Page 11 of Entangled Vows (Destined Diaries #2)

If someone had asked Vikram what nightclubs were good for, he’d have said overpriced drinks, pretty women, and a whole lot of regret. That had been his life until he’d moved to Dehradun to manage the family business. He was done with that phase of his life.

Yet, standing under the flashing of strobe lights and the pulsing music tonight, he realised nightclubs offered something else too: a noisy, chaotic distraction that provided a temporary escape from reality.

Verve, the town’s most sought-after club, was JK Group’s crown jewel.

It was swanky, exclusive, and perched dramatically on a cliff that overlooked the valley below.

It’s rooftop bar was insane, the view alone worth far more than the price of entry.

It was a spot designed for dreamy diversions and pricey getaways.

The music throbbed loud and clear. Laughter and flirtation filled the air like a delicate perfume. Everything glowed in the warm, golden light, making every surface shimmer. Vikram sat in a dimly lit corner booth, his thoughts loud enough to show on his face.

With a light grip, he lifted the whiskey glass to his mouth.

The liquid burned its way down his throat…

the only burn he wanted that night. But even that couldn’t touch the cold ache lodged deep in his chest. It couldn’t silence the thoughts spiralling in his mind, a storm that refused to pass, drumming hard against his skull.

His friends were their usual selves, but he could feel their eyes on him. Arjun leaned back, his movements relaxed as he swirled his drink slowly, stealing glances at Vikram. He was worried, but played it cool.

Adil seemed just as relaxed, though his gaze kept drifting to Vikram’s face, noticing the fading bruise even in the dim light. Across the table sat Vaayu and Kabir, nursing their drinks and looking worried, like they had a million unspoken questions on their minds.

It had been three weeks since that disastrous meeting with Mr. Rao.

Back then, Vikram had given his friends the shorter version of his life’s mess…

just enough to stop the endless personal questions.

All he wanted from them was silence, not their pity.

But what he got instead was a series of robust backslaps and bear hugs, as if those could magically solve his life’s problems.

And now, here they were, crammed into a booth at the club, pretending this was just another guy’s night out, as if a few hours of forced distraction could blunt the knife of this responsibility on him.

The women had chosen the saner route, retreating to the resort for a night of calm with poolside drinks, a sauna session, and some much-needed peace.

“So,” Arjun finally said, breaking the silence. “Are you going to tell us what happened, or are we supposed to guess why your face looks like you went ten rounds with a heavyweight?”

Vikram ran a hand over his jaw, the faint bruise still tender beneath his touch. “Like I told you, Mohit decked me.”

Adil sighed warily. “Start from the beginning.”

Vikram dragged a hand down his face, his frustration clear as he recounted everything—from the events of that day to the hidden clause that Mr. Rao had revealed. By the time he finished, his friends were all shaking their heads in disbelief.

“So let me get this straight,” Vaayu said, exasperation dripping from his voice.

“Your father left everything to you, both the Khurana Empire and the JK Group. Suraj must have got wind of it, and after years of busting his ass trying to prove himself, he must have finally realised the position would never be his. So, in a fit of rage, he walked away, leaving you to clear the mess. He didn’t give a damn about the business, your father’s illness, or anyone else.

And now, you are the one stuck with the business you never wanted, and a marriage that came with it. ”

“Pretty much sums it up,” Vikram replied flatly. “What I don’t understand is why my father left it all to me. Suraj was the one who stayed, who put in the years, who worked hard. He was the one everyone expected to take over. It was an obvious choice.”

“But Vicky, I read the fine print you sent Arjun,” Adil said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

“The will clearly says Khurana heir. Heir doesn’t mean the most capable son; it means the eldest by birth.

That’s how inheritance works, in both law and in legacy.

You were always meant to inherit the business and marry Mahika. Suraj was never even in the running.”

“Exactly,” Kabir said with a grin. “Adil’s always knee-deep in legal jargon. Nothing gets past him.”

