“Now that I finally got to see you dressed like a bride,” she had whispered softly, “I wish I could’ve seen you truly married too. You look so beautiful today.”
The memory nearly breaks something inside my chest now.
“Mom…” I whisper helplessly into the empty room. “Where are you?”
With every passing minute, the fear only increases. What if something happened to her? What if Samarjeet found out? What if he already knows about our escape plan? No. Trisha would have warned me if that happened. Wouldn’t she?
I don’t even realise how much time passes while spiralling through these thoughts until I hear another knock on the door. Relief rushes through me so fast that I almost run towards it. But the second I pull it open, my entire body stiffens.
Samarjeet stands outside, his eyes moving slowly over me from head to toe as he inspects my bridal look almost mockingly. A smirk tugs at his mouth.
“Well,” he drawls lazily, “this is surprising.”
I say nothing.
“I honestly expected another drama from you today. Crying, fighting, refusing to marry like some tragic heroine. But seeing you standing here dressed like Parag’s obedient bride without creating a scene… it looks like reality has finally broken my sister’s ego.”
Anger flashes through me instantly. My first instinct is to demand where Mom is. Because I still can’t shake off the suspicion that he might be behind her disappearance. But I stop myself just in time.
If Samarjeet doesn’t know anything yet, I can’t risk exposing my panic over Mom being missing. One wrong reaction from me could ruin the entire extraction plan.
So, I force my expression to remain blank.
“Why are you here?” I ask coldly.
Samarjeet looks almost amused by the question.
“To take you downstairs, obviously.” He shrugs. “Isn’t that the brother’s job? To escort the bride to the mandap?”
I frown immediately.
“It’s not even time yet. The muhurat isn’t for another hour.”
He scoffs. “Since when do mafias care about auspicious timings? We don’t wait for the right muhurat before pulling a trigger into someone’s skull, do we? So why would I wait for one to start a wedding?” He sighs before adding. “Parag’s already downstairs. The priest is ready. The guests are waiting. Nobodywants to sit around for another hour listening to wedding chants.”
Then his eyes darken. “So stop filling your head with some dreamy princess wedding fantasy, Siya. This is an alliance, not a fairytale that we have to wait for some auspicious time to begin.”
Before I can respond, his hand suddenly closes around my wrist. “Let’s go.”
I tense immediately.
No. Trisha specifically told me to stay inside this room until she returned. But Samarjeet doesn’t give me the chance to refuse. He drags me out of the bedroom before I can think of an excuse. I want to resist. But I can’t create a scene right now. Not when I still don’t know what happened to Mom. Not when our chance of escape may depend on me acting normal for a little while longer. So I force myself to walk beside him, even as every instinct inside me warns that something is terribly wrong.
The wedding is set up inside Vardhaan Mansion, more specifically in the vast open lawn stretching across the front of the mansion. The moment Samarjeet walks me outside, the sheer scale of this mafia wedding hits me all over again. The entire lawn has been transformed into a heavily guarded luxury fortress.
A massive mandap stands at the centre beneath layers of cascading flowers and golden lights. Armed guards are stationed around every corner, even while servers move between guests carrying trays of champagne and expensive liquor.
Everywhere I look, there are mafia families.
Powerful men.
Their wives.
Mistresses.
Political allies.
Syndicate leaders.
