ใ โง ๐๐๐ง๐๐ค โง ใ
I stared at my phone, the photo filling the entire screen. My heart ached at the reminder of what I had lost, and this photo was the proof of how significant that loss was. My grip tightened at the reminder.
I looked across the room and found the clothes I had planned to wear when I ran away lying in a basket, away from prying eyes. I had tried to run away multiple times last night, but being the bride, I was rarely left alone.
I looked down at the phone in my hand. And the picture that was sent on Instagram. My three best friends were standing with me as we clicked a picture at the end of the annual day performance. We were the dancers of the school, and after the show had ended, Avni's father had clicked this picture of us.
@avni.p:
Look, Kay girl. I know it's been a while. I know our families don't get along. I know we're not allowed to meet. But it's your wedding. How can I miss your wedding?
Remember how we made a pact to be each other's bridesmaids? We were so excited to grow up, to get married... Sam and Avantika aren't here anymore, but I am. I should be at your wedding.
I tried, Kay. I begged Mom and Dad. Even Keshav bhai. No one budged. I couldn't text you until now. I didn't know how to say this. But I'm saying it now.
I miss you. I should be there. I'm not, but in every way that counts, I am. Spiritually. Emotionally. I know Sam and Avantika are, too.
I found this photo yesterday and had to send it. I'm cheering you on. Always.
Also... people think you hate him. But only we know the truth. ;)
(A/N: (from left) Sameera, Avni, Kanak & Avantika)
Her words cracked something open in me. Memories I had buried surged forward, too bright, too raw. More than a decade had passed since that night, and yet the wounds still stung like they had just been carved.
Avni. The only friend I had left. I'd tried reaching her in those early days after everything. Every time, I was turned away. I told myself it was for the best. But deep down, I still longed to see her face.
Sure, looking at her face would have reminded me of the horror, but it still would have soothed the burn it caused.
I didn't reply. I just stared.
Leaving Avni on read, I opened the address book on my phone and eyed the number that I hadn't called in eight years.
I had contemplated calling Alex throughout the wedding festivities. I did not want to get married to Aryan, and that was a fact everyone was aware of. They believed that it was because I hated him.
"The truth couldn't have been further from that."
'You're right, Aryan. I have been running away. That part is true. But not from you. From myself!'
The words I'd thrown at him after the roka came flooding back. I tapped her number. Let it ring. Once. Twice. Again.
She didn't pick up.
I didn't try a second time. It was for the best, anyway. If she had picked up the call, I would have told her what was on my mind. And telling her that would have meant accepting everything I had been hiding for the last eleven years. Masking it under my hate for him.
I decided to call Mahi and Shiv. Since morning, I had been looking for ways to make my way out of the Haveli, and I could not even get out of the room, let alone the Haveli. I eyed the clothes again as I waited for Mahi and Shiv to come.
Last night, when Maa and Papa came to the room, all emotional, and while Maa cried, holding me, Papa tried his best not to. And the feelings that I had tried hard to keep buried in me sprouted.
In the morning, when the duo of terror, the twins, Shivanya and Shiva, had come with some wedding-related ritual thing, I was made to change into a red saree, and now, I sat there, in the same saree, waiting for Mahi and Shiv.
The door opened, and in walked the Attendants, all carrying my bridal attire. I was informed that the make-up artist, hairdressers and the photographers would be coming in an hour, and until then, if I wished, I could take a nap and rest, because it was going to be a long night.
I had dissociated from the day long before Avni had even sent me that picture.
I had to run away.
There was no other option left for me.
The door burst open, and Mahi ran into the room, frantically looking around, holding a gun in her hands. "Where is the intruder?"
I cocked a brow. "What intruder?"
"You sent the SOS Code: Bread," she said as she lowered the gun.
"And you thought that there was an intruder?"
She shrugged. "Why else would you use the Code?"
