His Ruthless Desires

Ep 1

Niyati

I was supposed to be married by now.

By this time, I should've been surrounded by family, drenched in sindoor and laughter, my hands clasped in the man I thought would be mine forever. Instead, I'm here. Sitting alone in a bar I don't even recognize, the bitter taste of alcohol clinging to my tongue and betrayal coursing through my veins like venom.

The bangles on my wrists jingle with every movement, a cruel reminder of what today was supposed to be. My mother's red wedding saree feels heavier than ever. Each thread, each sequin, now stitched with pain instead of love.

I've never drunk alcohol before. Not even a sip. But today-today I need it. I need something, anything, to dull this sharp, tearing ache in my chest. I thought I'd be smiling with my husband by now, stepping into a new life. Instead, I'm crumbling alone, humiliated and abandoned.

Four years. That's how long I gave him.

Four long, precious years of my life. My heart, my trust, my secrets, my loyalty. Every inch of myself, I gave to Raj. And today-on the day that was supposed to be our beginning-I find out he never even loved me.

Not once. Not even a little.

I don't understand how that's possible. I don't understand how someone can fake it for so long. He knew me better than anyone. He knew about my fear of the dark, the way I talk to myself when I cook, how I hum under my breath when I'm nervous. I gave him the keys to my soul.

And still, I wasn't enough.

Now I sit here, drowning my heartbreak in some cheap liquor I can barely pronounce, mascara streaking down my face, lipstick smeared, hair tangled from the wind and my own restless hands.

The music in the bar is soft, jazzy, painfully out of place with the chaos in my mind. The lighting is low, and the world outside the window is dark, blurred by tears I've long stopped trying to wipe away.

"Hey! Why are you drinking so much?" a voice breaks into my haze, cutting through the murky fog in my head.

I blink slowly and turn my head. The bartender who had been serving me earlier is gone, and now there's someone new. Younger. Sharper. Softer. His eyes are a strange shade of warm brown, his smile teasing and oddly...kind.

If I weren't spiraling into emotional destruction, I might've thought he was cute. Maybe even charming. He had the kind of face that made you pause-a little bit of mischief, a little bit of soul.

"Hey, pretty lady," he continues with a smirk. "Did you elope from your wedding?"

I almost laugh. Almost.

Pretty?

I glance down at myself. The red saree clings to my body like a ghost. The gold jewelry feels cold against my skin. My eyeliner is probably smudged beyond repair, my lipstick faded, and I know I must look like a wreck. A bride without a groom. A heartbreak dressed in tradition.

Oh, right.

I was at the mandap about an hour ago.

Standing there like a fool, hands folded, heart full of hope. Waiting for Raj to arrive. Waiting for a dream that never came true.

Instead, I was told he had left.

Just... left.

Apparently, he chose someone else. A model. Someone vibrant and bold and pregnant. Pregnant with his child.

And me?

I was just the girl who dressed too modestly. Who didn't know how to contour her cheeks or flirt like the women in magazines. According to him, I looked like an aunty. Someone who wouldn't suit his lifestyle. Someone who didn't match his brand.

That was his reason. His serious reason for abandoning me at the mandap.

And yet, a part of me still defends him.

"He had a serious reason," I mumble to myself. "She's pregnant. She needs him."

"Hey, are you okay?" the bartender's voice turns softer now, his teasing gone.

Am I okay?

What a strange question. What does 'okay' even mean anymore?

I pick up my glass and drain the last of the drink. The burn in my throat barely registers. It's nothing compared to the blaze inside my chest. My heart feels like it's being torn apart with bare hands, slowly, mercilessly.

"I was loyal," I whisper to the empty air. "For four damn years. I gave him everything."

My vision blurs as memories flash before my eyes-late-night calls, secret letters, the way he used to look at me like I was his universe. I believed every word. Every lie.

And yet he felt... nothing?

How?

How can someone love a street kitten after five minutes of petting it and still not love a girl after four years of knowing her soul?

I push off the bar stool, gripping the bottle with shaky fingers. My saree drags across the floor, the weight of it threatening to pull me down. My anklets chime with every unsteady step.

"Ma'am!" the bartender calls out. "Wait! You haven't paid the bill!"

I pause, dazed. "I... I don't have any money."

He frowns, about to protest, but I tug off a ring from my finger and slide it across the counter.

"Take this," I say. "It's real. I promise. Just... don't give it away. I'll come back for it. I'll... I'll pay you later. Please."

He studies me for a second, his eyes searching mine. Then he nods.

I don't wait to say thank you.

---

The night air bites at my skin as I walk toward Marine Drive. My heels click against the pavement, my steps unsteady. I don't know why I'm going there. Maybe I hoped he'd be there. Maybe I just needed somewhere to fall apart.

And somehow-by some twisted miracle-he is.

Raj.

Sitting on the rocks, staring at the sea like it holds all his answers. His shoulders are slumped, his face unreadable, his hands tangled in his hair.

Why is he sad? Is she gone already? Did she lose the baby? Or is he just now realizing that actions have consequences?

I want him to look at me.

To say something. Anything.

But he doesn't even know I'm here.

A fresh wave of pain crashes over me, sharp and cold. My heart clenches as I bring the bottle to my lips again and take a long, bitter gulp.

And then the thought comes. Quiet. Dangerous.

Maybe he left because I wouldn't let him touch me. Maybe if I'd just... given in. Maybe he would've stayed.

If I offer that to him now-my body-would he come back?

Would he love me then?

I close my eyes and laugh bitterly.

It's just virginity, right? What is that compared to love? Compared to keeping him?

I could give him that. I could give him everything. I already have, haven't I?