CHAPTER 2
Alina and i made our way through the crowded hall before slipping in the small room where my parents were waiting .
the moment i stepped inside, I noticed the concern etched across their faces.
They looked confused
My father looked up.
"Why did you call us here ?"he asked.
the words lodged in my throat
i couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes.
instead i silently held out the folded note
my father frowned and took it.
My mother leaned over his shoulder to read
The moment her eyes landed on the words, tears filled them.
"Mom..."
I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around her.
The room fell into a heavy silence.
My father stared at the note for several seconds.
Then he slowly lowered it.
"She ran away."
It wasn't a question.
It was a fact.
I nodded.
My mother broke down completely.
While trying to comfort her, I glanced at my father.
He sank into a chair and pressed both hands against his temples.
My chest tightened.
Aarushi and I had never shared the kind of bond sisters were supposed to have.
We were different.
Distant.
But even then, she shouldn't have done this.
I watched my father in silence.
He was thinking.
Trying to find a solution.
Trying to find a way out of this disaster.
He would figure something out.
He always did.
Maybe he would call off the wedding.
A burst of laughter echoed from the hall outside, making my chest tighten.
The sound felt wrong.
As my mother cried against my shoulder, I gently rubbed soothing circles across her back, trying to calm her.
My father remained silent.
Lost in thought.
"He'll call off the wedding," I finally said.
The words sounded weak even to my own ears.
My father's head snapped up.
"We can't call off the wedding."
I froze.
"What?"
I looked at him in disbelief.
"Dad, then what are we supposed to do?" I asked. "Shouldn't we tell the groom the truth?"
"Tell the groom?"
His tired eyes met mine.
"Mahi, he is Aryan Rathore."
The way he said the name made my stomach twist.
"As if he would simply accept such disrespect."
Silence settled over the room once again.
My father lowered his gaze.
The note remained clenched in his hand.
"What have you done?" he whispered.
The words were directed at Aarushi, but they echoed through the entire room.
My chest tightened painfully.
Yes, Aarushi.
What have you done?
You weren't careless.
You weren't foolish.
You knew actions had consequences.
Then why would you leave us to face them alone?
I knew who Aryan Rathore was.
Mostly because Alina had spent months stalking him online and telling me things I never asked to know.
Not that I had paid much attention.
Why would I?
For two very simple reasons.
First, he was supposed to be my sister's husband.
Second, I barely had enough time to keep my own life together, let alone memorize details about a stranger.
I looked at my father.
"So what do we do now, Dad?"
His eyes met mine.
And suddenly, my stomach dropped.
The look on his face was painfully familiar.
No.
No, no, no.
Please don't say it.
Please don't even think it.
I knew that look.
It was the look he got whenever he had already made up his mind.
My pulse began to race.
Please let this be like my first thought about Aarushi running away.
Please let me be wrong.
My father stood up.
One step.
Then another.
Each step felt like a countdown.
I already knew what he was going to say.
And I hated that I knew.
"You have to marry Aryan."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
For a moment, I simply stared at him.
My mind went completely blank.
somehow the universe had decided that this was now my problem.
My eyes widened in shock.
Across the room, even my mother's sobs fell silent.
I stared at him in disbelief.
"Dad, no."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
"I won't marry him."
My father's expression softened.
He stepped closer and took my cold hands in his warm ones.
"Daughter," he said quietly, "for the sake of our reputation—"
I pulled back slightly.
"For the sake of your reputation?" I repeated.
"And what am I, Dad?"
My voice remained calm, but my chest felt painfully tight.
"A toy?"
"Someone you can hand over to another person whenever you want?"
Pain flashed across his face.
"Mahi—"
I shook my head.
For the first time that night, I forced myself to meet his eyes.
My father tightened his grip on my hands.
"Please," he whispered. "Not for our reputation."
His voice cracked.
"For me."
The room fell silent.
"Otherwise, we're doomed."
I gently freed my hands from his.
The desperation in his voice hurt.
Not enough to change my answer.
"I already said no, Dad."
I took a step back.
"I don't want to get married."
"Dad, I'm not going to marry someone because of another person's mistake."
My voice was steady, but my heart was pounding.
"What do you expect me to do?" my father asked, his voice rising.
The room grew tense.
I could feel the conversation slipping in a dangerous direction.
"Tell him the truth."
I crossed my arms over my chest.
"And if you can't say it, I will."
My father stared at me.
I took a deep breath.
"No, Dad. I won't marry a stranger."
The words came out stronger this time.
"I have a life."
I pointed at myself.
"I have goals. I have dreams."
A lump formed in my throat, but I forced myself to continue.
"I don't know about anyone else, but the person who matters most to me is Mahi Sharma."
For a second, my father froze.
For a second, my father froze.
The room fell silent.
"I am not marrying Aryan Rathore."
I shook my head.
"Whoever he is, whatever he is, I don't care."
My chest tightened.
I had plans.
Dreams.
A future I had spent years working for.
Dreams about my career.
Even dreams about my wedding.
And none of them looked like this.
I wasn't a piece on a chessboard.
I wasn't something people could move around whenever they were losing.
My father took a slow step back.
"Mahi," he said quietly, "you don't understand."
His voice sounded tired.
Broken.
"Aarushi ran away."
"I know."
"No."
He shook his head.
"You don't understand what that means."
Fear flickered across his face.
The sight made my stomach twist.
"If I tell Aryan Rathore the truth..." he whispered, "he can make us disappear in a minute."
"Dad, you're overthinking."
I shook my head.
"I save people for a living. And as far as I know, only God has the power to make people disappear."
The words left my mouth with more confidence than I actually felt.
My father stared at me.
Then I saw it.
Tears.
His eyes glistened under the light, threatening to spill over.
My heart dropped.
No.
