Chapter 66: Chapter Fifty Nine.

“Ah…” Meera groaned, her voice weak and raspy as she slowly blinked her eyes open. Her vision was hazy, the world around her spinning slightly as a sharp, pounding ache throbbed in her skull. She winced, bringing a trembling hand to her temple, her fingers brushing against damp strands of her hair.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as she tried to gather her bearings.

The blinding blur gradually faded, shapes becoming clearer, colors more defined.

The soft, luxurious mattress beneath her was too comfortable for the situation she found herself in, and that realization sent a shiver down her spine.

She shot upright, her heart racing. A surge of dizziness washed over her, but she fought through it, gripping the edge of the mattress tightly to steady herself.

Panic clawed at her chest as her eyes darted around the room—a spacious, lavishly decorated bedroom with opulent gold accents, velvet drapes, and an enormous chandelier that hung like a silent observer from the ceiling.

Where am I?

Meera’s throat was dry, her heart thundering in her chest like a war drum.

Fear slithered its way into her veins, cold and unforgiving.

She didn’t recognize the room, and worse—she didn’t remember how she got there.

The last thing she recalled was struggling against a cloth pressed over her mouth, the sickly-sweet smell invading her senses before darkness swallowed her whole.

I need to get out of here.

Her legs wobbled as she swung them over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold, marble floor.

Every movement was a struggle, but adrenaline pushed her forward. Just as she managed to stand, the door creaked open, making her freeze mid-step.

Her breath hitched, her wide, terrified eyes locked on the doorway.

But instead of Ranveer—or worse—armed guards, a group of five young women entered the room.

They were dressed in simple uniforms, their expressions a mixture of nervousness and forced politeness.

They carried an assortment of luxurious fabrics, vibrant sarees adorned with intricate embroidery, and several ornate jewelry boxes that shimmered under the chandelier’s light.

The girls moved quietly, placing the items neatly on the bed and the couch as if they were performing a rehearsed routine.

“Greetings, ma’am” one of the girls said softly, offering a timid smile that didn’t reach her anxious eyes.

Meera’s chest heaved with ragged breaths. Her fear didn’t subside–it shifted. She didn’t trust these girls, not when she had no idea who they were or what they wanted.

“We’re here to get you ready.” another girl added gently, her voice trembling slightly.

Meera’s eyes narrowed. “Get me ready? For what?”

The girls exchanged nervous glances, clearly debating who would deliver the answer that Meera’s gut already feared.

Finally, the boldest of them stepped forward, her eyes darting away from Meera’s piercing gaze.

“Sir has instructed us to prepare you for your wedding. We’ve brought everything needed, and we’ve been given a strict timeline to follow.”

The words hit Meera like a slap. Her stomach twisted violently.

Wedding?

Her mind raced, connecting dots she didn’t want to believe.

Ranveer.

“No!” Meera’s voice erupted, raw and filled with fury. She shook her head aggressively, her chest heaving. “No! I am NOT getting married! Get Out!”

The sudden outburst startled the girls, their eyes widening in fear. They stumbled back instinctively.

“M-Ma’am… please, we—” one of them tried to speak, her voice trembling.

“I SAID GET OUT!” Meera screamed, her voice echoing off the ornate walls.

In a fit of rage, she grabbed the nearest jewelry box and hurled it across the room.

It hit the wall with a loud crack, scattering gold bangles and jewels across the floor like fallen stars.

She didn’t stop there. She shoved the luxurious fabrics off the bed, kicking at the ornate boxes as tears of frustration welled in her eyes.

Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears.

The girls didn’t need to be told twice. Terrified, they scrambled for the door, nearly tripping over each other in their haste to escape.

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Meera standing in the middle of the wreckage, her chest heaving with heavy breaths.

But she wasn’t done.

I need to get out of here. Now.

Fueled by pure desperation, Meera sprinted toward the door. She flung it open, only to freeze when she came face-to-face with two large, heavily armed bodyguards stationed right outside.

Their cold, expressionless faces were enough to tell her she wouldn’t get past them.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and quickly shut the door again, leaning against it as panic surged through her like a tidal wave. She was trapped.

Her wild eyes darted around the room, searching for any possible escape.

That’s when she spotted it—a floor-to-ceiling glass door leading to a balcony. The pale light spilled through it, casting a hopeful glow across the floor.

Without thinking, she rushed toward it, her bare feet slipping slightly against the smooth marble.

She yanked the door open, the cool breeze from the ocean hitting her face like a slap, waking her senses.

The balcony was spacious, with an ornate railing that overlooked the dense foliage below and the glimmering stretch of water beyond.

The view was breathtaking, but all Meera could see was one thing—freedom.