Someone kicked open the door, and Pranav, Jay, and Shiv entered the room, their arms loaded with guns. After checking the room, they lowered their weapons, and Shiv asked, "Why did you use 'bread' if there was no intruder?"
"When did 'bread' become a code for intruder? It is for emergencies!" I looked at Pranav and Jay. "And you brought in your guards with you?"
They quietly stowed their weapons. No apology.
"And did you really think an intruder would be able to enter my room? With the amount of surveillance that has been happening?"
They didn't answer and just tucked their weapons away in their clothes.
"So, what is the emergency?" Mahi asked.
I looked at my bridal clothes and said, "I want to run away."
There was silence in the room, and I looked at Mahi, who had her mouth hanging open and Shiv, who just looked at me.
"I want to run away from the wedding. I can't do this," I said. My voice was steady and firm. "I have been trying since last night, but I was never left alone enough to accomplish it." I looked out the window and found dusk falling. "And I need your help, now, because it is already five and I have to start getting ready in thirty minutes."
"Why?" Mahi asked.
"I can't tell you that."
"Because you hate him?" Shiv asked.
"I can't say," I repeated.
"Then, let me call Papa," Shiv said, but I shook my head.
"I don't want to involve them," I said. "Family needs to stay out of this."
Then, I thought of the surveillance van outside and the emails I had been getting.
They didn't speak, and then Shiv nodded. "You could've asked with nothing but a glance from the mandap, and I would've fought the world for you, Di. I still will."
Mahi nodded.
"Just sit tight for fifteen minutes," Shiv said as he pulled out his phone.
The door opened for the third time, and Mahi flinched. It was just an attendant, and Shiv told them to leave.
"Stand guard here and do not let anyone in until we leave," Shiv told Pranav, who nodded and stood with Jay at the door.
"Mahi and you will stay in the room, and in fifteen minutes, Jay will come and he will escort you to the exit." Shiv had been typing on his phone the entire time.
"But we can't leave from the front door," I said. "That peasant has eyes, everywhere!"
He nodded. "Exactly why you won't leave through the front," Shiv replied. "Follow Jay. He'll guide you to the exit. Mahi," he said, and Maithili looked at him. "You will be here in the room, and not Di. I will tell you what you need to do when you are here, but stay back. She will go alone."
"Alright!" Mahi said.
"Di, once you reach the getaway car, Pranav will drive you to the airport." He put the phone in his pocket.
I shook my head. "I just need a car, keys and cash for a few days. I don't want your guard guarding me."
He looked at me. "You're not leaving without protection," Shiv said firmly. "And you're not just running, you're leaving the country. Aryan will come after you, but his reach is limited overseas. I'll handle the mess here."
And that was it. That was my getaway plan, derived in under two minutes. I ran my fingers through my hair.
Shiv dropped to a crouch before me, his hands wrapping around mine, steadying me like an anchor. "Di," he said, voice low but burning with urgency, "you know if you say the word, just once, Papa will end this. He'll tear it all down for you. You don't have to run."
I shook my head, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "Exactly why I can't. One word from me, and it becomes a war. Not just a wedding gone wrong. A full-blown reckoning between us and the Rathores."
He gave a dry laugh, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Let it be. We were forged in fire. And we don't back down when it comes to our own."
My eyes hardened. "And if we light that fire now, Shiv, the Italians will walk right through the smoke. They've been waiting for a crack like this, and we'd be handing them the door."
He exhaled sharply, jaw tense. "And you think running away is any safer?"
"It's cleaner," I whispered. "This way, it's just me. My choice. My shame, not the family's battlefield."
He stared at me, anger flickering behind his eyes. I gave a faint, rueful smile. "Besides, you know Dev uncle. The man loves me more than his son. I once hurled a crystal vase at that peasant, in front of him, and he still scolded him for 'provoking my temper.'"
That pulled a reluctant laugh from Shiv, the tension cracking just enough for breath to pass between us again. But the storm hadn't left either of us.
