Vikram’s eyes burned with rage and dark satisfaction. He lowered the gun slightly and fired near Avantika’s foot.

Bang!

The bullet hit the marble floor just inches away from her, sending shards flying. Avantika screamed and jumped back in terror.

Vikram (in a loud, terrifying voice):

“Haan bol, varna jaan se maar dunga.”

“Say yes, or I’ll kill you.”

Avantika started crying uncontrollably. She looked desperately at Rekha, hoping for some mercy.

But Rekha’s face remained cold and determined. She wanted this wedding — for her son’s control, for the family’s izzat, and for her own reasons.

Rekha:

“Haan bol de, warna sach mein maar dega.”

“Say yes, otherwise he will really kill you.”

Avantika was sobbing so hard she could barely speak. No words came out.

Vikram stepped closer, towering over her. He pressed the cold barrel of the gun against her lips.

Vikram was dangerously soft yet loud

“Say yes… yeh teri last chance hai.”

English: “Say yes… this is your last chance.”

Avantika nodded frantically, tears streaming down her face.

Vikram pulled the gun back slightly but kept it aimed at her.

Vikram:

“Muuh se bol. Poori tarah bol. Vikram ji mujhe se shaddi kar lijiye main ap ke liye tadap rhi hu”

( “Say it with your mouth. Say it properly. Vikram-ji, please marry me; I am longing for you.")

He waited, eyes dark with expectation.

Avantika looked down at the gun, then at the floor, her voice barely a broken whisper filled with fear and defeat.

Avantika was trembling, crying

“Please Vikram ji… mujhse shaadi kar lijiye… main tadap rahi hoon aapke liye…

(“Please Vikram ji… marry me… I am longing for you…”)

A twisted, satisfied smile spread across Vikram’s face behind his thick beard. His ego was fully satisfied.

But his body… his hunger was far from over.

Rekha nodded once, satisfied. She turned to Sahib.

Rekha:

“Sahib, panditji ko abhi bulao. Aaj hi muhurat pooch lo.”

( “Sahib, call the pandit right now. Ask for the auspicious time today.”)

Sahib left immediately. Within half an hour, the old panditji arrived, looking nervous in the tense atmosphere of Rekha Haveli.

After checking his panchang and doing some quick calculations, the pandit spoke with hesitation.

Panditji:

“Aaj hi muhurat hai. Aaj ke baad agla muhurat chhe mahine baad hai.”

( “Today itself is auspicious. After today, the next auspicious time is after six months.”)

Rekha didn’t even wait for anyone’s reaction.

Rekha said firmly

“Toh aaj hi shaadi ho jayegi.”

(“Then the wedding will happen today itself.”)

Avantika’s world shattered. She stood there numb, still crying silently, trapped between a mother-in-law who had chosen her fate and a dangerous man who now owned her completely.

Vikram’s terrifying smile widened as he looked at his trembling bride-to-be.

The nightmare was only beginning.The Bride in Red

The mandap in the courtyard of Rekha Haveli was ready. The sacred fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the marble floor. Marigold garlands hung heavy in the humid Mumbai night air. It wasn’t a grand wedding — only her broken family had been brought here like silent prisoners. Rajeev stood with bandages on his face, his wives beside him, looking terrified. Good. They should be.

I stood near the mandap in my dark sherwani, arms crossed, my long hair tied back. My shoulder still throbbed from the gunshot, but the pain was nothing compared to the fire running in my veins.

Then… she came.

Avantika.

The moment I saw her descending the stairs, something inside me shifted. She looked like a goddess dipped in blood and gold — my goddess.

Her deep red bridal lehenga was heavy with intricate gold embroidery that shimmered with every small step. The choli hugged her delicate curves, the sheer dupatta with its golden border draped gracefully over her head. Heavy gold jewelry adorned her — layered necklaces resting on her chest, jhumkas swaying near her neck, bangles covering her wrists, and a maang tikka crowning her forehead like a queen. A bright red bindi marked her between those large hazel eyes, and her lips… those full lips painted dark red were slightly trembling.

Even with swollen eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, she was breathtaking. Pure. Innocent. And now completely mine.

Fuck… I thought, my throat tightening. This was exactly the kind of beauty that always destroyed my control. Those cabaret dancers from last night were nothing compared to her. She was delicate, fragile, yet something in her hazel eyes pulled me in like a magnet. My body reacted instantly — heat rushing through me, a dark hunger settling low in my stomach. I wanted to rip that lehenga off her right there.

She looked at her family and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She tried to move toward them, but the servants held her gently. My jaw clenched. No one else gets to touch what’s mine now.

Rekha’s voice rang out, ordering her to sit beside me. Avantika obeyed like a broken doll, her small hands trembling in her lap.

The pandit started the rituals slowly. I watched every second with dark satisfaction.

When it was time for kanyadaan, her father Jagdish came forward with shaking hands. I could see the shame in his eyes. Good. He had raised a daughter beautiful enough to become my obsession.

Then came the moment I had been waiting for.

I picked up the mangalsutra — a heavy gold chain with black beads. I leaned forward, my long hair falling slightly over my shoulder, and tied it around her delicate neck. My fingers brushed her soft skin. She flinched. A dark thrill ran through me.

I whispering close to her ear

“Ab tu meri ho gayi…”

“Now you belong to me…”

Next, I filled her maang with sindoor. The bright red powder fell in a thick line on her parting. Some of it dusted her nose. She looked so beautiful like this — marked as my wife. My chest swelled with raw possession. No other man would ever touch her again. She was mine to break, mine to own, mine to protect… and mine to ruin if I wanted.

