Page 7 of Substitute Bride

DARKNESS

"She won't run out of money because I transferred nearly one crore rupees from my account to hers yesterday so she could buy the jewelry she wanted. I assumed she’d be making the payment, which is why I didn’t question her... especially since you wanted me to treat her with special consideration."

Ravindra, filled with seething anger, clenches his jaw tightly and fixes a piercing gaze on Sharda, who stands calmly before him.

Vikrant may be indifferent to the money itself, but his fury stems from the public insult Sonakshi inflicted upon him.

She tried to humiliate him in front of the entire world, and that’s something his ego and authority simply cannot tolerate.

Vikrant walks over and silently hugs Sharda, holding onto her as if grounding his emotions through her.

But even as he embraces her, his voice reveals the storm within.

"Maa, don’t worry about anything. Just go inside and get some rest... All women are betrayed... I will come soon."

Sharda gently but firmly pulls away from his arms and speaks in a trembling yet determined voice.

"Please refrain from calling me Maa from now on."

As soon as Sharda utters these words, Vikrant instantly withdraws, staring at her with wide, stunned eyes.

Ravindra, too, is taken aback. He knows the depth of the bond Sharda shares with Vikrant.

She has always considered him her greatest blessing, her pride, her wealth, and her only ray of happiness in life.

For Sharda to say something like this… even jokingly…

would be unthinkable. And now, with such serious emotion behind her words, it feels like something inside Vikrant shatters.

As though stabbed by her words, Vikrant immediately holds Sharda’s hand and speaks, his voice heavy with desperation.

"Maa, what are you saying? I know you're upset with me because…"

Sharda raises her palm in a gesture to silence him. Her eyes, filled with tears and heartbreak, lock with his.

"That girl ran away from the wedding altar and betrayed you, yes. But instead of mourning that betrayal, you should be grateful she did it before the marriage. At least she didn’t come to your house, win your heart, and then deceive you.

If that had happened, you wouldn’t have been able to bear it.

Not just yours, but three lives would’ve been destroyed.

All you lost was money… and one crore means nothing to you. But what did you do in return?"

She steps a little closer, her voice trembling but steely.

"You dragged an innocent girl from her home. Her only fault is that she’s the sister of the man your runaway bride chose to escape with.

You needed a substitute… an object… to showcase your power and pride.

You wanted the world to know that you are not just the head of the mafia but someone who always fulfills his word, no matter the cost. You wanted to send a message that no one dares to insult you without consequences.

And in the process, you punished that girl and her entire family. "

Vikrant looks away, jaw tightened, eyes narrowing with conflicted rage and helplessness.

"Maa, because of her brother, our entire reputation was about to be destroyed. You have to understand … I couldn’t let that happen under any circumstance."

Sharda's lips tighten, and for the first time, her eyes burn with fury. She walks closer, speaking with a deliberate calm that masks the storm brewing within her.

"Viren Chandel's daughter ran away from his house. This was not your shame. Marriage wasn’t your dream… It was your father's. You were going through with it out of duty, not love... The world is full of wagging tongues. They’ll talk regardless of what you do. But what did you do? You kidnapped an innocent girl and forced her into marriage. And why? Just to prove that you’re still in control?

That your pride and ego remain untouched? "

She chokes back a sob but continues speaking with painful determination.

"You are Vikrant Dhanraj. You can do anything you want. But today, seeing what you've become, I feel like crying. Because you are no longer the Vikrant I raised with love and dreams... you're just the mafia don the world fears."

"Maa, look, you’re unwell. We’ll talk later… after some rest. Maybe then you’ll understand my reasons. I swear, I haven’t done anything wrong."

Sharda looks at him long and hard, her eyes filled with sorrow and disbelief.

"That is your biggest mistake, Vikrant… You believe that you're incapable of wrongdoing simply because you're used to power. I forgave all your misdeeds before the marriage… your anger when your bride fled, your obsession with your father’s legacy, and your desperate need to maintain your image as a mafia king.

I understood that your pride was shattered and your rage was uncontrollable.

You did what you thought was right in that moment, and I made peace with that. "

Vikrant is staring at her now, almost pleading for her to stop, but she doesn’t.

"But after marriage… After tying that sacred knot with full rituals, that girl became your wife…. Your wife, Vikrant…. Do you understand what it means to have a wife? Her pride, her dignity, her protection, her life—all of it became your responsibility. And what have you done? You’ve violated every vow you took.

Even now, your men drag her around like an animal, manhandle her right before your eyes, and you let it happen. "

Ravindra lowers his gaze, ashamed of the truth she’s speaking. Sharda’s voice becomes heavier, her body trembling with emotion, yet she doesn’t stop. Vikrant was stunned by her words.

"I never taught you to speak harshly to a woman.

You reserve your gentle words only for me, but in the world outside, you're someone else entirely… You are no longer my Viku… You are Vikrant Dhanraj, the mafia don who doesn’t even respect the sanctity of marriage.

You let your men disrespect your wife. You let them touch her.

You allow them to speak to her in ways that are demeaning and cruel.

You are silent when you should roar. You act like her enemy, not her protector. "

She takes a deep breath and delivers her final blow.

"And today, you’ve shown me what I truly mean to you … nothing."

After listening to Sharda, Vikrant stands still, his eyes locked onto her tear-streaked face.

The sight of pain in her eyes pierces through his heart like a dagger.

He tries to move towards her, hoping to offer some support, to hold her hand again, but Sharda immediately takes a step back.

