Chapter 16
The chapter is unedited so read at your own risk.
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Author'sPOV
Safiya glared at Zaviyar, throwing daggers at him, while he just pursed his lips like he was trying hard not to say something that might get him stabbed again.
His feet still throbbed from that brutal heel strike.
It felt less of a heel and more of a weapon.
the fresh scratch marks on his palm stung like a wasp had bitten him thanks to her perfectly manicured nails.
Instead of wiping the blood on his own clothes or a tissue like a normal person would, he wiped his hand clean on her red lehenga.
She let out a sharp hiss of anger, barely holding herself back from reacting. She snatched her dupatta away from him and glared at him.
Safiya was thankful her face was hidden behind the veil. If it weren't for that thin shield, everyone would have seen the way her expression twisted into pure irritation. Her jaw clenched, lips pressed into a firm line as she plotted murder with her eyes.
She wasn't about to let her bridal photos get ruined with a frown, no matter how annoyed or betrayed she felt at that moment.
"Zaviyar, lift the veil. The nikah is over now," Riffat's voice rang out as she motioned toward him with a proud smile on her face.
But he didn't even flinch. His cold, unreadable gaze remained fixed on the girl beside him from the corner of his eyes as he said blankly, "She can do it herself, Mom. "
"At least we agree on something for once.", she whispered with sarcasm, which only he could hear.
With that, she lifted the veil herself, her movements graceful yet mechanical. She unveiled her face with Khwaish's help but let the dupatta rest a little behind the design of the mathapatti.
Riffat gasped the moment her face was revealed. Safiya's beauty was alarming. All the guests began gathering to catch a glance making her nervous. Yet, everyone overlooked her unreadable, almost melancholic expression.
All the guests praised her beauty making Safiya wonder whether she was a showpiece of some kind.
' Look at her skin, she's not as fair as the bride that ran away'
' Indeed, zulekha's skin was like milk.'
' Why is she not smiling? Brides are supposed to smile. '
'Look her nose is not pierced. She's wearing a magnetic nose ring. Tch... tch... brides nowadays try to be too modern and following sunnah'
She wanted to point out that piercing the nose wasn't even a religious thing. It was a effected by culture. And specially any kind of mutilation to the face is prohibited. She rolled her eyes and decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn't want to ruin her mood further.
Riffat quickly stepped in front of Safiya, blocking the view fo the guests.
Riffat didn't let the awkwardness linger.
Quickly composing herself, she pulled out a thick stack of fresh notes, circling them over Safiya and Zaviyar's heads as per the tradition.
Once done, she handed it over to one of the staff with a warm smile.
Zaviyar who was seated beside her watched her from the corner of his eyes as his eyes widened only a little.
" Galti se hee sahi, itni hoor jesi biwi milgayi tujh jese gawar ko. ", Zaviyar's eyes squinted inro slits as he heard Agastya whispering in his ear.
( Even though a mistake you got a wife who looks like a fairy )
" Ab agar tune apna muh khola na, touh Khwaish ko bolunga ki tujhe rakhi pehna deh. ", Zaviyar said with a low hum.
( if you open your mouth once more I'll tell khwaish to make you wear a rakhi and make you her brother )
" Chee... Bro I'm not into incest. Ewwww... ", Agastya grimaced at the thought..
Zaviyar again shifted his gaze back to errr- his wife, finding it hard to break contact from her alluring features. But his face twisted into regret when her words and previous actions flashed before him.
Then, turning back to Safiya with misty eyes, she leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. Her hands fumbled briefly inside her potli before pulling out a small, ornate glass box. It shimmered under the soft lights like something out of a dream.
From it, she took out the beautiful kalide which was adorned with little pearls and tiny trinkets that danced every time they moved. Riffat took Safiya's hands gently, and without saying a word helped her wear them.
Safiya glanced down at them her smile bittersweet. The kalide were the same ones Khwaish had chosen for Zulekha keeping her choice in mind. They really were stunning, no doubt. But there was this constant ache inside her chest, a quiet reminder that all of this was never meant for her.