Shiv nodded and stood. "I need to handle things on the outside. Don't worry. I will take care of everything." He smiled and looked at Mahi and me.
"So long as I draw breath, no sister of mine will be given to a man she does not love." With that, he left the room, and Mahi came to sit by me.
"Di, can I ask you something?" She asked.
I nodded. I should have been using this time to change into comfortable clothes, and yet, I sat with Mahi.
Running away would prove to be a huge mistake, I was sure. No matter how much Dev uncle loved me, humiliating his family would not be well received. I knew that.
But I also knew that I had to leave.
I could practically feel Avantika and Sameera's gazes on me. Just the mention of being married to Aryan was enough to bring their faces before my eyes.
I didn't deserve this.
They didn't deserve this.
"Is it because of what happened sixteen years ago?" She asked cautiously.
I didn't answer.
I couldn't tell them.
"Alright, I won't ask." She raised her hands and dropped onto the bed.
"All you need to know," I began, and she straightened. "Is that the only thing standing between me and the life of nightmares? This marriage. I can't have it. It will ruin me."
She nodded. "Marriage is tough, Di. I know it. I am married. And you have to be a hundred per cent sure before you make that decision. It has to be completely rational and thought through."
I nodded and didn't say anything.
"I am thinking of divorcing, Rudra."
As her words registered, I slowly turned to look at my little sister. This girl had fought the entire family for months, just to marry Rudra. And now, she was planning to divorce him.
I didn't know if I should be happy or sad.
"What happened?" I asked.
She shook her head. "It's a long story, and we don't have enough time. But we will, once you return." She then looked at me. "You will come back, right?"
"Yes. Of course, I will come back! I can't stay away from my family for long now. I have done it once, I don't have it in me to do it again." I smiled.
There was a soft knock, and a second later, the door creaked open.
Jay stepped inside, his expression unreadable but alert. "It's time, ma'am."
My stomach flipped.
I stood, the rustling of silk whispering across the quiet room as I reached for my sneakers and slipped them on beneath the folds of my red saree. The combination was absurd, tradition paired with rebellion, but somehow, it fit. One foot in my nightmare, the other pointed toward freedom.
Mahi threw her arms around me. She didn't speak. Didn't need to. Her hug said everything.
I pulled back, nodded, and turned toward the door.
The hallway outside was empty. Unnaturally so. No cousins loitering with trays of sweets, no aunties whispering about bridal jewellery. No scent of rose petals, no music, no chaos. Shiv had cleared the path.
I inhaled sharply and stepped into the corridor, my payal chiming with every footfall like a quiet alarm. Even now, on the verge of escape, I couldn't stop the sound. Aryan's gift. A delicate chain around my ankles that sounded too much like a shackle.
We moved swiftly through the haveli, one hallway after another. The deeper we went, the quieter it became. Each corridor was lined with marigold garlands and fairy lights, remnants of celebration mocking my departure. Like ghosts of a wedding that would never happen.
We turned a corner, and I realised where Jay was leading me.
The back exit.
The old servants' path. It wound through the garden, where the formal guests never went. I glanced at the ornate windows above, half-expecting to see eyes watching. But there was no one. Shiv had planned this down to the last breath.
In fifteen minutes, that too.
As we reached the final stretch of the hallway leading to the garden, the air grew heavier with silence.
Jay suddenly paused. "Wait."
He stepped in front of me protectively, and I ducked behind him. Two attendants passed by, each carrying large wicker baskets overflowing with jasmine and rose petals. They were laughing about something, blissfully unaware that the bride had just walked past them, running away from the wedding.
Once they disappeared down the path, Jay pointed toward the end of the garden, where an old iron fence met the edge of the estate.
"See that wall?" he whispered. "We're exiting from there."
I nodded, clutching the folds of my saree tighter.
My saree dragged behind me as we walked through the garden. Wild plants brushed against my legs, a stark contrast to the manicured perfection of the main courtyard. There were no lanterns here, no wedding music drifting in the background. Only the hush of dusk settled over the estate.
