In the small, dimly lit room, Avantika had squeezed herself into the corner behind the old wooden almira. She pressed both hands tightly over her mouth, trying desperately to muffle her sobs so he wouldn’t hear her. Her body shook with silent fear.

Vikram stepped inside slowly, enjoying the hunt. His heavy footsteps echoed softly on the worn floor. He moved deliberately, like a predator who had all the time in the world. As he came closer, he could see the edge of her dark red lehenga. Then her trembling form.

He stopped right in front of her.

Her large hazel eyes, framed by thick black kajal that had smudged from crying, looked up at him. Even wet with tears, they were strikingly beautiful — deep, innocent, and full of raw terror. For five to seven long minutes, Vikram simply stared. He was completely lost in those eyes.

She kept her hands pressed over her mouth, hiding the lower half of her face.

In a low, dark, cold voice he ordered,

“Apne haath hatao, dulhaniya. Apne Raja ji ko muh toh dekhne do.”

Avantika didn’t move. She was frozen in place, paralyzed by fear.

She was trembling so badly in front of me. So small. So beautiful.

I had seen many beautiful eyes in my life, but hers… they completely captured me. Those hazel eyes were hypnotizing. It felt like they were speaking directly to me.

please leave me… I didn’t do anything. I am innocent.

Even with the kajal running down her cheeks, her eyes looked so pure, so innocently attractive.

Fuck. This girl was melting something inside me. Slowly erasing the anger that had been burning since the gunshot. Making me want to listen to her silent pleas.

But I needed to hear her voice. I needed to see her full face.

She was still frozen. So I slowly raised my gun and pressed the cold barrel against the back of her hand.

“Hath hatao. Abhi, jaaneman,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “Varna agar maine haath lagaya na, toh sirf haath nahi hataunga… tere saare kapde phaad dunga aur pura dekhunga.”

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes the moment she heard my words.

Slowly, with shaking hands, she lowered them.

Seriously? Itna bechain bhi koi karta hai kya?

“Bewaja tadpana band karo, dulhaniya,” I muttered.

I slid the tip of the gun under her chin and gently tilted her face up.

When I finally saw her properly… my breath almost stopped.

She was like the moon. Fair skin, tear-streaked cheeks, full trembling lips painted dark red. I could feel heat rising on my own face. I didn’t want to feel this weakness, but I couldn’t deny it.

I had no words to describe what I was seeing.

“ Hey… tumhara naam kya hai?” I asked.

She didn’t reply.

I hate being ignored.

“Naam bata, jaana…”

Still no answer. My patience was running thin.

I grabbed her wrist. The moment my fingers closed around her delicate hand, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Ahhhhh!!! Maaaa!!!!”

I flinched slightly. “O God! Maine kuch kiya bhi nahi… sirf naam poocha hai aur tu aise chillati hai jaise main tujhe zinda kha raha hoon.”

But she kept crying and sobbing uncontrollably. It was becoming too much.

“Rona band kar,” I said, trying to sound softer. “Rone se kuch nahi hoga. Naam bata apna, shona…”

I stared at her small, trembling pinkish-red lips.

These lips are mine now. Mine to kiss. Mine to crush. Mine to bite. Mine to claim.

I didn’t think twice. I leaned in to kiss her.

She quickly raised her hands and tried to push me away.

That move angered me.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair, tilting her head back, and crushed my lips against hers. In the struggle, her dupatta slipped off her shoulders, revealing the curve of her chest.

I was about to deepen the kiss when she pushed me with all her strength and screamed,

“Bhaiyaaaa!!! Bachaooo!!!”

Before I could stop her, she ran out of the room.

I let her go.

A dark smile spread across my face as I stood there, breathing heavily.

My little… lollipop.

She could run today.

But she wouldn’t be able to run forever.

Avantika burst out of the room like a storm of red silk and tears. Her dupatta was gone, her hair messy, kajal completely smudged, and dark red lipstick slightly smeared. She ran straight to her mother and hid behind Lajwanti, clutching her saree tightly as loud, broken sobs tore from her throat.

“Maa… Maa… bachao mujhe…” she cried hysterically.

