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”Papa…”

In a desperate move, she shoves Vikrant backward with all her strength, causing him to stagger. She races toward her father, throwing herself at Viren and pushing him away just in time. He falls heavily, sustaining visible injuries. Vikrant recovers quickly and stares at the chaos, his gaze locking on Jhankar. She kneels beside her father, trying frantically to tend to his wounds. Her eyes burn with helplessness, but her voice trembles with defiance.

"If your bride has run away, it’s your fault, not ours…. Maybe she saw what a monster you are and realized she’d rather run than be chained to you. Maybe she knew you didn’t deserve her. That’s why she left."

Vikrant’s fists clench. He storms over, grabs her hair roughly, and yanks her to her feet, forcing her to face him. His voice is low but furious.

"What… Did you just say?"

Jhankar glares into his eyes, her anger mirroring his.

"I said, maybe she left because you’re not worthy of her. Maybe she ran because living with a devil like you is worse than death. Maybe she chose freedom or death over being shackled to a beast!"

Viren, now standing again, marches toward her, seething. He raises his hand to strike her. But before his hand can fall.

“SHUT UP...”

Vikrant’s roar shatters the room. The sheer force of his voice freezes everyone. Even Jhankar flinches, startled. Her wide eyes lock onto his, surprised by the raw power he exudes. Viren turns toward Vikrant, already regretting his actions.

“Son… don’t worry. I understand your anger. We’ll find Sonakshi, wherever she is. Once we locate her, you will have the discretion to handle the situation as you see fit. No one will question you. The wedding must happen today. Everyone important is already here. The media is buzzing. We cannot let this turn into a bigger disaster. I’m ready to get my younger daughter married to you right now. I’ll call my wife, she’ll prepare her. We’ll handle everything. And later, I’ll personally see to it that we punish these people. Sonakshi doesn’t deserve mercy. If she shows her face again, finish her.”

Vikrant doesn’t respond. His blood-red eyes continue to bore into Viren’s soul. The older man lowers his gaze, aware that he is conversing with the devil himself, a figure feared throughout the mafia world. No one crosses Vikrant Dhanraj and survives.

Vikrant’s eyes now return to Jhankar. She’s struggling fiercely, tears streaming down her face as she fights to free her hair from his punishing grip. She keeps trying to turn her head to see her parents, but his hold is so tight, she can’t move an inch. Without warning, Vikrant lifts her onto his shoulder like a possession. She screams, beats her fists against his back, and kicks wildly, but it’s useless. He turns to his men and issues his command.

"Take her parents. Lock them up. Don’t release them until I say so. Her brother has taken my bride; now his sister will take her place at the altar. She didn’t want to stay with the devil, but this girl had no choice."

Chitrali and Raghunath, lying bruised and bloodied, suddenly scream in agony and stagger to their feet. They chase after Vikrant with all the strength left in their aging bodies. But they are no match for him. Jhankar thrashes on his shoulder, shrieking:

"LEAVE ME, YOU BASTARD… LEAVE ME…"

But Vikrant doesn’t stop. Not for her cries. Not for her fists. Not for her tears. He vanishes from the house—taking his bride with him.

CHAPTER 6

MARRIAGE

Jhankar sat quietly, her breath completely uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew her parents were not with her, they were somewhere else, and their lives were in grave danger. Vikrant had made that clear. He had made it clear to her that if she made any mistake, he would not hesitate for even two minutes before shooting her parents directly in the middle of their foreheads—right in front of her. She had no idea what was happening to them at that moment. All she knew was that she was sitting dressed as a bride, her face hidden behind a veil, and a giant crowd was watching her. She had no clue what the priest was chanting or why exactly she was being forced to go through this marriage.

Earlier, she had taken seven sacred rounds around a holy fire with a man whose name she had only read in newspapers. And now, seated silently, she stared into the burning flames before her. She couldn't cry. She couldn't scream. She couldn't speak to anyone. All she could think about was her parents, what condition they must be in. Suddenly, the priest’s voice rang out, loud and clear.

"Complete the marriage by tying the wedding chain around the bride’s neck and filling her hair partition with red vermilion."

Vikrant immediately turned toward her. With steady hands, he filled her hair partition with dark red vermilion, and she watched him closely through her veil. His eyes locked onto hers with an intense, unsettling gaze. Although his stare was sharpand deadly, he curved his lips into a cold smile before moving his hand aside and placing the wedding chain around her neck. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, his voice like poison wrapped in silk.

"You’ll soon learn how a man handles his bride… my bride. I still don’t know how to handle her, but for now, I’m handling her as a substitute."

Hearing this, Jhankar immediately placed her hand on his chest and tried to push him away, hatred burning in her eyes. However, he firmly grasped her wrist, and the realization dawned on her once more: this man was holding her parents captive. She froze. Quietly, she withdrew her hand and sat back down. Her eyes filled with tears, and they began to stream down her cheeks, silently.

Vikrant, on the other hand, looked triumphantly toward his business and business competitors, who were observing everything with curiosity and skepticism, especially his father's political competitors. Their expressions shifted when they noticed that Viren and his wife had performed the kanyadaan (the symbolic act of giving the bride away) like true parents, confirming that this girl must indeed be their daughter. No one had ever seen Viren’s daughters before. In mafia families, daughters were usually kept hidden to protect them from public eyes and rivalries. But seeing the way Viren and his wife conducted the ritual made it clear that the girl hadn’t run away from the wedding. Something else had caused the delay.

Vikrant's gaze then shifted to Sharda, who had been silently watching him throughout. Her eyes were dry , completely devoid of tears, but her gaze was full of silent accusation. Vikrant found it increasingly difficult to meet her eyes, knowing all too well what she was trying to say without uttering a single word. Still,he comforted himself with the thought that once they returned home, he would explain everything to her, because Sharda understood him like no one else.

After the wedding concluded, they quietly sent Jhankar to a room. The rest of the guests immersed themselves in the celebration. As Vikrant kept himself engaged with the guests, Sharda entered Jhankar’s room and stood silently, watching her. Jhankar was still crying endlessly, hopelessly, helplessly. Her entire soul was soaked in pain and fear. Seeing her cry like that, Sharda lowered her gaze and turned away, leaving the room without saying a word.

The wedding ended, the guests departed, and hours passed. Jhankar’s tears had dried only because her body had exhausted itself from crying. Then, a few men approached and stood before her.

"Let’s go..."