"Aren't there security cameras here?" I asked, scanning the trees and rooftops.
Jay smirked faintly. "Sir handled it. We're clear."
We reached the fence. It looked ancient and rusted, the metal wires bent outward, forming a makeshift opening. Jay slipped through first, then held the gap wide for me.
I stopped.
And turned.
And looked back at the haveli one last time.
The red sandstone walls glowed gold in the fading light, fairy lights flickering along the terrace railings. It looked beautiful from here. Serene. As if nothing ugly had ever touched it.
As if it weren't the place of my nightmares.
I stepped through the gap in the fence and felt the sharp tug on my pallu.
I turned. The fabric had snagged on the twisted wire. I gave it a firm pull.
It tore.
A crimson piece fluttered in the breeze, clinging to the jagged edge of the fence. A part of me was left behind.
I kept walking, the sound of my payal echoing in the emptiness. No matter how far I ran, his gift would follow me, soft, silvery reminders of all the chains that were my shackles.
'I hope you find my gift, Peasant.'
We crossed the barren field behind the haveli, the wild grass scraping our ankles as the sky dimmed into a wash of pale violet. The sun had almost dipped below the horizon. The air was cooler here. Cleaner. Like freedom.
Ahead, the outline of Somarath Resort rose in the fading light, its renovated palace walls glowing under spotlights. Of course. It was the perfect place to blend in. Tourists, staff, and wedding guests, no one would question a woman in a red saree walking calmly through the grounds. And there, stood Pranav.
They would, however, notice a woman wearing a torn and dirty red saree, with equally dirty sneakers under it.
"Pranav will escort you from here, ma'am," Jay said and nodded at Pranav.
I followed Pranav down the stone-paved path. The resort was bustling, guests in linen suits, waiters carrying cocktails, the faint hum of live music playing somewhere deeper inside.
Even now, even here, I couldn't help but admire the beauty of it all. Rathore Constructions had done a stunning job restoring the palace.
We moved quickly but without drawing attention. My torn saree flapped slightly at the edges, and the white sneakers peeking out beneath the folds drew a few curious glances. But no one stopped us.
And in an hour, I would be gone.
My phone buzzed.
PRIVATE JET READY. AWAITING BOARDING.
"Ma'am," Pranav said quietly. "The car is parked out front."
I typed a quick message to Shiv: On the way to the airport.
We reached the circular driveway. A sleek black sedan stood waiting. I slid inside without a word. The leather interior smelled of new polish and silent promises. The door shut with a quiet finality.
As we pulled out of the resort, another black car merged beside us. Then another behind.
A convoy.
I stiffened. "Pranav?"
He didn't flinch. "They're ours. Sir insisted. You're not leaving unguarded."
Of course he did.
I looked out the tinted window, the resort slipping away behind us.
"How much longer to the airport?" I asked.
"About an hour and a half," Pranav said, eyes on the road, voice calm and clipped. "You can rest assured. We'll be there soon, and you'll be out of the country within two hours, ma'am."
I nodded slowly, leaning back against the plush leather seat. I wanted to feel relief. I wanted to breathe.
But my heart hadn't stopped pounding since I made the decision to run. A decision that felt like liberation and betrayal all at once.
I tried to focus on the rhythmic hum of the engine, the faint vibration beneath my palms as they rested on the seat. But peace didn't come. Every heartbeat echoed in my chest like a countdown.
I wasn't just abandoning a wedding. I was detonating a political powder keg.
The Rathores would not take this lightly. Their pride ran deeper than blood. A public humiliation like this, being left by the woman who had publicly hated his son, would be a scandal they couldn't erase. No amount of money or PR could polish over the fact that I had run. From him.
They would see it as a disgrace.
And yet, even as guilt pressed down on my chest like a vice, I didn't regret it. Not for a second.
Betraying them meant being loyal to someone else.
Papa would forgive me. I knew that.
I exhaled and glanced out the window.
