Page 5 of Substitute Bride

brIDE RUN AWAY

PAST EVENT

Sharda stood with a glowing smile as she performed Vikrant’s aarti. She gently applied a vermilion forehead mark, kissed him lovingly, and whispered with joy,

“Today I feel like I’ve received all the happiness in the world. I just want to see you smiling forever, my son.”

Vikrant gave her a faint smile, filled with restrained emotion.

His eyes lingered on her, his Sharda Maa.

With her, he felt peace. While his birth mother, Sonia, existed only in title, Sharda was the only mother he ever recognized, the only one who ever loved him without asking for anything in return.

He had long forgotten Sonia’s face, but Sharda’s presence had filled every corner of his life with affection and warmth. Her love was not loud; it was protective, quiet, and all-encompassing. For Vikrant Sharda, she is both his mother and home, a peaceful home.

As the wedding procession began moving, Vikrant watched Sharda dance joyfully with the others, occasionally glancing back at him with a radiant smile.

Every time she did, his lips curled into a subtle smile, a rare expression from a man so feared.

When they reached the grand marriage hall, Vikrant took his seat under the decorated canopy.

His expressions were unreadable, and though he sat calmly, he could feel something was off.

The bride was late, too late. He scanned the crowd.

His sharp eyes noticed that no one from the bride’s side was visible, and whispers started to fill the air.

“Why is the bride taking so long to come?”

“I don’t think she’s going to show up. Maybe she never agreed to this marriage.”

“It was a political match. They must’ve forced her. The wedding’s just a formality.”

“The groom’s a mafia don. Maybe the girl got scared.”

These murmurs, though hushed, were loud enough to reach Vikrant.

And louder still was the thud in his heart when he saw Sharda’s smile start to fade.

He pulled out his phone and called Ravindra.

At that very moment, Ravindra stood with Viren outside the bride’s room.

A letter trembled in his hand; he uttered these words with difficulty.

SONAKSHI HAD RUN AWAY.

In the letter, she had written that she couldn’t marry Vikrant. She loved Vyom, her father’s employee, and she had eloped with him. Ravindra answered Vikrant’s call, his voice heavy.

“Son, Sonakshi has run away... she loves someone else.”

Vikrant’s grip on the phone tightened. His eyes flicked toward Sharda, whose joy was now dissolving into tears. Around him, people continued their low whispers:

“So the girl actually ran away from him…”

“What a mafia king he is—couldn’t even hold on to a bride.”

“I guess fear doesn't win hearts, after all.”

Vikrant ignored them. All he saw was Sharda's heartbreak, and all he heard was the crumbling of his reputation and her dreams. Then, Viren arrived with Ravindra. Before he could even finish his apology.

“Forgive me, Sonakshi has run away, but…”

Vikrant turned his gaze past him. His greatest mafia rival stood there, grinning smugly. With mockery dripping from his tone, the man sneered.

“Well, well… So the great Vikrant Dhanraj's bride ran away before even seeing his face. Tell me, do you still deserve the crown of the underworld? If you can’t handle a woman, how will you handle a kingdom?”

Vikrant immediately grabs the man's collar, his eyes burning with rage as he stares into his soul and speaks with quiet menace.

"Whoever my bride is, you need not concern yourself with when she arrives or whether she shows up at all. It’s my wedding, and I will decide everything about it.

You’ve been called here only to enjoy the celebration, so do exactly that.

Because the wedding will happen today… whether anyone likes it or not.

Just wait for me. My bride is unwell currently; we’re allowing her some rest. I will arrive with her in a few hours. "

Without missing a single glance, Vikrant swiftly leaves the pavilion, his long strides brimming with strength and urgency. Ravindra and Viren swiftly follow, their faces tense with unease.

SCENE ENDS

Elsewhere, the boy has gripped both of Jhankar’s wrists so tightly, trapping her hands with such precision and dominance that she cannot even think of escaping.

She stares at him closely now, scrutinizing every inch of his face.

She has noticed that face countless times in newspapers, on television, and in breaking news segments.

Her breath catches in her throat as realization dawns.

He is VIKRANT DHANRAJ.

But why is he here? Why in her house?

Before she can unravel the chaos around her, confusion grips her. She cannot comprehend what these men are doing here or what they're accusing her family of, and then, as if struck by lightning, the words hit her, her brother has run away with a girl.

Shock overtakes her. This is unthinkable.

Her brother? Her best friend? He has never hidden anything from her.

They've never had secrets. He’s always shared everything, his thoughts, his joys, even his mischief but never once has he spoken of a girl, let alone confessed love.

The boy tightens his grip cruelly around her wrists, leaning in closer until their faces are nearly touching. His voice is venomous.

"Where the hell is your bastard brother?"

Jhankar struggles to form a response, still in disbelief and unaware of the full gravity of the situation.

All she understands is that these men have severely injured her parents.

Her eyes dart towards her father, who lies nearby, coughing violently, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth.

But before she can move, Vikrant forcefully grabs her jaw, turning her face back towards him with a jerk.

"Your brother ran away with my would-be bride. He must have told you where they went. If you care even a little for your family’s safety, then speak now. Where is he? Come on, open that pretty little mouth of yours."

The words hit Jhankar like a whip. It’s suddenly clear, Vikrant was supposed to marry a girl named Sonakshi, but she has disappeared, and they think her brother is responsible.

Still, something doesn’t add up. Why would her brother elope with that girl?

Why is her name being linked with him? She refuses to believe anything bad about her brother without proof.

Fury wells up inside her. Her parents are in pain—her world is burning—because of these men. In a burst of rage, she raises her leg and strikes Vikrant hard between the legs. As he recoils in pain, she tears her hands free, punches him square in the face, and screams:

"If your bride has run away, what the hell does that have to do with my brother or my family? If you have questions, go find her! Why are you torturing us?"

It is the first time someone has ever touched Vikrant like that.

And that too, this girl is so slender, so small, so deceptively delicate.

He had underestimated her. He hadn’t used his full strength; he just wanted to scare her a little.

But she took advantage of that, and now his fury knows no limits.

His bloodshot eyes darken with uncontrollable rage.

He lunges forward, yanks her hair savagely, jerks her head back toward him, and growls:

"Your family is being tortured because Sonakshi ran away with your brother. Do you hear me? With your brother… When he disgraced us in front of the world, when he ran off with the bride at the last moment, your entire family earned this fate."

Viren, Sonakshi’s father, burning with rage and humiliation, is beyond reason.

His pride shredded, he picks up a heavy statue, eyes blazing with violent intent.

With a cry of fury, he raises it high, aiming it directly at Raghunath’s head.

Jhankar turns her eyes and, in a flash, sees it all. Her blood turns to ice.

”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.