CHAPTER 19
SIYA
Two days later – (Cape Town, South Africa)
It has been four days since I returned to Cape Town, and in another three days, I’m supposed to marry Parag Reddy.
A mafia wedding.
Not the kind most people dream about, filled with music, laughter, mehendi, haldi, endless relatives, and rituals stretching across days because two families are genuinely happy to unite. None of that exists here.
This marriage has nothing to do with love. In our world, marriages are not celebrations. Marriages here are transactions. It is simply an alliance between the Vardhaans and the Reddys. Which is exactly why it feels more suffocating with every passing hour.
I don’t want this wedding to happen. I don’t want Parag. More than that, I do not want this life anymore. Even now, the only thing running through my head is the need to escape with Mom and get the hell out of here. Somehow. Some way. I just don’t know how.
Back at RK Estate, freedom had started to feel dangerously real. Shivtara Valley had given me a glimpse of a life free from guards, guns, syndicates, and constant surveillance. I had almost started believing that I could actually leave this world behind.
But now that I’m back inside Vardhaan Mansion in Cape Town, the cruel reality is back.
I’m practically confined here. While I can move within the mansion grounds, stepping outside without permission is impossible now.
Especially after Michael and Parag discovered how many times I slipped past security in Shivtara Valley.
Guards follow me everywhere. Watch me constantly. In fact, this mansion feels even more like a prison than it did before. But none of that is what truly disturbs me.
It is him. Raghav.
No matter how hard I try not to think about what happened that night at the temple event, the memories still find me anyway. God. I still cannot believe I kissed him.
It was my first kiss.
Mafia women are guarded throughout their lives, and the only man they are supposed to kiss or have any physical relation with is the one they eventually marry. I grew up hearing so much about kisses, about passion, about how people lose themselves in moments like that.
Honestly, I never understood the obsession. How intense could a kiss really be? What was so special about it?
But then I experienced it with him, and now I know.
That one kiss from Raghav stole every coherent thought from my head and left me struggling for air.
It was overwhelming. Possessive. Addictive.
Like he kissed me with a hunger that seemed to reach straight to my soul.
And the worst part? I kissed him back just as fiercely.
Without thinking, without stopping, or wanting to stop. Even now, I have absolutely no regrets about it. But no matter how calm his life looks now, Raghav still belongs to the same world I have spent months trying to escape.
So why do I still think about him so much? Why do his touches still linger on my skin? Why do I still remember the exact way his mouth moved against mine?
I hate that I don’t have answers to any of those questions.
I exhale heavily as I stop outside Mom’s room.
The faint sound of temple bells echoes softly the moment I walk inside.
She’s praying. I stay quiet and wait near the door, watching her kneeling before the small mandir beside the window, her hands folded in front of the idols.
The moment Mom’s prayers end, I walk over and wrap my arms around her from behind. She startles slightly before relaxing.
“Siya?” Mom turns towards me with a soft smile. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why do you look so gloomy?” she asks gently. “And don’t tell me you still haven’t started packing. Your wedding is in three days.”
I grimace. “Please don’t remind me.”
“Siya…”
“I don’t want to marry him, Mom.”
She sighs before cupping my face. “We don’t always get the life we wish for.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It sounds realistic.”
I look away bitterly while she continues calmly, “And honestly, I told you… maybe Parag is a good man.”
I stare at her like she has lost her mind. “Good man? And Parag?”
“I’m serious,” she insists. “Maybe he’s not the kind of man you dreamt about. Maybe his world is wrong. Maybe everything about this alliance feels forced right now. But I trust you. I trust that whoever stays beside you long enough will eventually become better because of you.”
I almost laugh at that. “Mom, this is not some fairytale where the villain transforms into a prince.”
Her fingers smooth over my hair lovingly.
“You have spent your entire life dreaming about your Prince Charming, Siya. Maybe he’s the one.”
The moment I hear those words, Prince Charming, the only face that flashes through my mind is Raghav.
Dark eyes.
A rough, stubbled jaw.
A black shirt.
A Lily garland around his neck.
And lips on mine.
No.
I instantly step away from that thought. Absolutely not. Raghav Kundra is the last man on earth who should ever appear in my fantasies about love. I hate that my mind keeps returning to him and our kiss, though.
“I still don’t want this marriage,” I admit quietly. “In fact, I don’t want to get married this soon.”
