CHAPTER 56
ANIKA
It must be the first time in the history of weddings that the bride’s going to the groom’s house. Well, technically I’m not taking a baraat, but it does feel like I’m storming my own wedding.
Mumma’s already left hours ago—she wanted to help with the arrangements.
We’re not contributing financially to the wedding, of course.
Aarav refused even the mention of it. So Mumma, being Mumma, found her own way to be useful.
“Helping decorate your sasural counts too,” she’d said before rushing out with a thaal in one hand and a packet of mogras in the other.
Meanwhile, I’ve been stuck here with the makeup didi for what feels like an eternity.
My cheeks hurt from smiling and pretending I’m calm.
But the truth is, my stomach’s been flipping like a gymnast on Red Bull since morning.
I look at my reflection; I look pretty, and I know I am going to blow Aarav's mind even though I chose a simple red saree and not a heavy lehenga (I wanted to be comfortable; it's my wedding after all).
Didi applies a bindi in the center of my forehead and exclaims, "Done.
" And now that she is finally done, I thank her a little too quickly, down a glass of water, and rush to lock up the house.
I pause for a moment at the door. Inhale.
Exhale. It's going to be alright. And then I shut it. As I slide into the middle seat of Aarav’s Innova, I smile to myself as I feel a tug at my saree from behind.
“Driver bhaiya,” I say, sitting up straighter, still grinning like an idiot because how can’t I, “I think you have rats in your car.”
He chuckles, eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “Don’t think so, ma’am.”
I roll my eyes and reach for my phone. There’s a ping from Aarav.
Aarav:
You look stunning.
I smile instinctively, thumbs tapping.
Me:
You haven’t even seen me.
The reply comes in two seconds . Aarav:
Don’t need to. That’s a fact.
A blush rises on my cheeks, and I grin, kicking the back of the seat lightly in mock frustration—and the car jerks to a stop.
My phone flies out of my hand and lands on the floor near the front seat.
“What the hell—” I begin, heart racing.
My eyes lift to the road. A man is standing in front of the car.
His face is covered. His body was still. I can’t see his face; it’s covered with a mask. He’s wearing all black. His muscles could crush me. Fear grips me, and my pulse stutters.
The door to my side yanks open.
A second man drags me out. “What are you—leave me!” I scream, thrashing in his grip. But he’s strong. Too strong. The driver stays still. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch.
“Help me! What are you doing?!” I scream again, breath heaving, voice cracking.
I’m trying to dig my heels in, grab the edge of anything, anything , but nothing works. The man drags me to the other man, who was standing in the middle of the road. He pulls off the mask, and I feel my body go cold. “Gaurav?” I whisper, the name catching in my throat like glass.
The man holding me removes his mask too. Kabir. I stumble. No. This can’t be happening. I thought I was done seeing these two. Shit. Is he the one behind all this? But why?
“You?” I choke out. “ You ? What is wrong with you?” I yell, trying to remove Kabir's hold on me. Gaurav steps closer. His smile is twisted.
“You’re mine, Anika. You can’t marry anyone else.”
My face twists in disgust. How can someone think like that? And why? I want to vomit.
“You’re my half-brother , you sick—” He leans in, sniffing me like some rabid animal, and I jerk my head away, bile rising in my throat.
“That won’t stop me,” he sneers. His hand lifts to touch my face.
But he never reaches it.
A gunshot cracks through the air.
BANG.
I jolt. Kabir freezes.
Gaurav screams in pain, holding his arm, blood leaking through his sleeve.
A small smile forms on my lips. Gosh, for a moment I thought he was never going to come out. I look towards the car where Aarav is standing, a gun in his hand, his eyes dark and jaw clenched.
The driver is now standing beside him, holding a gun. Aarav’s own pistol was still aimed at Gaurav. He’s breathing hard, eyes wild , shoulders tight. “Nobody touches my wife,” Aarav growls, voice lower than I’ve ever heard it.
He stumbles back. The driver cocks his gun.
Kabir lets me go instantly, backing away like a rat in daylight.
He has always been a scaredy-cat; he just doesn’t use his brain and obeys his big brother, even in his wrongdoings.
Growing up with these two was very tiring.
They treated me like their maid, always bullying me.
They even tried to hit me once, but my so-called father saved me and punished them.
I was so smug that day; little did I know what was happening behind my back and how evil my father actually was.
Aarav walks toward me. His steps are slow. Deliberate. The look in his eyes would make even the devil beg for mercy.
He stops beside me, his body tense, but his hands gentle as they brush over my bruised arm. His jaw clenches.
Without a word, he raises the gun again and fires— once , twice . Gaurav drops to the ground, howling, blood pooling near his legs.
I flinch. Not because I’m scared. But because it’s Aarav —this version of him, silent and furious.
Is he Mafia? I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Because right now? I’m watching the man I love protect me like I’m sacred. Like I’m the only thing that matters.
And these men— these monsters —have hurt me all my life.
So no, I don’t feel bad. Aarav walks toward Gaurav, who’s still writhing on the ground, and presses the sole of his shoe to his face. He writhes in pain, trying to get away from Aarav but fails.
“You really thought I’d let you hurt my wife?” His voice is dark. Sharp.
Gaurav groans, “How… how did you know?”
Aarav leans down just a little, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “Because I know how to stoop to this level when it comes to protecting what’s mine.”
Then he stands straight again, and his gaze finds me.
His voice softens—but it’s no less powerful. “And Anika isn’t just my family.”
He reaches out and takes my hand, careful with the bruise.
“She’s my life.”