The entire chawl had gone deathly silent. Neighbors who had come for the wedding stood frozen. Rajeev’s wives, Sonam, Suman, and the younger brothers — everyone looked terrified. No one dared to move.

Then Vikram stepped out of the room, a dark, satisfied laugh rumbling from his chest. He casually stroked his long hair back with one hand, the other still holding the revolver. The gunshot wound on his shoulder had started bleeding again, but he didn’t care. His eyes were only searching for one person.

He walked forward slowly. Rajeev, still lying on the ground with a bleeding face, crawled desperately and begged,

“Vikram bhai… please… meri behen ko chhod do… main kuch bhi karunga… maaf kar do…”

("Vikram-bhai... please... let my sister go... I'll do anything... please forgive me...")

Vikram didn’t even glance at him. His gaze was locked on Avantika, who was trembling behind her mother.

He extended his hand towards her.

Lajwanti immediately stepped forward, shielding her daughter with her body.

“Chhod do humari beti ko!” she cried angrily, tears streaming down her face. “Tumhare ghar mein maa behen nahi hain kya?”

Vikram smiled — a slow, dangerous smile that didn’t reach his cold eyes.

“Maa bhi hai… behen bhi hai. Lekin teri beti na toh meri behen lagti hai, na hi maa. Par ab meri hai ye.”

("Let go of my daughter!" she cried angrily, tears streaming down her face. "Don't you have a mother or sister at home?")

He paused, then added with mocking generosity,

“Aur haan… ab se tumhara yeh boj bhi mera ho gaya. Main uthaunga isse zindagi bhar.”

Before anyone could react, Vikram forcefully pushed Lajwanti aside. Avantika screamed as he grabbed her wrist in a steel grip.

“Chhod do mujhe! Chhod do!! Maa… Bhaiya… Baba… bachao mujhe!!!”

She struggled wildly, but it was useless. Vikram bent down, threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, and straightened up. Her red lehenga flared around her legs as she kicked and cried.

“Sahib, car ka gate khol,” he ordered calmly.

Sahib immediately opened the door of the black Ambassador.

Vikram carried Avantika towards the car without looking back even once. Her loud, heart-wrenching cries of “Maaaaa!! Bhaiyaaaa!!” echoed in the narrow chawl lanes.

Behind them, the family didn’t run after the car.

They cried, yes. But not for Avantika.

They cried because their reputation was ruined in front of the entire chawl. Their izzat had been dragged through the mud. The neighbors were already whispering. The shame of what had just happened — a girl being taken away like this on her supposed wedding day — would follow them forever.

Jagdish stood with his head lowered in defeat. Lajwanti fell to her knees, sobbing. Rajeev stared at the departing car with empty eyes, knowing he had brought this destruction upon his own sister.

The black Ambassador roared to life and sped away, taking Avantika far from the only world she had ever known.

The black Ambassador sped through the rain-slicked streets of Mumbai, its powerful engine cutting through the silence of the night. Avantika was trapped in the backseat, pressed against the far door, her body still shaking violently. Her red lehenga was crumpled, her dupatta lost somewhere in the chawl, and her kajal-streaked face was wet with fresh tears.

She kept hitting the locked door weakly, her voice hoarse from screaming.

“Chhod do mujhe… please… ghar le chalo… main kuch nahi kahungi… please!”

Vikram sat beside her, his massive frame taking up most of the seat. His long hair was loose now, falling over his shoulders, and the thick beard made his every expression look menacing. Even when he tried to smile, it came out terrifying — like a wolf baring its teeth.

“Shhh… shant ho ja, dulhaniya,” he said in what he thought was a sweet tone. But his voice was naturally deep, loud, and rough — it filled the entire car like a threat. “Ab rona band kar. Tu ghar chhod aayi hai… ab tera naya ghar dekh.”

Avantika flinched at the volume of his voice. She curled smaller into the corner, hugging her knees to her chest.

Vikram shifted closer. His big hand reached out and landed on her shoulder, heavy and possessive. She jerked away violently.

“Mat chhuo mujhe!” she cried, voice breaking.

