Chapter 1
Characters :
Male lead : Advait Thakur
Female lead: Meera
BACKGROUND: (FOR CONTEXT) It forced marriage and pregnancy age gap he is mafia she is student studying medicine the whole mess started because she saved him by taking him to hospital after finding him unconscious in alley and now he is obsessed with her.
Presnt(location: his penthouse on thakur estate)
The air in the obsidian-walled study was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and the clinical, sharp tang of antiseptic. Advait Thakur—a man whose name whispered through the corridors of power like a death sentence—sat behind a mahogany desk, his shoulder still stiff from the bullet wound that should have killed him.
Across from him sat Meera, her oversized university hoodie looking painfully out of place against the velvet upholstery. Her fingers trembled as she clutched her backpack.
“I don’t understand, Advait-ji,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The doctors said you were stable. I did what anyone would do. I found you, I called the ambulance, and I stayed until your... men showed up. Why am I still here? My exams start on Monday.”
Advait leaned forward, the motion slow and predatory. At thirty-five, his face was a map of hard-won battles, a stark contrast to Meera’s 23-year-old innocence.
“You think this is a matter of gratitude, Meera?” He let out a low, dark chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes. “In my world, when someone saves a life, they become responsible for it. You didn’t just patch me up; you saw me at my weakest. You held my hand in that ambulance and told me I wasn’t allowed to die. I’ve decided to take your command seriously.”
“That’s insane,” Meera breathed, standing up. “I saved you! I’m a pre-med student, it’s what I’m trained for. Please, just let me go home. My parents—”
“Your parents have been compensated for their loss,” Advait interrupted, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. “And they have been informed that you are now under the protection of the Thakur estate. Forever. You aren’t going back to that cramped apartment or those meaningless exams. Your life is here now, with me.”
Meera’s face went bone-white. She felt a wave of nausea hit her—one that had been haunting her for the past three mornings. She gripped the edge of the desk to steady herself. “You can’t just buy a person. I have a life. I have dreams.”
[He married her at gunpoint because he doesn't want his enemies get her to manipulate him and now she is pregnant with his child as doctor discovered due to sudden fainting in lecture hall .]
Advait rose, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her. He walked around the desk until he was inches away, the heat radiating from him like a furnace. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with a terrifying tenderness.
“Your dreams have changed,” he murmured. “And as for your health... my private physician visited while you were ‘napping’ earlier. It seems your act of mercy left us with a permanent tie, Meera. A consequence of that night in the safehouse before the hospital, when the fever broke and you tried so hard to keep me warm.”
Meera’s breath hitched. Her hand instinctively flew to her stomach. “No. That’s... that’s not possible. It was once. You were delirious.”
“I was dying, and you were the only light I could see,” Advait said, his grip on her jaw tightening just enough to be a command. “And now, that light is carrying the heir to everything I own. You saved my life, Meera. Now, you’re going to give me a new one. There is no version of this story where you walk out of that door. You are mine—by blood, by law, and by the life growing inside you. Get used to the gold cage, little bird. It’s the only home you’ll ever know again.”
The air in the room didn’t just turn cold; it turned lethal. The crack of Meera’s palm against Advait’s cheek echoed like a gunshot against the silent, marble walls. For a heartbeat, the only sound was his heavy, rhythmic breathing and the frantic pounding of her own heart.
Advait’s head was turned to the side, a dark bloom of red rising on his skin. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t roar. He simply slowly turned his face back to her, his dark eyes narrowing into slits of pure, molten obsidian.
“You think a career is a shield against me?” Advait’s voice was a low, vibrating growl that seemed to shake the very floorboards. “You think those textbooks and that white coat mean more than the blood I’ve spilled to keep this city at my feet? You’re a child playing at being an adult, Meera. You saved a monster, and now you’re surprised that he’s hungry.”
“I am not a vessel for your legacy!” Meera screamed, her voice raw with a defiance she didn’t know she possessed. “I spent my whole life studying, skipping sleep, and fighting for a seat in medical school so I could save people—not so I could be a prisoner to a man who destroys them. I don’t care about your money or your ‘protection.’ I am going to that clinic and my lectures, and I am ending this. I refuse to let a mistake in an alleyway define the rest of my existence. You can’t own a soul that doesn’t want to be found.”
She didn’t wait for his response. She spun on her heel, her sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as she bolted toward the heavy oak doors. She expected the click of a hammer, the heavy hand of a guard, or the roar of his voice ordering her to stop.
Instead, there was only a terrifying, chilling silence.
She burst through the gates of the estate, her lungs burning as she ran toward the main road, flagging down a passing rickshaw with trembling hands. She didn’t look back at the fortress on the hill.
Inside the study, Advait stood exactly where she had left him. He reached up, his fingers grazing the spot where she had struck him. A slow, dark smile spread across his face—the kind of smile a predator wears when the prey thinks it has found a hole to hide in.
He picked up his phone, dialing a single number.
[She decides to abort it will ruin her career path with early pregnancy]
“She’s out,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “Follow her. Do not touch her. But call every clinic, every hospital, and every private doctor in this country. Tell them that if they so much as look at her with a scalpel in their hand, I will burn their buildings to the ground with them inside. She wants to be a doctor? Let her see how the medical world reacts when the Thakur name marks a patient as ‘untouchable.’”
He poured himself a glass of scotch, his eyes fixed on the door.
“Run as far as you want, Meera,” he whispered to the empty room. “But the world is much smaller than you think when I’m the one holding the map.”