I couldn't see much.
The road was framed by dense trees and twilight mist, but all of it was obscured by the flanking sedans, sleek, black, and silent, one to the right, one to the left, another trailing behind. Protective shadows encase our vehicle like a moving fortress.
Shiv had made sure of it.
And somewhere beyond these guarded steel walls was Aryan, left waiting, humiliated, furious. Or worse... indifferent.
I closed my eyes, hoping the motion of the car, the rhythmic hum of tires against asphalt, would lull my mind into silence.
It didn't.
His face lingered behind my eyelids, sharp and haunting. Those eyes, too knowing. That expression, half fury, half ache. It refused to leave, hovering like smoke just under the surface of my thoughts.
Aryan.
I hadn't run from him, not really. I had run from the reflection he cast back at me, of a version of myself I couldn't bear to become.
From what this marriage symbolised.
And as I'd told him once, shouted it, really, on the morning after our roka, I was running from myself, too. From the girl who still trembled when certain names were mentioned. From the scars I had buried beneath silk and sarcasm. From the unbearable knowledge of the wrongs I would be committing if I stayed.
I turned my face toward the window, letting the cool glass press against my cheek. Outside, twilight had deepened into indigo, and the moon was rising, soft, solemn, and round, veiled lightly by drifting clouds.
It hung in the sky like a watchful eye.
I stared at it, lost in thought. Letting the stillness swallow me. The fields blurred past outside, wrapped in silver-blue darkness. My breathing slowed.
And then...
Crack.
A sharp sound shattered the night.
My body jolted upright.
Gunfire.
My ears rang in the sudden silence that followed, broken only by Pranav's voice, calm, clipped, and deadly serious.
"Stay down, ma'am!" Pranav barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Gunfire cracked behind us, loud, rapid, relentless. Bullets slammed into metal with sharp metallic thuds. I ducked instinctively, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest.
The dรฉjร vu of this moment was achingly familiar.
Outside, Shiv's guards leaned out of the car windows, returning fire with military precision. Muzzle flashes lit up the dark like lightning, brief and brutal.
"Motherfucker," Pranav muttered, yanking the wheel hard to the left as another round of shots rained down. The tires screamed against the asphalt, but the car held. His control was surgical, flawless, even in the chaos.
The world blurred outside the windows, streaks of trees and night and headlights merging into one dizzying rush.
"We can't go to the airport like this!" Pranav shouted over the cacophony. "We'll lead them right to the jet. We have to reroute, now!"
Before I could respond, he twisted the steering wheel again. The car veered violently off the main road and onto a narrow, unlit lane that plunged into the woods. The tires spat up gravel, and the headlights barely lit the thick veil of trees ahead.
Branches clawed at the sides of the car like skeletal hands. The path narrowed, uneven and brutal, but Pranav didn't slow. Behind us, two black sedans drove with us. They must have taken down one of the cars that followed us for my security.
"Did Aryan find us so soon?" I asked, breathless.
Pranav didn't look at me. His jaw was tight, eyes locked on the winding path ahead.
"Possibly. Or someone tipped them off. Either way, we need to outrun them."
A sharp retort echoed, another gunshot. One of the guard cars jerked violently to the right as a bullet punched through its side mirror. Smoke billowed from the hood, and it careened into the trees, metal crunching, branches cracking.
"Two down," Pranav muttered. "Fuck!"
The third security car remained, keeping pace beside us, its window half-lowered as another guard leaned out, unloading rounds into the darkness behind us.
Then came the unmistakable sound, a rocket launcher being primed.
"Shit!" Pranav slammed the accelerator and jerked the car to the right again, narrowly dodging the incoming projectile. The rocket exploded behind us, a shockwave tearing through the air, lifting earth, flame, and debris. The back windshield shattered, glass raining down on my lap.
I gasped, covering my head as the world shook.
"Aryan wouldn't try to kill me for this, would he?" I screamed, the words torn from my throat, sharp and panicked as the night exploded around us.