He chuckled. The sound was low and rumbling, but because of his loud voice, it sounded terrifying inside the closed car.

“Arre… dar kyun rahi hai? Main tujhe kuch nahi karunga… abhi.” His lips stretched into a smile again, but the thick beard made it look monstrous. “Tu meri hai ab, samjhi? Vikram Khanna ki aurat. Bahut badi izzat hai yeh.”

Avantika’s hazel eyes were wide with pure panic. She was breathing fast, almost hyperventilating. Every time he spoke, even softly, his deep booming voice made her heart slam against her ribs.

After almost forty minutes, the car turned into a quiet, tree-lined lane in Juhu. Tall iron gates opened automatically as the headlights fell on them. The Ambassador rolled inside and stopped in front of a massive, old-style mansion.

Rekha Haveli.

Even in the dim lights, the haveli looked intimidating — sprawling, white marble pillars, high ceilings visible through the windows, and old-fashioned grandeur mixed with dark power. It was nothing like the tiny chawl room Avantika had grown up in.

Vikram stepped out first. Sahib opened the other door. Avantika refused to move. She pressed herself harder against the seat, fresh tears flowing.

“Nahi… main nahi jaungi… mujhe ghar wapas le chalo… please!”

Vikram leaned down, his long hair falling forward. That horrible smile appeared again.

“Ab yeh tera ghar hai, jaaneman,” he said loudly, voice echoing even outside the car. He slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her out effortlessly as if she were a child.

Avantika screamed and struggled in his arms, hitting his chest with her small fists.

“Chhod do! Maa… Bhaiya… koi mujhe bachao!!”

But no one was there to save her.

Vikram carried her up the wide marble steps of Rekha Haveli like a bride on her wedding night — except this bride was crying hysterically and this groom looked like the devil himself. The heavy wooden doors opened, and warm golden light spilled out.

Inside, the haveli was luxurious in an old-money, slightly intimidating way — crystal chandeliers, large portraits on the walls, and the faint scent of incense and roses.

Vikram didn’t stop until he reached the grand staircase. He looked down at her tear-soaked face, his grip tightening possessively around her body.

“Welcome to your new home, Meri dulhaniya ,” he said, his terrifying loud voice softening just a fraction. “Ab rona band kar… warna main khud tumhe chup karane ka tarika bataunga.”

Avantika’s body went limp in his arms from exhaustion and fear. Her hazel eyes, still beautiful despite the ruined makeup, stared up at him with pure dread.

She had been taken.

And there was no going back.

Vikram carried Avantika straight to the master bedroom on the first floor of Rekha Haveli. The room was huge — heavy teak furniture, a large four-poster bed with silk sheets, dim golden lighting from the chandelier, and tall windows covered with thick curtains. It smelled of sandalwood and power.

He kicked the door shut behind him and gently placed her down on the bed

Vikram gently laid Avantika’s unconscious body on the grand four-poster bed. For a moment, he simply stood there, admiring her tear-streaked face, smudged kajal, and the way her chest rose and fell. A dark, satisfied smile played on his lips behind the thick beard.

“Dekho,” he had whispered earlier, his loud, deep voice echoing in the room, “shaadi toh ab tumhari kabhi nahi hogi. Ab sirf mujhe khush karne ke tarike socho, dulhaniya…”

He took a step closer, reaching out to touch her face.

But before his fingers could brush her skin —

“VIKRAM…! VIKRAAMMMM!! Bahar aa abhi ke abhi!!”

The furious roar shook the entire Rekha Haveli.

Vikram froze. The blood drained from his face. His broad shoulders tensed, and for the first time that night, real fear flashed in his eyes. His throat went dry.

The voice boomed again, even louder and filled with rage.

“Vikram! Teri himmat kaise hui is ghar mein ladki laane ki?! Vikram!!”

He swallowed hard. The terrifying, powerful man who had just kidnapped a girl in front of hundreds of people now looked like a frightened boy. He glanced once more at Avantika lying unconscious on his bed, then turned and walked out of the room, closing the heavy door behind him.

His footsteps echoed heavily down the grand staircase as he went to face the one person who could still make Vikram Khanna tremble.

To be continue..

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