A heavy silence settled over the table before Vaayu muttered, “Damn. So Suraj walked away thinking he’d made some grand sacrifice... when, in reality, it was never his to begin with.”

Vikram had never seen it that way. What Adil said was the unvarnished truth. And now, for the first time, he found himself wondering why Suraj had really left.

“I’m only clarifying this so…” Adil paused, glancing at Vikram, “…so our friend here doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

Vikram frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Adil shrugged. “Because when you do fall for your wife, I don’t ever want you, even for a second, thinking you weren’t meant to be with her. I’ve told you before, Vicky… even the smallest crack of doubt can mess everything up.”

The table went quiet for a beat, the tension hovering like smoke… until Kabir let out a low whistle. “Damn. Adil, we had no idea you were moonlighting as a love guru.”

Adil flipped him off right away, and everyone burst out laughing.

Vaayu snorted. “No offense, Vick, but your dad might have been even crazier than ours. Just ask Adil.”

Adil grinned. “V has a point.”

Vikram rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, everyone, for listening and for the advice. But I’m not so sure about love. Mahika and I... we’re like oil and water. We just don’t get along.”

“What about Mahika, though? Is she taking this well? And Mohit?” Arjun asked.

Vikram gave a forced laugh. “Not even close. Mohit just threw punches at me instead of talking. Then she stormed out after we ironed out the terms of the marriage between us, and now we’re getting married in two days!”

Kabir smirked. “Marriage, man. That’s not small. That’s life-changing shit.”

“It’s only for a year, Bira,” Vikram reasoned, his tone sharp and pragmatic, each word precise like a hammer strike. “Mahika gets what she always wanted, and I save the family business. By the time the ink dries on our contract, the Khurana and Jaykar empires will be untouchable.”

“And what if she catches feelings?” Vaayu raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“If’?” Vikram’s smirk was cocky.

Arjun scoffed, shaking his head. “What an arrogant jerk.”

Vikram shrugged. “What can I say? Women can’t resist me.”

A sly smile played on Arjun’s face. “Good God. It must be fucking exhausting, carrying that ego and the package you’re smuggling below the belt.”

Adil chuckled. “This brings back memories of Vicky being quite the heartthrob.”

Vikram’s “Fuck off” made the table erupt in laughter.

“So, Mohit decked you, huh?” Arjun said, trying not to laugh.

Vikram rubbed his jaw, as if he could still feel the imprint of Mohit’s fist, and muttered, “That bastard. He came in blazing like I’d kidnapped his sister. I knew he would be angry. He’s very protective of her. But I didn’t expect him to punch me in the face like that.”

“Yeah, man. Vicky’s face is his asset,” Vaayu said with a grin.

“Not the face, bro… the real asset is what he’s hiding below the belt,” Kabir added, winking.

Vikram leaned back, his eyes narrowing. “One more genius comment like that, and I swear I’ll aim my next kick… strategically.”

“Easy there, dude. We’re just trying to keep up with the legend that is Vikram Khurana.” Adil smirked, then leaned forward. “But what about Mahika? I bet she must’ve wanted to strangle her father—well, if he weren’t already… you know, dead. Sorry.”

“She probably did,” Vikram muttered, refilling his glass. “But what choice did she have? Either play along or be ready to walk away with nothing but the clothes in her bag.”

“Why on earth would her father do that to her?” Vaayu asked, genuinely concerned.

Vikram didn’t mince words. “He was a chauvinistic asshole. He never treated Mohit or me like that, but Mahika… We saw how he treated her. Yes, he loved her in his own twisted way, but his ego always outweighed his affection. In his eyes, her gender made her unworthy. The more she challenged him, the angrier he got. I never thought he’d take it this far, forcing her to marry me, or anyone else.

He was always fond of shocking people. But this time, he really crossed the line. ”

“What happens after marriage? You pretend to like each other for the next one year?” Vaayu sounded very sceptical.

“Yeah,” Vikram sighed. “Shouldn’t be too hard. It’s not that she’s a bad person. Nothing like that. She’s just… incredibly infuriating.”

