asshat. Not enough to express my sympathy but a tiny little inkling.