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His tone hardened slightly, cutting through the silence like a quiet warning.
"I asked you something," he said, calm but commanding, each word pressing down on me as my heart raced.
I couldn't let him see my fear. I forced myself to breathe, gathered every broken piece of courage I had left, and slowly turned around to face him. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like he could hear it.
"I wasn't saying....."I began, my voice unsteady despite my effort to control it.
Before I could finish, he cut me off sharply. His eyes darkened, his tone low and threatening. "Lie to me,"he said calmly, "and see what happens."
The words hit harder than a slap, freezing me in place as fear and defiance tangled painfully inside my chest.
I swallowed hard, forcing my fear down, and gathered whatever confidence I could find. Looking straight at him, I blurted it out in one breath, "I was telling her that I'm not afraid of you."
A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips as he looked at me. "But you should," he said quietly, his voice calm yet heavy with a promise that made my courage tremble inside me.
His gaze sharpened as he took a step closer, voice steady but probing. "So," he asked quietly, "what were you denying?"
I lifted my chin, my hands trembling but my voice steady. "I'm not going to wear this gown," I said firmly. Then, with confusion and anger mixing in my chest, I added, "And why should I?"
He didn't reply. Instead, he pulled out his phone, his expression unreadable, and made a short call. His voice was low, controlled, giving an order I couldn't hear clearly. My heart started pounding again, dread creeping in slowly.
Within minutes, the door opened. Two guards stepped inside—and behind them was a Merry aunty.
My breath caught in my throat. Shock rooted me to the spot as I stared at her, my mind struggling to understand what I was seeing. Merry aunty? Of all people—her? She had been part of my life for years, someone familiar, someone I trusted. Seeing her here, in this place, shattered something inside me.
My hands began to shake, confusion and disbelief flooding through me. Questions screamed in my head, but no words came out. I just stood there, stunned, realizing that whatever this was… it went far deeper than I had ever imagined.
His words felt like a sentence I couldn't escape.
"You are going to marry me, sweetheart," he said calmly—so certain, so final—that my blood ran cold as the meaning crushed down on me, stealing the air from my lungs.
"No," I said immediately, my voice shaking but firm. "I'm not going to marry you." My heart was racing, fear clawing at me, but I stood my ground, refusing to let him see me break.
A cruel smirk spread across his face as he leaned closer. "If you don't wear this gown and marry me willingly," he said calmly, "then I'll kill your aunty." The threat landed like a blade, freezing my blood and stealing the breath from my lungs.
I shook my head desperately, tears spilling despite my effort to stay strong. "Leave her," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "What did I ever do to you? Please… leave me and her. We haven't done anything. Please."
My words came out rushed and fragile, fear choking every breath as I stood there helplessly, clinging to the hope that mercy might still exist somewhere in him.
His voice was cold, merciless, stripping away every ounce of hope I had left. "I already told you," he said calmly. "You have to pay for what your late father did." His eyes locked onto mine as he continued, "You will marry me—willingly or not. One order from me, and my men will shoot your precious aunty."
He paused, letting the threat sink in, then added softly, almost cruelly, "After that, I'll marry you anyway. But if you marry me without denying it, I'll let her live and let her go ."
He tilted his head slightly, a dark certainty in his gaze. "The choice is yours, sweetheart."
I swallowed hard, my heart shattering as I forced the words out. "Okay," I said quietly, pain and resolve tangled together. "First let her go… then I will."
His eyes flicked to my aunty, sharp and deliberate. "You have thirty minutes," he said coldly. "Get ready and do exactly as the maids say… or—" He let the threat hang unfinished, his gaze lingering on her. Then he turned back to me with a thin smile. "You're smart."
Without another word, he walked out.
Moments later, the door opened again and the same two girls stepped inside.The room felt smaller than ever, the countdown echoing loudly in my chest as I stood there, torn between fear, anger, and the unbearable weight of the choice I'd just made.
They got me ready in silence. No one spoke more than necessary, but their hands moved quickly, almost nervously, as if time itself was chasing us. The white gown felt heavy on my body, not because of its fabric, but because of what it meant. Every touch, every adjustment made my chest tighten. Thirty minutes slipped away like thirty seconds, and before I could even process it, it was over.

"Please come with me, ma'am," one of them said softly.
My legs felt weak as I followed her out. The hallway seemed longer than before, colder, unfamiliar. I was led outside and toward a car. My heart sank when I saw him already sitting inside, calm and composed, as if he hadn't just torn my world apart. I didn't say a word. I didn't look at him. I simply got in.
With a single order from him, the car started moving.
The journey passed in complete silence. No music. No conversation. Just the low hum of the engine and my quiet, uncontrollable tears sliding down my cheeks. I stared out the window, watching the world blur past me, feeling like I was drifting farther away from the life I once knew. My chest ached with questions that had no answers.
I didn't even know his name.
I didn't know who he really was.
I didn't know what my father had done—what sin he was accusing him of, what past I was being forced to pay for.
All I knew was that everything had changed. I was moving forward without choice, without clarity, bound to a man who felt like a stranger and a threat all at once. And as the car disappeared down the road, one terrifying thought echoed in my mind again and again.
Then the car finally stopped, and we entered what he called a wedding hall—but it didn't feel like one. There were no guests, no flowers, no warmth. Just empty space and silence. Only two guards stood near the entrance, rigid and watchful. My aunty was there, held between fear and helpless hope. And there was him… calm, unmoved. A priest waited ahead, eyes lowered, as if even he didn't want to witness this.
The ceremony began in the middle of that cold stillness. The words sounded distant, hollow, like they didn't belong to me. My hands trembled, my heart pounding so loudly I thought everyone could hear it. This wasn't a wedding—it felt like a sentence being carried out.
As the priest spoke, I leaned slightly toward him, my voice barely a breath, breaking as it escaped my lips.
"Please… don't do this."
Only he could hear me. but he ignored my plea . i know he can hear but he didn't listen. god please stop this I don't want to be with him please god but seems like god also couldn't hear me or he doesn't want to hear me .
The priest's voice echoed through the quiet hall, solemn and commanding: "Do you take Mr. Advika Rathod to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?"
He said confidently, "Yes, I do."
The priest then turned to me. I could feel my tears slipping silently down my cheeks, my body trembling with fear and exhaustion. "Do you take Aviraj Ranawat to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish him for as long as you both shall live?"
I opened my mouth to deny, to scream, but his cold, piercing stare froze me in place. My heart thudded violently in my chest, and my voice came out as a broken whisper: "Ye… yes… I… do…"
The priest pronounced, "You are husband and wife. You may now kiss."
Before I could even react, he pressed himself against me, his lips crushing mine. It wasn't a kiss—it was brutal, violent, and suffocating. I gasped, trying to pull away, but he held me tightly. This wasn't marriage—it was a nightmare forced upon me, a black mark on my life.

I felt a wave of despair as reality sank in. I knew his name now Aviraj Ranawat and from the way he carried himself, I guessed he was Indian. But this ceremony wasn't traditional, it didn't feel like India at all. It was a twisted imitation, a perversion of something sacred. I shivered, trapped in a nightmare I couldn't escape from, and the weight of my helplessness pressed down on me like a stone . this is BLACK MARRIAGE for me .
He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, his gaze cold and unreadable. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice calm but carrying an unyielding authority: "Now, I am doing as I say. i am Leaving your aunt."
He didn't say another word. Instead, he turned and gave a sharp command to his men: "Go and take her home safely."