Hey everyone 💕

This story is really special to me.

I’m rewriting and restarting this journey again with lots of love, effort, and emotions.

Please don’t judge the story too quickly from just one or two chapters. Every character, every scene, and every emotion has a deeper meaning that will unfold slowly.

I would genuinely love to hear your thoughts, theories, favorite scenes, and reactions in the comments. Your support honestly motivates me a lot as a writer 🌸

Please be respectful while sharing opinions. Healthy criticism is always welcome, but kindness matters too 🤍

And thank you for giving this story a chance.

love you all ❤️

I always believed hatred had a limit.

That no matter how much you despise someone…

there’s always a line you won’t cross.

I was wrong.

Because today—

I was standing at the edge of that line…

dressed as a bride.

For him.

The room felt suffocating.

Heavy lehenga.

Heavy jewelry.

Heavy silence.

But none of it was heavier than the truth sitting in my chest.

> He killed my brother.

My fingers tightened around the edge of my dupatta as that thought replayed again… and again… and again.

And yet—

Here I was.

The wedding hall was filled.

Not just filled—

crowded.

People everywhere.

Relatives whispering behind their hands.

Strangers watching like this was some kind of show.

Soft music playing in the background—completely unaware of the storm standing in the middle of it.

“The bride looks beautiful…”

“They make such a perfect pair…”

“Oberois really know how to host a wedding…”

I almost laughed.

Perfect?

If only they knew.

“Yashvi…”

My mother’s voice came from beside me.

Low. Controlled.

But I could hear the tension hidden beneath it.

“Everyone is waiting.”

Yes.

They were.

Dozens of eyes.

Maybe hundreds.

All fixed on me.

Waiting for me to walk forward.

To sit beside him.

To say yes.

My gaze slowly lifted—

and landed on him.

Reyansh Oberoi.

Standing there like he belonged to this moment.

Calm. Composed. Unbothered.

Like this wasn’t a wedding—

just another decision already made.

His eyes met mine.

Steady. Unreadable.

And that irritated me even more.

How could someone look so normal…

after destroying someone’s entire world?

I took a step forward.

Then another.

The sound of my anklets echoed softly—

but inside me?

Everything was loud.

“You killed my brother…”

My voice cut through the murmurs.

Sharp enough to silence them.

The whispers stopped.

Heads turned.

Eyes widened.

“and you expect me to marry you?”

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Someone dropped something.

Someone else tried to speak—

“Yashvi beta—this is not the—”

But I didn’t look away.

Not from him.

Not for a second.

For a moment… I thought he would say something.

Deny it.

Explain it.

Justify himself.

But Reyansh Oberoi didn’t react.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t even seem surprised.

He just looked at me.

Like he had already seen this coming.

And then—

very slightly—

he smiled.

“I thought you’d be afraid.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

As if the tension around us didn’t exist.

As if the crowd didn’t exist.

As if I didn’t matter.

My jaw clenched.

“Afraid?” I let out a hollow laugh.

“You think I’m scared of you?”

The crowd shifted again.

Whispers returning—louder this time.

Confused. Curious. Watching.

Reyansh took a step closer.

Slow. Measured.

And just like that—

everything went quiet again.

“Let her speak.”

He didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t need to.

And suddenly—

everyone listened.

The distance between us shrank.

The air changed.

“Good.”

A pause.

His gaze locked onto mine.

“That anger…”

he said quietly—

“is exactly why I chose you.”

My breath stilled.

Not in fear.

Not in shock.

But something else.

Something I couldn’t name.

Chose?

I wasn’t here because of circumstances.

Or helplessness.

Or fate.

I was here because—

he wanted me here.

And suddenly…

this didn’t feel like a forced marriage anymore.

It felt like something far worse.

Planned.

The priest cleared his throat nervously.

“Shall we proceed…?”

The crowd leaned in again.

Watching.

Waiting.

Like nothing had happened.

Like everything was normal.

But nothing was normal.

Not anymore.

I looked at him—

Reyansh Oberoi.

The man I hated.

.

.

.

to be continued ~