These rituals, these blessings, this whole fairytale setup. it had been planned for someone else. And she? She was just the last-minute replacement. The stand-in bride.
Riffat kissed her forehead once again, a little longer this time, maybe out of guilt, maybe out of genuine affection. Then she turned to Rabiya and started instructing her about the ruksati preparations. The two women disappeared into the hustle of arrangements, leaving Safiya and Zaviyar behind.
Now it was time for the photo sessio. The most torturous part of this event, in her opinion. The photographer kept calling their names, adjusting angles, and asking them to pose as if they were the perfect couple who had just begun their happily ever after.
Safiya stood next to Zaviyar, her face composed and her posture perfect, but her heart too heavy. The emotions swirling within her were getting unbearable. And next to her stood Zaviyar, cold, expressionless, detached as if none of this had touched him at all.
He looked regal and royal doubt. But the photographer kept telling them to stick closer, smile like they were in love.
The grossest thing Safiya had heard. But the camera kept clicking, capturing the mask which hus the scars and the cracks within.
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Several cars stood lined up in front of the grand hotel entrance, all gleaming under the fairy lights like jewels on display. Each was decorated in different shades of flowers and ribbons, but it was the groom's car that stole all the attention.
Drenched in white roses and golden marigold garlands, ribbons trailing off like cascading silk, it looked exactly how a groom's car should, royal and majestic.
Safiya walked toward it with slow, dragging steps, her lehenga weighing her down like chains.
The previous lehenga was according to her height making it easier to carry.
But this one happened to have too many layers, to much embroidery and work on it.
To top it off, Zulekha was taller than her which made it impossible for her to walk in, even in heels.
Khwaish and a distant cousin held her arms on either side, lifting the heavy trail of embroidered fabric and making sure she didn't trip over herself. Her entire body felt numb, not just from exhaustion but from the gravity of what had just happened. A few hours ago, she had different plans.
Attend the nikah, gi back to Almora and talk to a client and come back to Azamgarh for Zaviyar and Zulekha's walima. And now, all her plans were crashed.
Just as they reached the car, Safiya froze for a second when she noticed Zaviyar already standing there, his hand on the door holding it open for her. She half-expected him to be on his phone or talking to someone arrogantly, but he was actually doing his part... reluctantly.
Looks like abuse makes him sane. As long as she was acting civil he was acting like a villain in some movie. One single stab and he's back on track of being a gentleman. Atleast for a few hours.
He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the fuss around her attire, but he waited. Patiently, even if his face said otherwise. He was tired and wanted to go back and sleep peacefully. But looks like it was not possible.
Safiya tried to gather the bulk of her lehenga and lifted it halfway into the car. But the moment she moved her foot, her heel missed a step. Her feet tilted just slightly, her balance gave way and she was about to fall back, humiliated on her ruksati of all days.
But before the worst could happen, two strong arms wrapped around her waist and steadied her.
She let out a soft gasp, heart skipping a beat.
His grip was firm but careful, lifting her just enough for her to settle into the seat without tumbling in.
His hand, warm and a little too comfortable, rested on on the small exposed area on her waist for a second longer than necessary , the thin net of her dupatta the only thing separating his skin from hers.
It wasn't scandalous, just... intimate. it was a brief touch but it made yeh adrenaline rush within herm And somehow, her stomach did a strange little flip.
She climbed into the car, flustered at her clumsiness from earlier. She was followed by Zaviyar who entered the car from the other side without a word. The rest of the Khan family was already in their respective cars, heading back to the haveli to prepare for the new bride's welcome.
Khwaish, Kabir, and Agastya's car led the way, while Safiya and Zaviyar's vehicle followed at a measured pace.
Safiya immediately pulled out her phone the moment they were on the road. She needed something to distract her from the man sitting beside her, from the heat crawling up her spine. A sigh of relief left her lips when she saw no major updates.
She quickly sent a text to her best friend Adhira.
≤ Text me back asap. Nhi touh khopdi tod dungi. ≥
( text me back or I'll break your head )
Then, without another thought, she opened her favorite ASMR game and began playing again. She didn't care if it was childish. At least it was soothing. Her mind kept flickering back to the man beside her.