Her heart raced as she assessed the distance from the balcony to the ground.

It wasn’t a fatal drop, but it would hurt. Still, pain was a small price to pay compared to what awaited her if she stayed.

I have to try.

She gripped the cold metal railing, her knuckles turning white.

Taking a deep breath, she hoisted herself up, her legs swinging over the edge. Just as she was about to climb down—

The door behind her burst open.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ranveer’s chilling voice echoed through the room.

Meera froze, her body trembling as she slowly turned her head. Ranveer stood there, his face twisted in a dark smile.

"You will hurt yourself Sweetheart."

Meera’s scream pierced the air as she tried to climb over the railing, but strong hands grabbed her before she could slip away.

She kicked, fought, and thrashed with every ounce of strength she had, but it wasn’t enough.

She was dragged back inside, her heart shattering as the balcony—and her fleeting chance at freedom—faded from sight.

♧♧

Ranveer’s grip on Meera’s arm tightened before he finally shoved her away with a force that made her stumble.

Regaining her balance, she spun around, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, her eyes burning with fury. She glared at him, her gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.

Ranveer stood there, his disheveled hair falling slightly over his forehead, a sickening smile creeping onto his face, his dimples deepening—dimples that once made Meera smile, but now filled her with nothing but disgust.

“Gosh.” he drawled, his voice thick with mock admiration, “you look so hot when you’re angry.”

Meera’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She took a step forward, her rage drowning out the fear that had been gnawing at her.

“What the hell is your problem?” she spat, her voice trembling with fury. “What twisted little voice in your head told you I’d ever marry you?”

Ranveer’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider, more deranged. His dark eyes gleamed with something dangerous, something unhinged.

“Darling.” he said softly, as if speaking to a fragile child, “I hate it when you struggle. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? All this fighting when we both know how this ends.”

He took a step toward her, but Meera instinctively backed away, her glare never wavering.

“I don’t like it when you’re stressed.” he added with a mocking pout. “But don’t worry. We’re getting married. It’s all arranged. How else are we going to start a family?”

Meera’s chest tightened with rage. She let out a bitter, humorless laugh, shaking her head.

“You are delusional. Completely insane!” she snapped, stepping closer until they were face-to-face, her voice rising with every word. “Read my lips, Ranveer—I WILL NEVER, NEVER MARRY YOU! NEVER!”

The words struck like a slap. Ranveer’s smile twitched, faltered for a split second, then returned—but this time darker, more sinister.

In a flash, his hand shot out, gripping Meera’s chin with brutal force, his fingers digging into her skin as he yanked her face closer.

Their noses almost touched, and Meera could feel his hot, uneven breath against her cheek. His eyes—those dark, hollow pits—roamed over her face with a mixture of obsession and rage.

His voice dropped to a menacing whisper, each word soaked with venom.

“If I can’t have you, Meera.” he hissed, “I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill myself. But Arjun? He’ll never have you. No man will.”

The threat hung heavy in the air, suffocating. He released her with a shove, and Meera stumbled back, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

She glared at him through the tears that welled up in her eyes—not from fear, but from sheer frustration and helpless rage.

Ranveer straightened his collar, brushing imaginary dust from his shirt, regaining his eerie composure. Then he tilted his head slightly, a wicked smirk curling his lips.

“Oh, did I mention?” he said casually, like he was talking about the weather. “I’ve had explosives planted at your house—both the front and the back. Just one press of a button, and poof—your loving family is gone.”

Meera’s eyes went wide, her blood running cold.

“You’re lying.” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.

Ranveer chuckled darkly, pulling out a small remote from his pocket, his thumb hovering lazily over the button.

“Am I?” he taunted. “Go ahead, call my bluff. But don’t worry—it’s not just your parents. Veda is in Bangalore. Kidnapping her will be surprisingly easy, yeah?. I’m thinking of putting her on the black market. What do you think? Good idea, right?”

Meera’s knees nearly gave out. She reached for the edge of the table beside her to steady herself, her vision blurring with tears.

“Why?” she whispered hoarsely. “Why are you doing this?”

Ranveer’s expression softened—at least what he thought was soft. His madness twisted every word he spoke, every gesture laced with delusion.

“Because I love you, Meera.” he replied, stepping closer again. “And I hate that Arjun wants you. I hate that you have even the smallest space for him in your heart. If I can’t have you, he definitely can’t. No man can. I’d rather burn the whole world down than see you with someone else.”

Meera’s tears spilled over, but her spirit didn’t break. She swallowed her fear, her voice shaking but defiant.

“You don’t love me.” she whispered. “You just want to own me. You’re nothing but a monster.”

