Chapter 22
Anvi’s breath hitched.
Agastya’s words hung between them, heavy, unshakable.
"Because I never looked at her the way I look at you."
She should have felt victorious.
Should have felt relieved.
But all she felt was rage. Confusion. Betrayal.
Because this wasn’t just about who came first.
This was about who had the power to destroy him.
And from the way his fingers curled around her wrist, holding her back—
She knew.
It had never been Niharika.
It had always been her.
And that?
That was more dangerous than anything.
---
Anvi tried to yank her wrist free. "Let me go, Agastya."
His grip only tightened.
His jaw locked.
His eyes burned.
"No." His voice was low, rough, borderline unhinged.
Her stomach twisted. "You don’t own me."
A slow, wicked smirk curled on his lips.
"That’s where you’re wrong, Pari. I do."
Before she could snap back, he moved.
One second, she was standing in the hallway.
The next—she was pressed against the wall, caged between his arms.
His heat surrounded her.
His scent consumed her.
Her pulse pounded against her skin.
And then—his lips brushed against her ear.
Soft. Testing. Possessive.
"You can run all you want, jaan. You can hate me. Fight me. But you’re already mine."
Her breath hitched.
"And the sooner you accept that… the easier this will be."
Her fingers curled into fists.
"You’re sick."
He let out a low, dark chuckle.
"Maybe. But you still kissed me back, Pari."
Her stomach dropped.
She hated him.
She hated him.
Then why was her body betraying her?
---
She shoved against his chest. "You don’t get to control me, Agastya."
His lips curled.
"Then tell me why you haven’t left yet."
Her throat went dry.
Because the truth?
She didn’t know.
And he knew it too.
His fingers brushed against her throat, tracing the faint red marks left by his grip earlier.
A silent reminder.
A silent claim.
"You want to hate me, Pari." His voice was a whisper against her skin.
"But you can’t."
She clenched her jaw.
"Watch me."
And then—she did the only thing she could.
She grabbed the mangalsutra from the bedside table—
And snapped it.
The beads scattered onto the floor.
The room went silent.
And when she looked up—
She saw it.
The moment his obsession turned deadly.
---
Agastya’s body went still.
His jaw locked.
His fingers twitched.
And then—he laughed.
Low. Dark. Unhinged.
"You really want to test me, don’t you?" His voice was deadly soft.
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on. "I’m not afraid of you, Agastya."
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
And then—he moved.
Faster than she could process.
Before she could step back, his hands gripped her waist, lifting her onto the bed, pinning her beneath him.
Her breath caught.
Her heartbeat slammed against her ribs.
His hands gripped her wrists, holding them above her head, his body pressed against hers.
She struggled.
"Let me go."
His grip didn’t loosen.
"Never."
Her body betrayed her.
Because despite her rage, she felt it.
The heat.
The tension.
The ache.
And Agastya?
He saw it too.
His lips brushed against her jaw, slow, testing, teasing.
A silent warning.
"You want me to stop, Pari?" His breath was warm against her ear. "Then say it. Say you don’t want this. Say you don’t want me."
She opened her mouth—
But the words never came.
Because the truth?
She did want him.
And that was her biggest mistake.
---
Just as he leaned in, just as the tension snapped—
A voice shattered the moment.
"Well, that didn’t take long."
They both froze.
Agastya’s head snapped toward the door.
And there—standing in the doorway, smirking—was Niharika.
Her arms were crossed, amusement flickering in her gaze.
"I guess some things never change, do they, Hukum?"
Anvi’s stomach twisted.
Because the way she said it—the way she looked at them—
Like she had seen this exact moment before.
Like she had once been in Anvi’s place.
And suddenly, she realized—
She didn’t know who the real enemy was anymore.
---
A Past That Refused to Stay Buried
The room was suffocating.
Anvi was still pinned beneath Agastya, her wrists locked in his grip, her breath ragged from a battle she wasn’t sure she had won.
And standing in the doorway—smirking like she owned the place—was Niharika.
Her maroon saree clung to her like a second skin, her long fingers tapping against the wooden doorframe, amusement dancing in her sharp eyes.
Like she had seen this exact moment before.
Like she knew what came next.
And that?
That made Anvi’s stomach twist.
Because suddenly, she wasn’t just fighting Agastya anymore.
She was fighting a ghost from his past.
A past that wasn’t as dead as she thought.
---
Agastya’s body was stiff, his grip still firm on her wrists.
He didn’t look at Niharika.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
But Anvi?
She felt everything.
The tension.
The rage.
The undeniable shift in power.
Niharika tilted her head, smirking.
"Well, this is familiar." Her voice was smooth, teasing. "Hukum always did have a habit of pinning women to walls, didn’t he?"
Anvi went still.
Her stomach dropped.
And Agastya?
His grip on her wrists tightened.
"Leave." His voice was sharp, deadly.
But Niharika?
She just laughed.
"Why so tense, Agastya? Don’t tell me you haven’t told your little wife the truth?"
Anvi’s heart pounded.