She tried to steal glances of him. She saw him relaxing his head down the back rest.
She looked outside. They were passing a forest area. What if she kicked him outside, bribed the driver and went back home and told everyone that he went to pee and a tiger ate him.
" Whatever absurd ideas you are having. Stop it. ", she flinched at his voice and pouted. It was a creative idea. She wanted to argue back but what could she possibly say to a man who just had his wedding hijacked by his runaway bride?
She wanted to ask him why he agreed to this marriage and then acted so rudely. Well... he wouldn't agree to the marriage if he didn't want to. No one would force him,. he did sign the nikah nama.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye once agian, only to find him resting his head back, eyes closed, looking like he couldn't care less.
" Stop looking at me. ", he said, his eyes still closed.
" I'm having motion sickness and was looking for a trash can. You seemed to resemble it. ", she said sharply but frowned when he just replied with a 'hmmm'
No more words were exchanged between them. Both remained buried in their own awkward silences. Eventually, the soft hum of the car, the long day, and emotional exhaustion made Safiya drowsy.
She yawned, her eyes fluttering before resting her head back against the armrest. And then slowly she fell asleep.
After about an hour the car jolted roughly, hitting a pothole, making Zaviyar jolt awake in irritation. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and shot the driver a glare through the rearview mirror.
"Drive properly," he snapped.
He was about to lean back again when he felt something soft rest against his right shoulder. His brows furrowed. He glanced down and there it was.
Safiya's head, lightly tilted, her cheek grazing his shoulder as she slept soundly. No wonder the driver had been grinning at him a while ago. Zaviyar clicked his tongue and pulled the privacy partition up, blocking the view into the backseat.
Another sharp jolt from the road made Safiya stumble forward in her sleep, but Zaviyar's reflexes kicked in.
His arm shot out, catching her just in time.
She ended up pressed against him with hher left side practically folded into his right, her breath brushing his shirt.
Her eyes flew open and she gasped, only to realize she was in the arms of the man she couldn't stand.
She pulled away immediately and scooted as far toward the window as she could. Zaviyar didn't say anything, only coughed a little to shrug the awkwardness.
Just as they neared the gates of the haveli, the skies lit up with fireworks.
The entire house sparkled like it was dipped in stardust, lights, colours, smoke rising, people cheering.
A red and gold flower carpet lined the entrance, and standing at the grand wooden doors were Riffat, Rabiya, and Khwaish.
all waiting for the newly married couple.
Zaviyar got out of his side of the car. He rounded the corner and instead of opening the door for Safiya to get out he already started climbing the steps to the main door
Kabir was already at her door, holding it open and offering his hand to her like a true gentleman. Safiya gave him a grateful smile and carefully got down, her legs a little numb from sitting too long.
She held up her lehenga once again as she climbed the stairs beside Zaviyar who as expected didn't offer her a hand or even a glance.
'Cold-hearted bastard', She gritted her teeth. A part of her wishes he'd trip on the stairs and break his perfect nose.
"No, wait... Break your nose after I divorce you." she muttered to herself.
As they reached the top, Safiya suddenly felt her head spin. Her body swayed and her vision blurred. She stumbled slightly, one hand brushing against Zaviyar's, catching his attention. He reluctantly turned only to to sigh dramatically and rolled his eyes before catching her arm.
How many times had she fallen already? Should I just let har fall?
" Safiya aapi!" Khwaish ran forward and held her from the other side. She noticed how Safiya's body seemed heavier than usual indicating that she had fainted.
"Bhai, come on! Pick her up... She's tired!" she yelled at Zaviyar trying to balance Safiy's weight.
Zaviyar gave her an unimpressed look, but Riffat's sharp voice cut through the noise.
"She must be exhausted. Zaviyar beta, pick her up... now.", Reluctantly, he moved forward, wrapped his right arm around Safiya's back and the other under her knees, lifting her bridal style.
Everyone followed him silently as he carried her inside, the weight of her body resting entirely against his chest. He could hear the faint sound of her breathing and see the little flickers of movement under her eyelids.
And for the first time, he realized just how heavy that damn lehenga really was.
