Page 19 of Mrs. Rathore

My gaze shifted to Avni. She sat there in her wheelchair as amusement tugging at her lips like this was all a show for herentertainment. Bitch. I’d never cursed a woman in my life but for her, I’d make an exception.

“You know what…” Ira’s voice rang out beside me, sharp and burning with fury as she stepped forward. “If I were in your place, Aryan, I’d have gone to jail before marrying that disabled woman. I’d have chosen prison over being tied to her.”

Rhea’s mouth opened in protest. “She’s not disabled...”

“Shut up, Rhea!” Ira barked, cutting her off before she could finish. “I never imagined you could enjoy watching your brother’s life crumble like this. You’re laughing while he’s burning.”

“It’s your life that’s upside down, not his,” Rhea snapped back, gripping the wheelchair tighter. “He has a wife now...”

“Shut the fuck up, Rhea!” I roared, my voice echoing like thunder. Her eyes widened. I had never yelled at my little sister before, not even in the worst of fights. But seeing her standing there, aligned with her. With Avni just set my blood ablaze.

Rhea recoiled, her face paling as she looked down, biting her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Her fingers tightened on the wheelchair handle until her knuckles turned white.

“It’s time to leave,” Father said finally, voice grim as his eyes darted between us. “What happened?”

No one answered.

I didn’t care anymore. My jaw clenched as I grabbed Ira’s hand and stormed off, dragging her with me.

“Aryan!” Father’s voice chased after me, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back.

I shoved the car door open and pushed Ira inside. Sliding behind the wheel, I gripped the steering tightly and started the engine. My foot slammed the accelerator as I raced away, each streetlight blurring past like a heartbeat.

“What the hell did you just do?” Ira asked, stunned, like she hadn’t just witnessed everything unravel.

“This marriage isn’t valid,” I spat. “It was forced. My father wanted it, so I did it. But it doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going to treat her like a wife. She’s nothing more than dirt under my damn shoes.”

Even I flinched at my words. But anger had silenced my conscience. I had been seconds away from punching the priest when he pronounced us husband and wife.

Ira let out a bitter laugh. “Did you even know Avni asked your father to treat her mother in the best hospital? And to enroll her brother in an expensive school?”

My hands froze on the wheel.

“What?” I turned to her, eyes burning.

“Yeah,” she said, voice sharp with disbelief. “My father told me. Your father told him. Apparently, she didn’t just ask to marry you but she asked for a full-on package deal. She wanted comfort, money, and a future for her family. She sold herself, Aryan. She trapped you.”

“She’s a gold digger. And honestly, sometimes I wonder if she purposely threw herself in front of your car just to get what she wanted. These poor girls? They can be desperate. Anything for a price. Did you see her saree today? It looked like she picked it from a trash heap. Even my maid wears better.”

Something in me snapped.

I slammed the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt in the middle of the road. Ira jerked forward in her seat. I threw the door open, stepped out, and sucked in a breath as the weight of everything crashed down.

My lungs felt like they were folding in on themselves.

She played me. She used me.

She made me a joke.

“Fuck!” I slammed my palm against the hood. Once. Twice. Again. Pain shot up my arm, but it did nothing to soothe the fire burning in my chest.

“Aryan…” Ira rushed to my side, catching my bruised hand in hers. She studied it, worrying about creasing her brows. “What did you do?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer.

I looked at her, at the girl I should’ve married, the girl whose heart I broke to fix a mistake that should’ve never been mine to correct.

And in that split second, I lost control.