Page 6 of Substitute Bride

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 sharp and 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..."

As soon as Jhankar noticed the people around her, she immediately stood up and began searching for her parents.

She was certain that if she agreed to everything Vikrant said, he would at least let her see them once.

But she found nothing. No trace of them.

And as her anxiety began to spike, she was suddenly grabbed roughly by the arm.

The man holding her began to drag her away, his grip painful and cruel.

“I want to meet my parents. I don’t want to hear anything else.”

She said firmly, trying to resist. But the man ignored her completely and kept dragging her forward.

A black car pulled up beside them. The man yanked the door open and pushed her inside.

Jhankar had no choice but to accept the force.

She didn’t scream or struggle anymore. All she wanted now was to meet her parents, to confirm they were alive, and to know they were safe.

Her thoughts briefly went to Vyom, but her biggest fear was what this man, this monster, would do if he ever found her brother.

She knew Vikrant wouldn’t spare Vyom easily.

After a long, silent drive, the car finally stopped outside a massive bungalow.

She looked at it, her eyes scanning the imposing structure.

Just then, the door opened and another man appeared.

He grabbed her arm even tighter than the first and shoved her forward.

She stumbled and fell, landing with a painful thud on the ground.

Her gaze dropped to the shiny black shoes in front of her, she recognized these shoes.

She didn’t even look up before saying, her voice cracking with emotion:

“I did what you asked. You asked me to sit in the wedding pavilion, to pretend to be that man’s daughter, and I did it. I married you quietly. Now I need to meet my parents. I don’t care about anything else.”

Vikrant, who had been trying for hours to keep his fury in check, felt something inside him snap. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stand, his eyes ablaze with a fire that could burn down empires.

“Do you think the situation is some kind of joke?” he hissed, voice low and deadly.

“Do you think this is a Hollywood film where everything ends happily? Your brother ran away with my bride. He thought I wouldn’t find them.

Let me tell you something, pray that they aren’t found.

Because if Sonakshi’s father gets to them first, God help them.

And if I get to your brother first, he won’t live, and he won’t die.

He’ll beg for death, but I won’t give him that luxury. ”

Jhankar stood frozen. She knew now, beyond any doubt, that this man had no humanity left. He was a storm waiting to destroy everything in his path. Still, she gathered her courage and spoke again, her voice trembling.

“I want to meet my parents. They weren’t well... I’m begging you, please let me know how they are. I just want to see them once.”

Vikrant looked at her. Her plea, her helplessness, everything about her ignited a strange frustration inside him.

He was unable to tolerate opposition, especially after a group of ordinary people had completely upended his world.

He felt anger towards himself, frustration with the situation, and even greater confusion because he couldn't fully comprehend his emotions. He gave her a twisted smile and said,

“How about you meet your parents tomorrow… in hell?”

The thought of her parents being harmed sent a shockwave through Jhankar. Rage overtook her. Without hesitation, she grabbed his collar and shouted,

“If you even think of touching my parents, I swear I will kill you.”

For Vikrant, this was the final straw. A girl, an ordinary girl, dared to touch him, dared to threaten him? He wanted to hit her. He had never raised a hand against a woman, not even the ones who were part of rival mafia families. But this… this was too much.

Still, he remembered Sharda. She had always told him, Never harm an innocent person, and never use your strength against someone weaker.

He clenched his fist and raised his hand, but before the slap could land, he saw her—Sharda—standing there, her eyes brimming with silent tears.

His hand froze mid-air. He shut his eyes tightly, ashamed.

But Jhankar had already seen everything.

She realized he was going to hit her. And before he could recover from his hesitation, she tore her hand from his grip and slapped him across the face with all her strength.

Stunned, Vikrant slowly turned toward her, his expression unreadable.

Then, without a word, he grabbed her wrist, digging his nails into her skin, and began dragging her away.

Sharda just stood there, watching in silence.

She didn’t say a word. She didn’t stop him.

She only watched Vikrant disappear from her sight.

Vikrant dragged Jhankar across the garden to a secluded area. Her voice echoed through the air.

“Leave me, you bastard… Let go of me, you monster!”

With a violent kick, he opened a small room’s door, shoved her inside, and slammed it shut. The room was pitch dark. Jhankar’s fear consumed her. She screamed, banging her fists against the door.

“Let me out! I want to meet my parents! Please open the door!”

But Vikrant had no patience left to hear anything.

His rage was overflowing, and the only person who could calm him, Sharda, was waiting for him.

He turned back and walked toward the garden where she stood.

Behind her, Ravindra was quietly watching everything unfold.

For Ravindra, this wedding was nothing more than a public farce.

He was angry with himself; he had forced Vikrant into marriage even though he wasn’t ready.

And now, Sonakshi had run away. The shame of it all burned him from within.

Vikrant approached and stood before his father, saying nothing.

Ravindra, understanding everything in his silence, sighed deeply and spoke.

“When she went to the parlor, she had already fled. We found out almost six hours later that she hadn’t returned.

Everyone assumed she came back with the driver and was resting.

She was always so fussy about her makeup; she wanted everything perfect.

But the truth is, she played us all. Her father is searching everywhere, but she has vanished.

And the boy she ran away with… he must have planned everything.

Anyway, I’m certain that once they run out of money, they’ll be forced to come out of hiding. ”

Vikrant, furious, smashed a nearby statue and ran his hand through his hair. His voice was low but laced with fury.

“It’s very hard…”