She turned to Agastya, her voice low. "What is she talking about?"
Silence.
His jaw clenched.
His eyes darkened.
And suddenly—she knew.
This wasn’t just about the past.
This was about her.
About the reason she was here.
And she was done being in the dark.
---
Anvi shoved at his chest.
Hard.
Agastya let her go just enough for her to sit up, but his body still hovered close, still caging her in.
She turned to Niharika, her breath uneven. "Tell me."
Agastya’s jaw locked.
"Don’t." His voice was a warning.
But Niharika?
She was enjoying this.
"Oh, Agastya." She sighed dramatically, stepping inside. "Still trying to control everything, aren’t you?"
Then—she looked at Anvi.
"He didn’t just force this marriage because he wanted you, sweetheart."
Anvi’s blood ran cold.
Niharika’s lips curled.
"He did it… because he had no choice."
Silence.
A sharp, suffocating silence.
And then—Anvi turned to Agastya.
"What is she talking about?"
His jaw ticked.
"Nothing."
"Liar."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She knew that look.
That silence.
That hesitation.
It was the **same look he had when she asked him
___________________________________________
The air was suffocating.
Anvi could hear the pounding of her own heart, the blood rushing in her ears, the suffocating silence that followed Niharika’s words.
"He didn’t just force this marriage because he wanted you, sweetheart… He did it because he had no choice."
Anvi’s stomach twisted painfully.
She turned to Agastya, her breath uneven, her chest rising and falling too fast.
"What is she talking about?"
His jaw tightened.
His fingers twitched.
And then—he turned away.
Like the answer was something he couldn’t say out loud.
Like the truth was something that would ruin everything.
And that?
That was what terrified her the most.
---
"Agastya! Answer me!"
Her voice was sharp, raw, filled with something close to panic.
But he?
He just exhaled, his hands clenching into fists.
"It doesn’t matter."
Anvi’s breath caught.
"It matters to me!"
She grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn toward her.
"Did you force me into this marriage because you wanted me? Or because you had to?"
His silence was her answer.
Her fingers went cold.
Her stomach churned.
And then—she took a step back.
Shaking her head.
Breaking.
"You lied to me."
His jaw tightened. "It’s not a lie."
"It is!" Her voice cracked. "Because you let me believe this was about you and me, when all along… it was about something else."
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
His fists clenched.
And then—Niharika spoke again.
"Tell her, Hukum."
She tilted her head, smirking.
"Tell her why you married her. Tell her who gave the order."
Anvi froze.
Order?
Her blood turned to ice.
Slowly, she turned to Agastya.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Who forced you to marry me?"
Agastya’s hands curled into fists.
And then—he finally spoke.
His voice was low, rough with something close to defeat.
"Your father."
The world stopped.
Her body went still.
Her mind couldn’t process it.
And then—her knees buckled.
She had spent so much time fighting Agastya.
Hating him.
Blaming him for stealing her life.
But the truth?
The truth was far worse.
Because it wasn’t just Agastya.
It was her own blood.
Her own father.
And suddenly, she wasn’t just trapped in this marriage.
She was trapped in a game she never even knew she was playing.
And Agastya?
Agastya wasn’t just her captor.
He was her only way out.
---
Anvi didn’t know how she got to their bedroom.
Didn’t know how much time had passed.
All she knew was that her hands were still shaking.
That her world had just shattered.
And that she had never hated Agastya more than she did in this moment.
Because no matter how much she wanted to blame her father, Agastya had let her believe this was his choice.
That he had wanted her.
That this was about them.
But now?
Now, she didn’t know what was real anymore.
And that?
That was the worst betrayal of all.
---
The door swung open behind her.
She didn’t have to look.
Didn’t have to turn.
Because she knew.
She could feel him.
The air shifted.
The room felt too small.
And then—his voice broke the silence.
"Pari."
Her hands curled into fists.
Her chest tightened.
She turned.
Her voice was ice.
"Don’t call me that."
His jaw locked.
But he didn’t fight her.
Didn’t push.
Because he knew.
He knew he had broken something.
And now?
Now, there was nothing left to save.
---
"Tell me the truth."
Her voice was sharp, unsteady.
"Did you ever want me, Agastya? Or was I just another part of your business deals?"
His body tensed.
And then—he moved.
Faster than she expected.
One second, he was standing by the door.
The next—he was in front of her, his hand gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him.
His eyes burned.
"You think you’re just a deal to me?" His voice was low, rough. "You think I would go through all this trouble for a business arrangement?"
She swallowed hard.
"Then what am I, Agastya?"
His breath was uneven.
His fingers trembled slightly against her skin.
And then—he whispered.
"You’re my obsession."
Her pulse stopped.
And then—he kissed her.
Hard. Desperate. Unforgiving.
Like he was trying to erase the doubt, the anger, the betrayal.
Like he was trying to claim her all over again.
And the worst part?
She let him.
Because no matter how much she hated him, she wanted the truth.
And right now—his kiss was the only truth she had left.