Manik's grip was like iron around my wrist.
"Please… let me go!" I cried, stumbling to keep up with his long strides.
He didn't even look at me.
My chest tightened. My vision blurred. The world tilted. Then—darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a massive bed, the silk sheets cool against my skin. A glittering chandelier hung above me, its crystals casting sharp reflections across the room. Everything smelled faintly of sandalwood and something expensive.
This wasn't my home.
Where am I? What happened?
The door swung open.
Manik Oberoi stepped inside. His gaze locked on me instantly—cold, unreadable, but burning all the same. My breath caught. I backed up until my spine hit the headboard.
"Stay away from me," I whispered.
He didn't stop. In two strides, he was at my side, grabbing my wrist. His fingers dug into my skin as he pulled me from the bed.
Without a word, he dragged me down a marble-floored hallway until we entered a vast hall.
Bright lights flooded the room. A marriage stage stood in the center, draped in flowers and gold cloth. Bodyguards lined the walls, watching in silence. The sacred fire burned at the priest's feet, its crackling the only sound in the heavy air.
My throat went dry. "What is this?"
Manik pushed me toward the stage. The priest began chanting in a low, uncertain voice.
I couldn't breathe. He's… he's forcing me to marry him.
We began the rounds around the fire. Each step felt like the floor was disappearing beneath me.
His voice cut through the chanting, low and cruel:
First round: "You are not my wife—you are my slave."
Second round: "I will make sure your beauty becomes your curse."
Third round: "I will destroy your self-respect."
Fourth round: "I will make sure you live in hell."
With no hesitation, he pressed the sindoor into my hairline.
Hot tears blurred my vision. I couldn't even find the strength to speak.
After the ceremony, he hauled me back to the bedroom.
The moment the door closed, I shoved him and ran for the handle. But he caught me from behind and threw me onto the bed. I froze, my breath shallow, my body locked in fear.
He stared at me for a long moment, then turned and walked into the bathroom.
I curled into a ball, silent sobs shaking my body.
When he returned, he was in nothing but a towel. I averted my eyes instantly.
"Go to the bathroom and freshen up," he ordered.
I came out wearing the only thing I could find—a white shirt from his wardrobe, so large it hung halfway to my knees.
Manik looked up from his phone. His eyes raked over me slowly. He stood, each step toward me deliberate, until my back hit the wall.
His hand traced up my arm, then closed around my neck—not hard, but firm enough to remind me I couldn't escape.
His lips crashed against mine. There was no warmth, no tenderness—only anger.
He bit down hard, his teeth dragging over my lips, my neck, leaving burning marks across my skin. I pushed against his chest, but his grip only tightened.
My tears mixed with the heat of his mouth, the sting of his bites. My body felt heavy, my mind a whirl of fear and disbelief.
At last, my strength gave out. I collapsed back onto the bed, my eyes closing on their own.
Manik lay down beside me as if nothing had happened.
And I realized…
The marriage was over, but the nightmare had just begun.