𝘽𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝘾𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 |

| VANYA MEHROTRA

24 June 2021 ,

Exactly 5 years ago , since I last saw him.

My dog , Buggo.

He was a doberman, brought by my grandfather and always neglected by my parents. But in between this , he was my whole world.

The only creature on the planet who listened to me everytime I babbled , cried and laughed. I have many memories with him, many photos but none of them can fill the void of his absence.

Everyone would make fun of me , they used to say that who names a scary doberman as Buggo. I got offended, cried and started to call him by a different name but he ignored everytime I called him with a different name.

And finally I decided that Buggo is the only name he loved. Just like I was the only person he ever loved.

It's been 5 years to that day. The nightmare still haunts me but I can't let it overturn me , can I?

I wipe a tear sliding down my cheek as I stare at the flowers placed on the ground where Buggo was buried.

Pink and white roses , Buggo and I's favourite. We used to roam around the garden looking for them.

I insisted or begged my parents to bury him here , close to me and that was the last time I remember asking them for something.

I took my middle and index finger to my lips and then placed them slightly to the paw engraved on the cemetery.

I miss you Buggo. I will meet you on the other side.

Standing up , I brushed my hands on my dress making sure there's no wrinkles. Mama doesn't like it when I look messy.

Glancing at the cemetery for the last time , I walked out of the garden. The mansion is calm, like always. Nobody in the living room but voices coming down from the only place that ever makes sound.

My father's study. I don't remember anybody telling me to dress like the girls in the model show today. Mama always makes sure to dress me up like a barbie in front of every guest that comes.

Before anybody could notice I made my way upstairs and immediately increased my phase as soon as I heard the study door open.

If mama see me in this simple dress roaming around in house in presence of her guests , I am doomed.

Before I could turn the knob of my door , I heard his voice.

"Varya" Papa's strong and authorised voice roamed in the mansion like always.

My feet stopped and my breath hitched. Lord please save me today.

Turning around I saw him at the foot of the stairs , mama is beside him throwing daggers into my skull with her dark chocolate brown eyes, I inherited from her.

I avoid her gaze and immediately mutters "yes?"

Papa looked around for a second before nervously clearing his throat. One thing I know about my father accurately is that he is never nervous. He can be angry , a little happy, serious and unapologetic. But never nervous.

What the hell is happening? Papa looked at mama who sighed and looked straight in my eyes "come downstairs, Varya".

Within a few seconds I found myself downstairs, I have never offended them but that never satisfied them. The disappointment always lingers in their eyes.

Papa looked down at me and whispered "You are getting married". A snicker escapes my lips involuntarily causing mama to glare at me dangerously.

I look up at my father to see if he's joking. But Aman Mehrotra , the textile business tycoon , he never jokes. Let alone a smile.

My face falls pale , what the hell does he mean that I am getting married? I am just 23 , an anonymous author and god forbid if I have ever stepped out of this cage named mansion.

I blink at him twice to make sure I heard it right and he is serious about what he said , "what?" escaped me in shutters.

Papa looked around with slight frustration before pinching his nose "we don't have any option Varya, you are getting married"

I look at him like he has grown two heads, what the hell is he talking about ? Mama who was silent till now finally spoke "he is right".

I looked at her in disbelief before my eyes pooled up with familiar salty water. I shake my head , few of my curtain bangs bouncing around "you are joking. Right mama ? You can't do this to me"

The tremble. The fear. The hurt in my voice doesn't change their expression. They don't care, they never did.

"Please no" a small sob escaped my mouth. Mama took a step forward and grab my hand firmly, her sharp manicured nails digging in my skin.

I flinch, not from the pain her nails were giving me but the ache in my heart. What are they trying to do ? Why I am always unaware of everything.

I look up at my father with hurt. Longing and hope, that he will ask me ? Will he consider my opinion? He will just for once in my life consider me as his daughter but not a responsibility.

But again I found nothing. Just a pair of deep black eyes staring back at me with blank-ness.

"You are getting married, Varya. You like it or not" Mama turned me towards herself with a jerk , breaking my gaze from papa.

One. Two. Three. I lost my counts as tears slipped down my eyes in row and there I heard the footsteps. Heavy. Dominant. Confident.

But I didn't look up. I couldn't. What am I going to do now ? Get married and settle with someone I don't even know?

What if he hates me just like my parents ? What if he is old uncle ? What if he is violent? What will I do if he beats me ? I don't have a home , I don't even have friends, I have nowhere to go and run.

My mother immediately looses her hand around my wrist as the footsteps still. My father clears his throat and I can feel him standing straight.

The strong smell of musky expensive cologne filled my nostrils but I still didn't look up. My hand fell down beside me as I stared blankly at my fluffy penguin slippers.

Tears dried. Hope shattered.

My father stepped forward, his voice low yet authority swirling through it "Abhimanyu".

Abhimanyu.

Who's he ?