Nauman, Kabir, Wajahat and even Agastya who were greeting and distributing sweets and gifts to the villagers came back.. only to stand at the threshold with their mouths open.
Zaviyar Raza Khan, the same arrogant man who never let anyone near him, was walking in with his bride in his arms. Agastya, never missing an opportunity, whipped out his phone and began recording the scene
Even the staff, who had been ready to rain flowers on Zulekha, froze mid shower when they saw Safiya's face. Zaviyar who had carried her into the hall stopped when flowers were rained upon them once again.
Safiya stirred a little in his arms. Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. She was being carried...
By him?!!!
Zaviyar didn't say a word. Just gave her a cold look before lowering her onto the couch. But as he leaned in to adjust her dupatta, he felt her breath against his neck. He froze as the warm breathed famned on his skin making the hair on the back of his neck stand.
Zaviyar stood up quickly, ready to disappear but Riffat stopped him with a death glare and pointed to the couch, silently telling him to sit beside her.
Khwaish returned with a glass of ORS and handed it to Safiya, who drank it in one go.
"Quickly serve dinner. No one has eaten anything since morning" Riffat instructed, and the servants scrambled to set up the dining table.
Dinner was quiet. Zaviyar and Safiya ate small portions, more out of obligation than hunger. Both were too drained to feel anything. Others are at the dining table while the couple took the couch, since the outfits weren't that comfortable to sit in.
After dinner, Riffat and Rabiya returned with a bowl of gulab jamun.
"Safiya, feed your husband," Riffat said with a smile.
Safiya grimaced at the title. She stared at Riffat like she'd lost her mind but reluctantly nodded. She picked up one gulab jamun with the spoon and extended it toward Zaviyar. He took a bite without argument. It was sweet, not his favourite, but right now, it just tasted bitter.
Then it was his turn.
He shook his head at his mother, but she gave him the look, and he gave in. With the same spoon, he fed one to Safiya. Everyone clapped at the tradition, but both of them just wanted to be left alone.
Zaviyar stood up immediately, tugged Agastya's collar, and pulled him toward the garden so he wouldn't hover near Khwaish
Safiya watched them go, then yanked off her veil with a groan and leaned back.
"Shabana, please lower the temperature of the AC," she muttered.
Rabiya rushed over in horror. "Why are you taking off your veil?"
Safiya rolled her eyes. "Because if I wear it for one more second, I'll die. Didn't you see me faint?"
Rabiya tried to reason, "I know, but it's the ritual- "
"I don't care, Mom. Whatever the bloody ritual is."
Just then Khwaish returned and announced, "Aapi, I'll take you to Zaviyar bhai's room."
Safiya nodded, her jaw tight, and followed. Too tired to sulk at the mention of going to his room. All she needed was a bed.
The moment she stepped into the West Wing, her heart sank. This was the place she swore she'd never walk into.
Now... she'd be living here. At least for a year. And at that moment only one thought lingered in her mind.
Fate sure is one cruel, twisted bitch.
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Safiya's POV
I stepped into the room for the first time since I arrived at this mansion. The West Wing, practically Zaviyar's den. I had avoided it like the plague ever since the incident and now this was my room. Our room.
Technically, only for a year.
The walls were painted black. I preferred lighter colours which would soothe my eyes but I guess the black theme wasn't that bad. The windows were large, stretching from floor to ceiling, but they were swallowed up by heavy black curtains, blocking even the moonlight.
The only source of illumination came from a couple of dim wall lights and the nightstands. The ceiling lights remained off, adding to the whole haunted vampire mansion aesthetic.
The room was freezing. The AC must've been set to a lower mode because the contrast from the suffocating summer heat outside nearly made my teeth chatter.
My eyes scanned the space. It didn't seem homely at all rather it was cold, dark, and quite dull. The only other colour was white and gold to add a sense of aesthetic to the room. Above the bed hung a huge, dramatic portrait of Zaviyar in a sherwani wearing a traditional turban and holding a-
Wait. Is that a sword? What the actual fuck?