The pheras began. We circled the fire seven times. With every step, I held her hand tightly, feeling her tremble. Her heavy lehenga rustled, her bangles chimed softly. I could smell the faint scent of her — fear mixed with the mogra flowers in her hair. It was intoxicating.

With each vow, my emotions grew darker and stronger:

She is mine now. No more crying for her old life. I will make her crave me the way I already crave her.

After the seventh phera, the pandit declared us husband and wife.

I looked at my new bride — Avantika Vikram Khanna — sitting beside me in that stunning red and gold lehenga. Her hazel eyes were lowered, tears still falling silently. My heart beat harder. My body burned with need.

This was only the beginning.

I leaned close again, my voice low but naturally loud, brushing against her ear

“Ab raat humari hai, dulhaniya. Bahut sundar lag rahi hai tu… meri biwi

“Now the night is ours, dulhaniya. You are looking very beautiful… my wife.”

A dark smile spread across my face behind my thick beard.

She was finally mine.

After the wedding rituals and aashirwad were completed, Rekha gave her final instructions. Avantika’s family was sent off with some money and strict warnings not to create any scene. The haveli fell into an uneasy silence.

Vikram stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow. He looked at his trembling bride in her heavy red and gold lehenga and called a servant.

Vikram (loud, deep voice):

“Servant! Isse suhaagrat wale kamre mein le ja.”

English: “Servant! Take her to the wedding night room.”

Avantika’s heart sank. Two female servants gently led her upstairs to the beautifully decorated master bedroom.

The room was breathtaking — a large four-poster canopy bed covered with hundreds of red rose petals. Strings of flowers and fairy lights hung from the canopy, creating a soft, romantic glow. The floor was also scattered with petals. It looked like a dream… but for Avantika, it felt like a nightmare.

She stood in the middle of the room, still in her heavy bridal lehenga and jewelry, feeling completely lost.

Suddenly, the door opened again. Lajwanti, her mother, had been allowed a few minutes to meet her daughter. The moment Avantika saw her, she ran and hugged her tightly, burying her face in her mother’s saree and crying hysterically

She was sobbing

“Maa… mujhe ghar jaana hai… mujhe woh mera pati nahi pasand… woh babbar sher lagta hai… Maa…”

( “Mom… I want to go home… I don’t like him as my husband… He looks like a lion from outside… Mom…)

Lajwanti stroked her daughter’s back, but her voice was firm.

Lajwanti:

(“Chup pagli. Ghabra mat. Woh tera pati hai aur yeh tera ghar hai. Arre ghar bhi nahi — mahal hai, mahal! Ek mile mai mein kaam karne wali ki beti ko raj mila hai. Raja khush ho ja.”)

( “Shut up, silly girl. Don’t panic. He is your husband and this is your home. What home — it’s a palace! A daughter who worked in a middle-class house has got a kingdom. Be happy, my queen.”)

Avantika tried to speak again.

Avantika:

“Par Maa woh…”

Lajwanti stopped her immediately.

Lajwanti:

“Chup! Chal, apne baal khol. Warna damadji ko gussa aa jayega.”

(“Quiet! Come, open your hair. Otherwise your husband will get angry.”(

Innocent Avantika, who had no idea about the realities of marriage and intimacy, looked confused.

She was (clueless):

“Kyuu gussa honge? Maine kya kiya?”

“Why will he get angry? What did I do?”

Lajwanti sighed and started unpinning Avantika’s dupatta. She opened the heavy jewelry and loosened her hair, letting the long dark waves fall freely down her back — making it easier for Vikram.

Lajwanti:

“Dekh beta, aaj raat ko tera pati tujhe bahut pyaar karega. Aur tu chup rahegi. Woh tera pati hai beta… woh jo chahe, jaise chahe tujhe chhuega aur tere kapde bhi utarega.”

“Look child, tonight your husband will love you a lot. And you will stay quiet. He is your husband… he will touch you however he wants and will also remove your clothes.”

Avantika’s eyes widened in shock and confusion.

“Kyuu Maa? Mere kapde kyuu utarega??”

“Why Mom? Why will he remove my clothes??”

Lajwanti gave a tired smile and cupped her daughter’s face.

Lajwanti:

“Arre pagli, utarega nahi toh tujhe paas kaise banayega?”

“Oh silly girl, if he doesn’t remove them, how will he make you his?”

Avantika still looked completely lost and scared.

Avantika (voice trembling):

“Mujhe kuch bhi samajh nahi aa raha hai Maa… Mujhe darr lag raha hai… Maa aap mat jao na… mujhe akela chhod kar mat jao… mujhe aapke paas rehna hai Maa.”

( “I don’t understand anything, Mom… I’m scared… Mom please don’t go… don’t leave me alone… I want to stay with you, Mom.”)

Lajwanti hugged her daughter one last time, her own eyes moist but voice steady.

Lajwanti:

“Aree ro mat. Yeh toh har ladki ka naseeb hai meri bacchi… Bas sun — apne pati se koi sawaal mat karna. Woh jo kahe karne dena. Thoda dard bhi hoga par rokio mat. Woh puche tabhi ‘nahi’ bolna. Apne pati ko kabhi ‘nahi’ mat kehna…”

(“Don’t cry. This is every girl’s destiny, my child… Just listen — don’t ask your husband any questions. Let him do whatever he wants. There will be some pain but don’t stop him. Only say ‘no’ when he asks. Never say ‘no’ to your husband…”)

Lajwanti kissed Avantika’s forehead, gave her a final sad look, and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Avantika stood alone in the middle of the flower-covered room, her heart pounding with fear and confusion. The heavy red lehenga felt like chains. She clutched her arms around herself, fresh tears falling onto the rose petals at her feet.

Outside the door, heavy footsteps approached.

Vikram was coming.

To be Continue.....

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