Her trembling hand rests on her chest as her breathing grows labored.

“The pain you’ve given me today... It's so unbearable that I feel like dying right now. And I want you to witness my death so that you finally understand what a grave mistake you've made.”

As soon as Vikrant hears those words and sees her clutching her chest, his heart drops.

Panic grips him as he rushes toward her.

Sharda’s breathing becomes increasingly shallow and erratic.

Her hand presses harder against her chest, and the terror in her eyes grows.

Within moments, it becomes painfully obvious to both Vikrant and Ravindra—she's having a heart attack.

Without wasting another second, they rush to support her. Ravindra holds her shoulders while Vikrant scoops her into his arms, yelling for the car. Together, they rush outside, fear gripping every inch of their bodies.

~~~~

He grabs her hand with force and pushes her into the room.

Jhankar stumbles slightly but manages to regain her footing.

Before she can even process what’s happening, Vikrant slams the door shut behind her.

The room plunges into absolute darkness.

A suffocating, terrifying kind of darkness.

She spins around and begins pounding on the door with her fists, her voice trembling with desperation.

"Open the door... Open the door..."

But there's no response.

"Papa... Mom... please... open the door..."

Her cries echo through the silence. No one is there to hear her. Fear crawls up her spine like ice. This kind of darkness is so absolute and heavy that it drains the air from the room. She lets out a heart-wrenching scream, her voice cracking from panic.

"Open the door... Papa... Mom, please..."

She tries to make out shapes in the blackness, her eyes straining, but there is nothing—only this oppressive void. Jhankar, who may be brave in daylight, has always been terrified of the dark and of isolation. Her chest begins to tighten; her breaths come in jagged, panicked gasps.

"Papa... Mom..."

No answer.

The silence is louder than any noise. She begins stepping back slowly, carefully, when suddenly, a sensation strikes.

As if something moved beneath her. Her heart lurches.

She lets out a blood-curdling scream and begins running blindly in all directions.

Her arms stretch out to feel for walls or furniture, but there’s only the unknown.

In her panic, she loses her footing and crashes to the ground, her head hitting the cold floor with a sickening thud. Everything fades into stillness. She falls unconscious.

~~~

By now, night has turned to morning. But there has been no word from the doctors.

Vikrant is pacing relentlessly outside the operation theater.

He hasn’t sat down for even a moment. His eyes, bloodshot and restless, keep drifting toward the thick, frosted glass of the OT door.

He presses his face to it, trying desperately to catch even the faintest glimpse inside. But it's no use.

Ravindra watches his son from a distance, helpless.

He has never seen Vikrant like this so anxious, so shattered, so utterly broken.

The great mafia king now looks like a boy whose entire world rests on the other side of that door.

As hour after hour slips by in silence, Vikrant starts to unravel.

He suddenly charges at the door, banging on it with both fists.

"Open the door! What are the doctors doing inside? It's been seven hours! My mother is there, and no one is saying anything!"

Ravindra immediately rushes to restrain him, trying to pull him away, but Vikrant’s desperation turns to madness. He pushes his father’s hand aside and continues pounding on the door. His voice rises in rage and anguish.

"Someone open this damn door! What the hell is going on in there?!"

The bodyguards rush to intervene, trying to calm him down, but Vikrant throws them off with violent resistance. His fury has reached a boiling point. Just then, the door opens. A doctor steps out. Before he can say anything, Vikrant grabs his collar and slams him against the wall.

"You kept my mother inside for seven hours and said nothing… Do you have any idea what I’m going through?… What happened to my mother?!"

"Please, sir... calm down..."

The hospital staff stands frozen in fear.

This is Vikrant Dhanraj’s hospital, one of his white-collar charities, kept clean of illegal operations.

It’s known across the city for having the most qualified doctors.

Although Vikrant uses the hospital to launder money and cover his mafia fronts, he never allows any criminal activity to occur within its premises.

He refuses to engage in organ trafficking, exploitation, or any violation of ethics within its walls. Here, he allows his conscience to rest.

“Sir,” the doctor begins, voice trembling, “when Madam was brought in, her condition was critical. Her heartbeat had nearly stopped. We had to work intensely just to stabilize her vitals before attempting the operation. If we hadn’t, the surgery would have failed.”

Vikrant's grip tightens, his breathing harsh. The doctor continues cautiously.

“Once she was stabilized, we began the procedure and successfully completed the operation. Another specialist will soon update you in more detail. But please, for your mother’s sake, stop causing a disturbance.

The other doctors are still inside. They need to concentrate.

Your mother is not out of danger yet, but if we’re disrupted again, her condition could worsen. ”

Vikrant breathes heavily, then finally releases the doctor’s collar. He turns away and drags both hands down his face, trying to calm the storm within. The doctor watches, still tense. Vikrant turns back, eyes calmer but voice firm.

“You don’t have to try explaining again. I understand. I just want my mother safe. Completely safe…. That’s all I want… And I promise... you won’t hear another sound from me.”

He gently places his hand on the doctor’s shoulder, his voice softer now.

“Just bring me the news I’m waiting for... that my mother is awake... and calling me inside.”

The doctor nods, visibly relieved. Saying no to a man like Vikrant would be an invitation to death itself.

Without another word, Vikrant pushes the doctor gently back into the OT and closes the door behind him.

For the first time in hours, a faint, almost broken smile touches Vikrant’s lips. A smile born not of happiness but hope.