Before I could look up, a deep strong and masculine voice sent shivers down my spine. His voice is dominant but filled with immense calmness. The calmness which seems too dangerous.

"It's Mr. Rathore for you" , I looked up and I swear I was stiff.

As much as I am in between storms of emotions , I can't help but crane up my neck to look up at him. His eyes were already on me , dark grey, almost black. The face sketched like God took his own time to do that.

His dark hairs perfectly styled into perfection with 5'o clock shadow grazing his flawless cheek and chiseled jaw.

His lips , his sharp nose and face stoic , everything adding more punch of perfection with his glory.

He is cladded in an expensive customised black suit doing nothing to hide his muscular body , biceps prominent, shoulders broad and hands inside his pockets ,veiny. Expensive Rolex on his wrist peeking from the sleeves of his suit.

I felt myself naked as his eyes stared deep in mine. Blank , hard and strong. I step backward as his eyes rank down my body before looking back at papa.

Papa nods looking at him as mama immediately slips into his side , wrapping and arm around his, leaving me to stand behind them.

"She's ready" mama said with her pitchy voice. Ready ? Just like that ?

I look at her side profile , my eyes blur with tears. The man standing infront of them towering their height nods before he looks at me. But I didn't look up at him. Not this time.

I couldn't, I am not someone who expresses her pain out to somebody or infront of someone. I was taught not too.

The man , Abhimanyu, I assumed said "Tomorrow at 10. My lawyer will prepare the documents by then".

My fist clenched digging in my palms, court marriage? What about my dreams ? The lehenga? Mehendi ? No functions? No seven vows ? All dreams trapped in few papers ? Just like that.

I took a few trembling steps back and turned around running straight upstairs. I can feel pair of eyes at the back of my head but I didn't stop.

For the first time in my life I didn't stop as mama called out "Varya". I dashed straight into my room, locking it behind and falling on my knees.

Sobs finally left my mouth as I pulled my legs to my chest burying my face in them crying.

What am I going to do now? Should I run away? I can't.

I don't know anyone, I have nobody to go.

I have no place to run and hide.

🪄

| ABHIMANYU SINGH RATHORE |

I stared at her back, her small body , barely 5'2" running upstairs. But my face remains the same , emotionless.

I stared back at Aman Mehrotra, the man I despise more than anything in my life. Yet I am marrying his daughter.

Varya.

The name has been imprinted on my mind since the time I saw her on her 19th birthday. The gathering at old fucker Mayank Jain's mansion.

She looked way younger, almost a decade younger than me but those innocent dark chocolate brown eyes, the way they were looking through the crowd was everything I could crave for.

I wanted her to see me but she never did.

Aman has been on my target list for more than a decade now. I was just waiting for the right moment to tackle him.

But taking him down directly will result in losing Varya. And out of everything, I can't lose her. Never her.

She's mine , mine to posses , mine to protect.

She is grown up now , her silky brunette hairs reached her mid riff with her face more defined and flawless as ever. God forbid how much I want to kiss her slightly chubby cheeks. Her lips.

My Baby.

For last 4 years, I have attended every gathering she came with her unworthy parents, although I hate gatherings. Just to get a glimpse of her.

Today , she finally saw me. But with what?  The fucking tears in her eyes.

When I came back after ending the call with my lawyer. I saw her mother's witch-y hand on her wrist , I swear I was on the verge of killing her mother on the spot.

I glared at her mother making her leave Varya's hand at instant. Smart woman.

I look at Aman Mehrotra, as he closes his eyes in frustration. Her mother , Akangsha Mehrotra immediately peeps in with her irritating voice "don't mind her reckless behaviour, she's dumb".

And before I could hold back, I took a dangerous step towards her making her flinch back and Aman's eyes wide.

I bore glare in her eyes that are similar to Varya's but nothing like her warm and kind one "this is the last time I am listening to you degrading her, because next time it will be yours last time".

Aman Mehra stumbles in between "Mr. Rathore you can't talk to my wife lik-"

I cut off him straight. I don't have time for his nonsense , I have bulk of meetings and work pending , "and no one can talk about Varya like that. I am not on your mercy but it's clearly the other way"

My cold gaze shifts from him to his wife. Aman Mehrotra clenches his fist before nodding slowly.

Selfish motherfucker.

"Good. Tomorrow sharp at 10 am" I clench my jaw before turning around and walking straight out. My bodyguards immediately fall around me as I walk to the bullet proof car parked in the driveway.

My head bodyguard, Vikram immediately opens the door as I slide inside, opening the buttons of my suit.

The driver takes off from the mansion and I couldn't help but glance at her balcony, the white curtains closed and her balcony decorated with small plants and lights.

Just one more day. And she will have my name behind hers.

My plan is strong , undefeatable and my revenge is on point. Already some step down and  few more to go. But I will never let her get in my way.

She's innocent, she is mine and I will never let anyone hurt that belongs to me.

Varya Mehrotra, huh.

Varya Abhimanyu Singh Rathore. It is.

🪄