Arjun, who had been sitting quietly until now, leaned forward with a knowing grin. “Yeah, infuriating and gorgeous as hell, who drives Vikram absolutely crazy. Are you still pretending you’re not obsessed with each other? Or have we moved on to slow-burn eye-fucking and loaded silence?”

“What the fuck, dude?” Kabir exclaimed.

“Yes, guys. I think this marriage is going to be… very interesting for our friend, Vicky,” Arjun added with a smirk.

Vikram shot him a glare sharp enough to make most people back off. But this was Arjun.

“Shut it,” Vikram growled.

Kabir raised an eyebrow, catching on to the tension. “Wait… what are we missing here?”

Arjun shook his head, his grin widening as he gestured towards Vikram. “Oh, he hasn’t told you guys a thing, huh? Classic Vik.”

“There’s nothing to tell, you idiot,” Vikram snapped, his grip tightening around his glass.

Arjun laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “God, this is priceless.” He downed his drink in one go, his amusement earning a groan from Vikram.

“What the hell is going on?” Vaayu asked, his gaze darting between them.

Arjun leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Our dear Vikram here has had a massive crush on Mahika. For years.”

Vikram stiffened, his voice a low growl. “Shut the fuck up, Arjun.”

But the damage was done. Kabir let out a low whistle, and Vaayu burst out laughing.

“Oh, this just keeps getting better,” Adil said, shaking his head.

“Shut the fuck up, all of you,” Vikram muttered, though his flushed face only weakened his protests.

He downed his drink in one go and was ready to call it a night, when his eyes caught a movement near the bar. He turned his head, and legit froze. That was her. Mahika.

She looked nothing like the fragile, broken woman who had walked out of the building earlier.

She looked breathtaking, like a living whirlwind.

Her loose, wild hair gleamed in the light as she danced to the pounding beat of the music.

And that little dress she wore…Holyfuckingshit.

That was fucking killer on her body. It was a shimmering black number that hugged her every curve, a declaration of confidence and a magnetic allure that no man could ignore. Least of all him.

And then, there was the moronic asshat she was dancing with.

The guy was a walking disaster with zero concept of personal space.

His hands were all over her waist, their bodies swaying as if they were fused together.

It was as if the music had pulled them into their own damn bubble.

Mahika threw her head back, laughing at whatever idiotic thing the fool had said, her hand brushing his chest like it belonged there.

Vikram’s jaw clenched so hard it ached, and his fingers wrapped around the glass like a vice.

Jealousy slammed in his veins, sharp and unwelcome.

He wasn’t supposed to care or feel. He was Vikram Khurana: hardened, detached, controlled.

Not a fool, undone by a woman he was marrying out of obligation.

He fucking hated how she got under his skin.

One look from her, and it was like his entire system short-circuited.

He had spent years locking his emotions behind his cool facade, and she waltzed in like she owned him, tearing down every goddamn wall without even trying.

It pissed him off how much she affected him.

And the worst part… he couldn’t help it.

“Uh, Vicky?” Arjun’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You good, man?”

“She’s drunk,” Vikram said flatly, his voice as icy as the whiskey in his glass. Inside him, a fire roared, threatening to burn through his control.

“Who’s drunk?” Vaayu asked, leaning forward to follow Vikram’s glare. His eyes landed on Mahika. “You know her?”

Vikram’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker. “Yeah. That’s my fucking fiancée.”

The words landed like a thunderclap, silencing the table.

“That’s your fiancée?” Kabir asked, half in disbelief, half amused. “Well, if my fiancée were dancing like that with any man other than me—”

Vikram cut him off, his tone low and dangerous. “I’m going to put my fist through that bastard’s face.”

He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do, but he pushed his chair back with such force that it scraped loudly across the floor.

Each movement was tense, controlled only by the barely contained rage coursing through him.

Each stride was purposeful and intimidating, his sole focus to rip his fiancée away from the slimy hands of the asshole who thought he could get away with touching her.