Pranav opened his mouth, eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror, haunted, uncertain, but no answer came. Just the silence of someone who couldn't lie, and didn't dare speak the truth.
His hesitation was answer enough.
A cold chill slithered down my spine, deeper than the night air that seeped through the shattered rear windshield. My lungs contracted, breath shallow and sharp.
"Oh God..." I gasped, the realisation striking with the force of a bullet.
This wasn't just a chase.
This was a hunt.
He wouldn't, he couldn't, be trying to kill me. Could he?
Aryan had always looked at me like I was some unsolvable equation, part obsession, part battlefield. He had wanted me, yes. With a hunger that unsettled me more than once. His gaze lingered too long. His words were often wrapped in thorns. But I had never thought...
Never thought he'd chase me with guns.
He wanted to marry me. That much was clear from the moment of our betrothal, the thing I felt under me as I sat on his lap during haldi, how he had touched me before Mehndi.
'An act befitting my princess.'
My princess.
And now, he was trying to kill his princess.
My heart thundered with a new fear, heavier than the bullets outside.
Wait. That didn't make sense. Killing me wasn't Aryan's style.
Not like this. Not in a car chase. Not in a rain of bullets and fire.
No, Aryan wouldn't want me dead.
He'd want me owned.
He would chase me on foot and capture me. He'd drag me back by my hair, parade me in front of the media, force me into the mandap, and make sure the world saw me kneel. He wouldn't kill me.
He'd humiliate me. Break me from the inside. Slowly. Publicly.
That was Aryan Rathore.
I sat up straighter, blood rushing to my ears. "God, no..." I whispered, the realisation slamming into me like a wall.
"Pranav, it's not him," I said, voice tight, laced with rising panic.
He glanced at me briefly, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.
"I know." His tone was grim. "I figured it out the moment they opened fire. They weren't trying to stop us. They were trying to erase you. Or maybe injure you and then capture you."
I swallowed hard, bile rising in my throat.
This wasn't Aryan trying to get me back.
This was a hit.
"It's the Italians," I muttered, jaw clenched, fury blooming beneath my fear.
Not Aryan.
This wasn't his work, too reckless, too final. He wouldn't try to kill me. But them?
They'd tried before. This time, they came prepared.
I reached beneath the seat, and my fingers closed around the cold metal. Smooth. Familiar. Comforting.
"Pranav," I said, my voice hard and steady despite the chaos. "Keep driving."
Without waiting for his reply, I racked the bolt, the click sharp and clean like a promise. "I'll show them exactly who Kanak Thakur is."
I shifted, sliding down from the seat, the red saree tangling around my ankles. I kicked it back, bracing myself on the floor of the car, knees steady, shoulder pressed to the door frame. I locked eyes on the side mirror, two black SUVs tailing close.
I aimed and fired.
The shot ripped through the front tire of the first SUV. It veered hard, spinning across the asphalt and slamming into a tree. Sparks flew. Metal screamed.
"One," I said under my breath, already turning.
The second SUV accelerated, trying to overtake. I waited, breath steady, pulse thrumming with focus. As it began to pull up beside us, I pivoted fast, leaned out of the window, and fired a quick double tap into the windshield.
The glass spiderwebbed. The driver jerked the wheel in panic. Their vehicle clipped a street pole and slammed sideways into a parked construction truck. Steam hissed from the engine.
"Two down!" I yelled, hair whipping across my face. "How many did you count?"
"Five," Pranav barked, weaving between lanes with calculated aggression. "One on our tail, two approaching from the left ramp!"
I turned fast, using the edge of the door to steady my arm. "Copy that."
The rear vehicle started gaining. I opened the glove box, pulled out a smoke flare, yanked the pin, and tossed it out the back. A plume of dense white filled the road. Through it, I caught flashes of the SUV swerving blindly.
"They thought I was just a bride," I said coldly, "but they forgot whose blood I carry."
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