Was he still going through his emo... maharaja... alpha male phase? The black room I could tolerate but the sword? What was he trying to do, scare off intruders or act like he was starring in a historical revenge drama?
Wanna be Saif ali khan from meesho.
I rubbed my temples in dis-taste. My eyes landed on the bed. It was beautifully decorated with fresh petals, a floral heart in the center, our names delicately written within it. The sheets were, of course, black. Because, why not? Even the damn romance was black.
{ Please vote if you haven't ?????? jisne jisne vote kiya - unko ek ek gulab jamun naseeb ho. }
The floor was sprinkled with rose petals, trying to create some dreamy bridal fantasy. Too bad the groom looked like he was summoned from a dark mafia romance novel.
Khwaish entered behind me, her eyes quietly taking in the space. She didn't say anything, but from the side of my eye, I noticed how uneasy she looked too. Like she half-expected a bat to fly out of the curtains. Or batman to appear out of nowhere.
Can I still run away? Like genuinely. If I tiptoed back down the stairs and made a run for it, would anyone even stop me?
She helped me sit down on the edge of the bed, adjusting the weight of my lehenga around me. Her smile was warm with something I didn't want to see... pity. I hated it. I didn't want anyone to look at me like I was some charity case or a girl who got the groom as leftovers.
She squeezed my hand gently, then walked toward the door. But before she left, she turned around.
"I know this wasn't your choice... but I'm glad it was you who became my sister-in-law.", Safiya looked up.
" And those bangles... I didn't choose them with Zulekha in my mind. But rather for the girl who would be my bhabi ", Her words lingered even after the door closed with a soft click.
( Bhabi - sister in law )
The silence that followed was palpable, making me nervous. My hands started sweating as I adjusted my necklace that was itching my neck. Despite the cold surroundings i couldn't help sweating, it wasn't due to the heat but rather the weird nervousness she was feeling in her heart.
I glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, the darkness in the room reflecting my inner conflict.
I stared at myself in the mirror clad in a beautiful shade of red but this was not what I wished for.
. The red lehenga sparkled and I surely looked beautiful.
Like a proper bride in gold and shimmers.
But it didn't feel real. It didn't feel like it was me.
I hadn't dreamt of this and this wasn't the wedding I wanted. It wasn't the man I had chosen but one which my parents and destiny had thrown at me.
I had made a practical decision, marrying for stability not love. For a supportive setup which would not only help me focus on my career but wouldn't expect me to become a literal slave to laid back patriarchal household. But reality? Yeah, it had a twisted sense of humour.
The reality slowly sank in. Whatever had happened in the venue, replayed in my mind. Zaviyar's sudden change in demeanor really agitated me.
I closed my eyes resting against the pillows, feeling sleep consumin me. The remnants of the day had taken a toll on me.
Right now, i didn't have the energy to change. all i wanted now was to rest. The exhaustion of the day, the weight of the decision I had made. Slowly it all came crashing in.
I was so close to sleep, my mind drifting, when the door creaked open.
I blinked my eyes open, groggy and tired, only to find Zaviyar standing there, already inside.
As I adjusted my vision to the dim lighting and the bright light that travelled through the lights in the hallway, I was welcomed by the view of my dear husband staring down at me. How was he so fast? I quickly got up from the bed, awkwardly fidgeting as I was unsure of what to do.
He was staring at me, unmoving, unreadable as ever. I scrambled upright, fixing my dupatta as awkwardness drifted around me, wrapping me like an invisible cloak.
This was awkward. So awkward!
We hadn't even spoken properly. What were we now? strangers with a marriage license? Enemies who were supposed to act like a married couple?
My gaze flicked to him again and I instantly looked away. He was unbuttoning his sherwani.
Of course he was!
Heat rose to my cheeks at his actions not because I was attracted to him or anything. Not at all.
It was the first time I was this close to a man like this. With Adeel, things were always... innocent. We never kissed or got intimate because I drew a line at that. They called me old school but it was simply what I believed in and I didn't care if people judged me for it.
But now?
Now, Zaviyar stood only inches away, looking down at me. His voice dropped low, dangerously low.
"Eyes here, my dear wife."
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