Ranveer’s jaw clenched. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his touch making her flinch.

“Call me whatever you like.” he murmured darkly. “But you’ll be my wife soon. So be a good girl and get ready.”

His eyes glinted with malicious triumph as he stepped back, heading for the door.

“You have one hour, wifey.” he said over his shoulder, his voice dripping with mock affection. “The pandit(priest) is on his way.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Meera standing in the middle of the room, shaking with rage, fear, and determination.

Anyone, please help me... Arjun...

♧♧♧

The mansion stood like a fortress—a beacon of everything Arjun hated at this moment: power, control, and the woman he loved trapped within its walls.

Arjun’s car screeched to a halt a good distance from the mansion, hidden from view by thick trees and the shadows of the night.

His grip tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking with barely contained fury.

Karan, seated beside him, glanced nervously at his friend. His heart pounded—not from fear of the mission ahead but from the sheer intensity radiating off Arjun.

“Are you sure about this, Arjun?” Karan asked for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice low but tense.

Arjun’s eyes snapped to him, burning with rage and desperation. He didn’t need to say much; the look in his eyes was enough to silence an army.

“My woman is in there.” Arjun seethed, his voice like gravel, rough and laced with venom. “Do I look like I’m not sure?”

Karan swallowed hard, nodding without another word. There was no room for doubt. Not tonight. Not when Meera’s life hung in the balance.

“Just do as I tell you.” Arjun barked, his voice sharp as a blade. “Go. Now.”

Karan stared at him for a heartbeat longer, then nodded with fierce determination.

Without another word, he slipped out of the car and into the darkness, disappearing as planned to execute his part of the mission.

Arjun exhaled sharply, his breath fogging slightly in the cool night air.

His eyes shifted back to the mansion—its towering walls, its guarded doors—and his fists clenched tighter.

His pulse was a roar in his ears, drowning out everything except one singular thought: I’m coming for you, Meera.

With silent steps, he advanced toward the mansion.

Meanwhile, inside the mansion…

Meera sat motionless on an ornate chair, her reflection staring back at her from the grand mirror. But the woman in the mirror didn’t look like her.

Her face was painted with delicate strokes of makeup, her eyes lined perfectly, her lips tinted a soft red.

Her skin glowed under the golden light, adorned with layers of intricate jewelry—necklaces heavy enough to feel like chains, bangles that clinked with every slight movement, and a bright red wedding saree that draped around her like a shroud.

She looked like a goddess. A stunning, radiant goddess.

But her eyes…

Her eyes were hollow. Lifeless. Void of the fire that once danced within them.

She stared at her reflection, feeling disconnected from the woman staring back. *Who is she?* That wasn’t Meera. That was a doll—dressed up, polished, and packaged for a life she didn’t choose.

She hated it.

She hated the way the fabric clung to her like it belonged. She hated the weight of the jewelry that felt like shackles.

She hated the fake smiles of the women around her, their voices soft and sweet, trying to dress up her nightmare like it was some fairy tale.

One of the girls styling her hair, clearly trying to ease the tension in the suffocating room, gave a hesitant smile.

“Ma’am… y-you look really beautiful.” she stammered gently, her fingers trembling slightly as she fixed a stray strand of Meera’s hair.

“Your skin is flawless, and your hair is so soft and healthy.”

But Meera didn’t respond. Not even a blink. Her eyes remained fixed on the mirror, staring straight through the girl as if she wasn’t there.

The other women exchanged awkward, sympathetic glances.

They weren’t blind. They saw the misery etched into every line of Meera’s face. They saw the silent screams behind her empty eyes.

They were just pawns—forced to play a role in a nightmare they couldn’t escape either.

After a few more silent moments, one of them cleared her throat softly, her voice hesitant.

“Ma’am… we’re done. You’ll stay here for a bit until we’re told to bring you… okay?”

Still no response. Just the deafening silence.

Taking the hint, the girls gathered their things quickly and slipped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

Now, alone with her reflection, Meera’s composure finally cracked.

Her eyes shifted slightly, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. The woman staring back at her looked so perfect, so polished—yet completely hollow inside.

Is this what life is supposed to be? she wondered bitterly. Is this what it means to be powerless?

A single tear slid down her cheek, cutting through the layers of makeup like a scar. She didn’t wipe it away. She just let it fall, her body numb, her heart screaming in silence.

But somewhere, buried beneath all that despair, a tiny spark still flickered.

Arjun…

She didn’t know where he was. She didn’t even know if he knew what was happening.

But in that small, fragile spark, she clung to the hope that he was out there—that he would come for her.

Because if he didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could survive this.

♡♡♡

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