Page 9 of Entangled Vows (Destined Diaries #2)

Three Weeks Later

Happiness and freedom were the rarest luxuries in the world, and Mahika knew that better than most. Although she had money, privilege, and a supposedly perfect life, freedom eluded her.

It had disappeared three weeks earlier, the moment she signed the wedding agreement with Vikram, and it was enough to make her lose it.

She needed someone to talk to, but no one was around.

She’d messaged Suraj more times than she cared to admit, every text still sitting there with a single tick, unread and unanswered.

Her other bestie, Ishika, always knew how to calm her, but she’d been away for almost a month, touring with a musician as part of a work assignment.

She had no idea Mahika was about to marry Grizzly Khurana.

And when she found out, she was totally going to kill her.

Mahika could’ve called or texted, but this wasn’t the kind of news you gave over a message. It needed two pints of ice cream, the spiciest momos in town, and a long night of venting.

On top of that, things at the office had been tense.

A considerable amount of money had gone missing from the company’s finances.

Vikram’s irritation grew by the day, and he took it out on anyone and everyone, while Mohit only made things worse by being just as bad-tempered.

Mahika had seen Vikram lose it in a meeting and then watched two employees walk out of the conference room, visibly upset.

Ever since Mohit had punched Vikram, things were never quite right between them. They seemed civil now, or at least, they pretended to be.

She carefully avoided Vikram, preferring silence to his unpredictable temper.

Amidst the chaos of the past few weeks, one thing had finally gone right. The business had stabilised. Vikram hadn’t contacted her, except for one terse message a last night: The wedding is in two days at the registrar’s.

After that, there was complete silence. And honestly, she didn’t mind it.

She had spoken to her mother once. The conversation was cool, polite, bordering on robotic.

Her mother had told her that this was Mahika’s opportunity to take charge of her life and carve out her own happiness.

So typical. Mahika had nearly rolled her eyes.

Whatever this was, it certainly wasn’t happiness.

Still, the disappointment stung. She felt so let down. Not that she had expected more. Maybe it was because her heart was just foolish. It kept hoping, and it kept breaking, especially when it came to her parents.

She pushed the thoughts aside as the elevator doors slid open.

The day was finally over, and she was bone-tired.

With her bag slung over one shoulder, Mahika stepped into the dimly lit corridor and headed towards the parking lot.

It was so quiet in the lot at this hour that her footsteps echoed loudly in the space.

The phone in her hand buzzed. It was an unknown number. Again.

She froze, her stomach tightening with dread.

This had been going on for a year now. She received a barrage of calls from private numbers.

Not just one or two, but an endless stream.

At first, she dismissed it as spam or a glitch in the system.

But they kept coming, more frequently now.

Truecaller, usually reliable, couldn’t identify any of those calls. The spam filter was useless.

She tried ignoring them. However, if she didn’t answer, the phone would ring again. And again. And again. And when she finally answered, she was met with a heavy silence. No crackle, no static. Just an eerie silence, as if someone was listening on the other end and doing it deliberately.

She gulped, her thumb hovering over the screen when her phone buzzed again. It was that mystery number again.

This time, she answered, sounding super annoyed. “Hello?”

Again, she was met with dead silence, a really weird kind that felt cold and almost intentional.

Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to listen harder, straining for any sound of breathing or background noise, anything to give her a clue about the caller.

But she couldn’t hear a thing. It was almost like the person knew how to mute everything but his presence.

Her skin prickled, and she instinctively turned to look around, a chill crawling down her spine as if someone was watching her.

With trembling fingers, she ended the call and shoved the phone into her bag.

That was it. If this happened again, she was going to the police.

She took a step and froze when a voice cut through the corridor behind her.

“Mahika?”

She spun around. It was Mohit.

“Mahi, wait. Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

She just shrugged, unable to form a single word.

He stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and gentle. The kind of touch that made the world feel safe. A big brother’s touch.

“What do you need?” he asked softly. “Just tell me.”

His voice was so soothing, so full of concern that it cracked something in her. She was no longer the girl trying so hard to hold herself together. In that moment, she was just Mahika. Overwhelmed, insecure, and scared.

Like when they were kids, when things were tough at home, he’d always been there for her. He was her anchor, her safe place.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Alcohol. I need alcohol. A lot.”

“Are you serious? Alcohol?” The question came again, quieter now, tinged with worry.

“If you were me, you’d have done it too. I’m getting married in two days, Mo. I’m freaking out, but at the same time, my mind keeps telling me... it’s fine. It’s only a year, right? No big deal.”

Mohit’s jaw clenched as he glanced at her, looking both annoyed and gentle. “Mahi, it is a massive deal.”

She clutched the strap of her mauve-pink Fendi bag, twisting it between her fingers to stop herself from breaking down.

“Did Mom say anything?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Nope,” Mohit replied, his voice tight. “She’s just... not into anything lately.”

Mahika pursed her lips and snapped. “She’s battled depression forever, but she’s never sought help.

When was the last time she went to therapy, or took anything besides sleeping pills to deal with this?

” Mahika’s voice cracked. “I’m not trying to be mean, but she’s never supported us, has she? Not me, at least.”

She choked up, trying not to cry, but her eyes stung. “She never did a single thing that a mother is supposed to do for her daughter. Not one thing.”

“Mahi...” Mohit’s voice softened, caught off guard by her outburst. He hadn’t expected her to explode like that.

Her voice lowered, sounding hurtful than mad. “Seriously, what kind of mother lets her daughter throw her life away in a marriage she doesn’t even want?” Her lips quivered, tears trailing down her cheeks. “Mo… she didn’t stop it. Didn’t even utter a word. Not one goddamn word.”

“Mahi,” Mohit murmured, hugging her close. “You’re not okay.”

“I have to go,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a desperate edge. “I need to get drunk. Completely, recklessly drunk.”

Mohit said nothing, just grabbed the bag off her shoulder and slung it over his like he’d done it a million times.

“You got it, sis,” he murmured, his voice a low promise. “So, if getting hammered is what you need right now, I’m game. Let’s go.”

His words were simple, but the way he said them, with a fierce protectiveness, made her shoulders sag in relief. In that moment, his love and support were all she needed to remind her that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she thought.