Mom’s expression softens with sadness as I reveal my real feelings.
“And even if I marry, I cannot leave peacefully knowing you’ll still be here alone with Samarjeet.”
That immediately wipes the softness from her face.
“Don’t worry about me.”
“How can I not?”
Before she can answer, the bedroom door suddenly opens and Samarjeet strolls in.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he drawls, looking at me, “My dear sister still crying about not wanting to marry Parag?”
I straighten instantly. “Yes, I don’t want to marry that clown. And I’ll keep fighting this until my last breath.”
He smirks.
“You’ve been repeating the same thing for weeks now, Siya. It’s getting boring. You cannot fight this anymore. The marriage is happening, and whether you like it or not, I’ll be seeing you off with my brother-in-law. Forever.”
Just then, a sudden knock interrupts us. Michael steps inside and leans close to Samarjeet, whispering something in his ear. Samarjeet’s expression shifts slightly. Then he nods.
“Send her in,” he says slowly.
A few seconds later, a young woman enters the room. She appears to be around my age. Tall, lean, and attractive. Not the polished socialite kind of beauty. But the dangerous kind.
She’s wearing a black tank top and combat trousers, paired with a short open jacket and heavy boots.
Her long hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, and the way she carries herself instantly tells me she knows how to fight.
Trained. Professional. Her eyes scan the room once before settling on me calmly. Almost knowingly.
“Siya, meet Trisha,” Samarjeet smirks, eyeing the woman lecherously before introducing us. “Parag has assigned her as your new personal bodyguard.”
The woman gives me a small nod while I stare back at her coldly. So Parag really did send someone to watch over me, to make sure I don’t run away before the wedding. Or after. Or maybe for the rest of my life.
I already hate guards. And I especially hate guards sent by Parag Reddy.
“Wow,” I mutter dryly. “He thinks he can keep an eye on me through this woman here? What a fool!”
Mom gives me a warning look, silently asking me not to create another scene. Too late for that. I barely spare the woman another glance before turning back to Samarjeet.
“You know what? Fine. Let the wedding happen. But Mom comes with me afterwards.”
“No.”
My jaw tightens.
“That wasn’t a request.”
“And this isn’t your house to make demands anymore.”
I glare at him with pure hatred as he continues.
“Are you so na?ve enough to think I’d let my biggest leverage walk away with you, Siya? Seriously?”
Mom freezes. So do I. But Samarjeet only grins.
“If, after the wedding, you decide to create problems, run away, or jeopardise the alliance, I need something to ensure your cooperation.” His gaze flicks briefly towards Mom. “And that something is her.”
Rage explodes inside me.
“You’re disgusting—”
I move towards him to slap his face, but Samarjeet is quicker. He about to reach for my ponytail, ready to twist it, but before he can touch me, another arm stops him.
Trisha.
She stands between me and Samarjeet like a wall, glaring at him. “You cannot touch her,” she says, keeping her tone professional.
Samarjeet shoves her hand away and takes a threatening step forward.
“And who the hell are you to tell me that?” he barks.
“Her personal bodyguard,” Trisha replies without flinching.
There’s no trace of fear on her face. “It’s my responsibility to keep her safe.
If Boss finds out that someone, even if it’s her brother, tried to physically hurt her three days before the wedding, he may take stricter measures against you. I’d advise you not to try that again.”
I’m shocked to see Trisha actually protecting me from Samarjeet, taking her role so seriously, even against my brother. Most people wouldn’t dare oppose him. But I don’t need her help. She’s still one of them… sent by the man I don’t want to marry.
So I step forward and look at Trisha. “You don’t have to get into this. I can handle my own battles.”
She calmly clasps her hands behind her back again, slipping effortlessly into that rigid military stance. “Orders are orders, Ma’am. And I don’t disobey mine. No matter who’s standing in front of me.”
Attitude. The woman is something else.
Where did Parag even find her? I ignore that thought for now and turn to Samarjeet again.
“Dad would be so disappointed,” I say, almost regretfully. “He wanted you would lead his throne and protect his family. And this is how you are doing it? By practically selling off your own sister for an alliance? Do you think this would make him proud?”
Samarjeet clenches his jaw and retorts, “He’s dead. I don’t give a damn whether he’d be proud of me or not. So, don’t give me those lectures again. And get the f*ck out of this house in three days.”