Private security teams.
There are no children in sight. Just dangerous people dressed elegantly enough to hide the violence beneath their polished exteriors. And standing near the mandap is Parag… dressed as a groom.
I can see the satisfaction written all over his face from here. The relief. The triumph. As if he already believes this marriage is a done deal. As if he has finally secured me as a permanent part of his life. The sight alone makes nausea crawl up my throat. I need Trisha to come back. Now. Because if she delays even a little longer… this entire situation is going to turn into a disaster.
My eyes scan the lawn desperately for her. All around me, mafia families mingle beneath the golden lights, as if tonight is some grand celebration instead of a business alliance sealed through marriage. The atmosphere is filled with laughter mingling with danger. And in the midst of all this madness, Samarjeet keeps dragging me one step at a time towards the mandap.
Finally, I stop walking.
Samarjeet immediately turns to me. “What now?”
“Where is Mom?”
For a second, confusion flickers across his face. His eyes briefly move around the lawn, as if he’s searching for her too. I realise then that this might not be Samarjeet’s doing. If Mom is missing right now… maybe even he doesn’t know where she is.
“I don’t know,” he mutters impatiently. “She’s probably somewhere in the mansion.” Then his grip tightens around my arm again. “But that shouldn’t stop this wedding.”
My chest tightens violently.
“Once the ceremony starts, my men will find her and bring her here.”
He tries to pull me towards the mandap again, but I don’t move. Not even an inch.
“Until I see Mom, I’m not getting married.”
Samarjeet abruptly yanks me closer by my arm, and I nearly stumble into him. From a distance, it probably looks like an affectionate brother steadying his emotional sister before her marriage. But the whisper against my ear is ice cold.
“Stop creating a scene,” he warns.
My jaw clenches.
“Behave like the sweet, innocent bride everyone expects you to be.” His voice turns darker. “Even if we both know that’s not who you are.”
His fingers dig harder into my arm. “So smile. Pretend. And let this marriage happen quietly.”
A chill crawls down my spine. My instincts have been screaming at me all evening, but now the feeling becomes impossible to ignore. Because suddenly something feels very wrong tonight. There’s a strange silence beneath all the noise around me. The kind that comes just before a storm breaks. Something bad is about to happen. I can feel it.
And through it all, I cannot stop thinking about Mom. Where is she?
Please let Trisha have found her already. Please let them both be safely outside the mansion by now.
I look around once more for any sign of Trisha, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Panic begins to choke me from the inside. Because if I reach the mandap before Trisha returns… then what? How am I supposed to escape from the middle of a lawn packed with armed mafia men? Do I wait until the wedding rituals are over? The thought alone makes me nauseous. I cannot let this marriage happen. Not even temporarily. Not even for the ‘sake of the plan.’
Marriage is not a joke to me. The second those rituals are completed, I legally become Parag’s wife. And I would rather die than let that happen.
My pulse grows more frantic with every passing second. So frantic that I don’t even realise Samarjeet has already walked me all the way to the mandap until I suddenly look up and find Parag standing right in front of me.
My breath catches.No. No. No.
This is happening too fast.
The canopy above us glows beneath golden lights while priests prepare for the rituals ahead. Guests begin to gather closer around the mandap, eagerly waiting for the ceremony to begin. A woman steps forward carrying silver trays filled with flower garlands forJaimala.
My stomach drops instantly. Samarjeet takes one glance at the garlands before turning to Parag and speaking as casually, as if this were any ordinary family wedding.
“First, we’ll do the Punjabi rituals,” he says. “Then the South Indian ones.”
Parag smirks immediately.