Not this.
Anything but this.
"Please, Mahi."
His voice cracked.
The sound shattered something inside me.
"Dad..." I whispered.
My throat tightened.
"Why are you crying?"
Instead of answering, he stepped closer.
Closer than before.
Closer than a father should ever have to come when asking something of his daughter.
And then he did something that made my chest ache.
He begged.
"Please, Mahi."
His voice trembled.
"I am begging you."
The room fell silent.
"Please marry Aryan."
My stomach twisted painfully.
A sour taste filled my mouth.
I couldn't breathe.
My father was begging me.
My father.
The man who had always been strong.
The man who had solved every problem.
The man I had always looked up to.
And now he was standing in front of me, pleading.
I closed my eyes.
Aarushi.
What have you done?
For the first time that night, I wasn't angry.
I was tired.
So unbelievably tired.
I took a slow breath and squeezed my eyes shut.
The room fell into a suffocating silence.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
All I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own heart.
I didn't want to get married.
But I didn't want to see my father beg either.
I felt trapped between two choices, neither of which belonged to me.
God, please help me.
"Mahi, choose."
My mother's soft voice broke through the silence.
closed my eyes.
For a moment, I let myself imagine saying no.
Walking away.
Choosing my dreams.
Choosing myself.
But when I opened my eyes again, my father's tear-filled gaze was waiting for me.
And something inside me gave way.
"Okay."
The word came out barely above a whisper.
My father froze.
I took a shaky breath.
"Okay. I'll marry him."
The room went silent once more.
Then relief washed over my father's face.
Relief.
beneath it all, a trace of sadness.
As if he knew exactly what this decision had cost me.
He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"Thank you, Mahi," he whispered.
"Thank you so much."
forced a smile.
But it never reached my eyes.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
My sister's bridal lehenga draped around me like a life I had never chosen.
The deep red fabric shimmered beneath the lights, making my green eyes stand out even more.
Everyone would probably say I looked beautiful.
I didn't care.
My heart wasn't in it.
Ever since I was a little girl, I had imagined my wedding differently
Sky blue.
Baby pink.
Anything but this deep shade of red.
I let out a slow breath.
The woman staring back at me didn't feel like me anymore.
A soft knock broke through my thoughts.
Then came the sound of footsteps.
I turned around.
Alina stood by the door.
Her eyes were swollen and red from crying.
They're calling you downstairs," she said quietly.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
I tilted my head slightly and gave her a small smile.
"Alina."
My voice softened.
"I'm not dead."
A watery laugh escaped her.
"I'm just getting married."
That only seemed to make her eyes fill with more tears.
Finally, she looked at me.
"Mahi..."
Her voice broke.
"I'm going to miss you."
Something warm settled in my chest.
Despite everything that had happened tonight, that feeling remained.
I walked over and gently squeezed her hand.
"Darling," I said with a smile.
"You're still my best friend."
Alina took a shaky breath.
She knew me well enough to understand that if she cried again, I would break too.
So she smiled.
A fragile smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"Come on, bride."
The words were the same ones she had always wanted to say to me.
The problem was that neither of us had imagined saying them under these circumstances.
I nodded silently and followed her.
Together, we made our way downstairs.
The sounds of celebration grew louder with every step.
Laughter.
Music.
Congratulations.
Everyone looked happy.
I wished I felt the same.
Instead, an uncomfortable heaviness settled in my chest.
The closer I got to the mandap, the harder it became to breathe.
I was supposed to feel excited.
Nervous, maybe.
Not suffocated.
Not empty.
Not like I was walking toward someone else's future.
I reached the mandap and slowly lowered myself onto the seat beside the groom.
Aryan Rathore.
For a moment, I didn't look directly at him.
I simply became aware of him.
His presence.
The strange silence that seemed to follow him.
The weight of his attention.
The way people around him appeared careful.
Measured.
As if they were constantly aware of who he was.
A chill ran down my spine.
And before I could stop myself, a single thought formed in my mind.
He is dangerous.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Every ritual was completed perfectly.
Every prayer.
Every vow.
Every tradition.
And just like that, Mahi Sharma ceased to exist.
At least on paper.
Now I was Mahi Rathore.
The thought sat heavily in my chest as I followed Aryan toward the waiting car.
The ride to his mansion was painfully silent.
Not a single word was exchanged.
I could feel his presence beside me.
Heavy.
Intimidating.
The thick bridal veil covered my face, but somehow I could still feel his gaze.
As if he was trying to see through the layers of fabric.
The veil was so heavy it felt capable of snapping my neck.
I resisted the urge to pull it off.
Does he know?
The question refused to leave my mind.
Dad had promised me that Aryan's family had been informed.
But what if they hadn't?
Mahi, stop.
I took a slow breath.
Whatever happened next, I would deal with it.
The car eventually came to a stop.
The engine died.
I glanced outside.
A massive mansion stood before us.
Of course it was massive.
Nothing about Aryan Rathore seemed small.
I stepped out of the car and followed him toward the entrance
The moment I crossed the threshold, a sudden gust of wind swept through the hall.
Before I could react, my veil slipped.
The delicate fabric slid from my head as effortlessly as a feather.
And landed on the floor.
Silence.
Then—
Gasps.
Whispers.
Shock.
The entire hall erupted.
My stomach dropped.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze.
And found him staring at me.
Frozen.
For the first time, I truly saw Aryan Rathore.
A peach sherwani stretched across broad shoulders and a powerful frame.
Sharp jawline.
Tousled brown hair.
Dark eyes that seemed capable of cutting straight through a person.
Those eyes locked onto mine.
Those eyes locked onto mine.
For a single second, neither of us moved.
My heartbeat stumbled.
Then doubled.
Because the look on his face told me one thing.
This was not going to end well.