Mishthi came running toward him excitedly while holding multiple shopping bags in both her hands. Devraj, who was standing beside the car waiting for her, immediately smiled the moment he saw her running like that. And as soon as she reached close enough, he instantly opened his arms and pulled her comfortably into his embrace.
Mishthi immediately started talking nonstop without even giving him time to speak.
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She sat in front of the mirror, quietly observing her reflection as if she were trying to understand the woman staring back at her. There was no hurry in her movements, no nervousness either. Just a calm stillness surrounded her, as if she had already accepted something long ago. Her hair was neatly parted, filled with a deep line of sindoor that stood out against her dark strands. A small red bindi rested perfectly between her brows, simple yet striking. She wore no makeup, yet there was an undeniable glow on her face, something raw and untouched. Her wrists were adorned with layers of bangles that softly clinked with every slight movement. Around her neck hung a mangalsutra, its presence both heavy and meaningful. Every element she wore enhanced her beauty, making her look like a bride anyone would admire without a second thought. She slowly stood up, adjusting the folds of her attire, her eyes still fixed on her reflection. There was no hesitation, no doubt. Just a quiet acknowledgment of what she had become in this new life. A faint smile touched her lips. “I look perfect… don’t I?” Her voice was soft, almost amused, as if she already knew the answer. She tilted her head slightly, studying herself one last time before her expression settled into something deeper, something that could not be seen on the surface. “Perfect enough to be someone’s bride…” There was a pause. “But never enough to be chosen.” Her fingers lightly brushed against the mangalsutra, feeling its weight as her eyes softened, not with weakness, but with understanding. She knew the truth. No matter how beautiful she looked, no matter how perfectly she fit into the image of a bride, she was never the one he wanted. She was not his choice. She never had been. And that was exactly who she was. THE UNCHOSEN BRIDE.
Tears filled her eyes, blurring everything around her, until it felt impossible to breathe. The walls closed in on her, the silence grew louder, and staying inside became unbearable. She pushed the door open and stepped onto the balcony, hoping the open air would calm the storm inside her heart. It was evening. From the fiftieth floor, the sinking sun painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson, a breathtaking view that only made her ache more. The beauty of the moment felt cruel, reminding her of everything she was trying so hard not to feel. She pressed her lips together and tried to stop herself from crying, refusing to let her tears fall. Then, against her better judgment, she looked down. The dizzying height made her head spin instantly. The world tilted, her balance failed, and she stumbled backward. Before she could fall, strong arms caught her. Startled, she turned around. He stood in front of her. So close. Her eyes were wet, her lashes heavy with unshed tears, and a thousand unspoken questions reflected in her gaze. The confusion, the pain, the fear, and the longing in her eyes pierced straight through him. It unsettled him more than any accusation ever could. He did not wait for her to speak. Instead, as if afraid she might break if given another second, he cupped her face and silenced every doubt, every fear, and every question with his lips against hers. Soft. Certain. Unapologetic. A kiss that was not just a confession, but a promise. A promise that she was not alone. A promise that he would not walk away. A promise that sometimes, love speaks louder than words. And in that stolen moment, between falling and being saved, between doubt and devotion, she realized that some destinies are not chosen. They are claimed.
There’s a victorious smile on his face, the kind that belongs to a man who has finally conquered everything he ever wanted. Drunk on his own triumph, he enters the room quietly, the sound of the door closing echoing like the seal of destiny. And there she stands before him, a bride. His prize. The proof of his victory. As his gaze lingers on her, there’s no warmth in his eyes, only possession. She doesn’t look away, but her eyes hold no sparkle, no life only tears that fall silently, betraying the storm within her. He takes slow, deliberate steps toward her, his voice sharp, laced with pride and cruelty. “You made a big mistake trying to defeat me. Look now I’ve written my name over your entire life. What will you do now?” And in that moment, under the weight of his words, she realizes her silence has become her rebellion, and his victory… might just be his greatest downfall.
She had learned to recognize his footsteps. Not by sound, because he walked too softly for that, but by the way the air in the room changed when he entered. The silence became heavier, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. She kept her eyes on the floor, her fingers tightening around the end of her saree, her knuckles turning pale. She didn’t know what he would do today, and that was the worst part, not the anger, not the pain, but the uncertainty. A hand reached out and lifted her chin, not gently, not cruelly, just firmly enough to remind her that she did not get to choose where she looked. “Why do you look scared?” he asked quietly. She didn’t answer. She had learned that answers often made things worse. His thumb pressed lightly against her lower lip, as if testing whether she would speak without permission. Then he smiled, slow, calm, almost affectionate. “I have told you before,” he whispered, his face close enough that she could feel his breath, “I don’t like it when you look at me like I’m a monster.” His grip tightened slightly, just enough to hurt. “But I do like,” he continued softly, “that you’re scared of me.” Her eyes finally lifted to his, and that was her mistake. Because the look in his eyes was not anger. It was satisfaction. And that was far more frightening.
The moment her eyes fluttered open, panic coursed through her veins. The room felt strange, unfamiliar, and suffocating. Fear clawed at her throat as she sat up in haste, her only thought to escape. With trembling legs, she rushed toward the gate, desperate for freedom. But before her fingers could even graze the handle, a powerful arm seized her, pulling her back into a prison of warmth and strength.Her terrified eyes widened as she looked up at him, her body stiffening in his embrace. Every inch of her screamed to run, yet her fragile hands pushed helplessly against his chest, her trembling betraying her fear. He, however, only held her tighter, pressing her so close that she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her frantic one. A dangerous smile tugged at his lips as he lowered his face closer to hers.“Where do you think you’re running?” His voice was deep, thick with authority, but laced with an unsettling tenderness. “Our marriage happened just yesterday.”Her eyes filled with tears, her lips quivering as she whispered, “That was forced… I don’t accept this relationship.”For a long moment, he said nothing, only gazing into her with eyes that burned like fire. His stare was heavy, suffocating, yet there was something in it that sent shivers through her, an obsession, a desperate hunger that was far more dangerous than cruelty. His large hand slid down to catch hers, pressing it firmly against his chest where his heart thudded violently.“Listen,” he said lowly, his tone a mix of threat and plea, “you can deny me, but the truth is you are my wife now.”She shook her head violently, struggling, tears streaking her cheeks. “No… let me go…”Her resistance only fueled his anger. With a swift motion, he scooped her onto his shoulder, ignoring her cries, and carried her across the room like a possession he would never part with. He dropped her onto the bed with controlled force, his body immediately pinning hers as he trapped her wrists above her head.Leaning over her, his lips brushed against her temple, lingering dangerously close. “In this life, Swara, you cannot escape me. That’s not just a promise, it’s fate. Whether you embrace our relationship with happiness or force, you’ll still end up mine…. Always mine…. Remember this.”After listening to him, she cried harder. His voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent yet terrifyingly possessive. “Even your tears are mine. Even your fear.” His thumb brushed the corner of her lips, his gaze locked on her trembling mouth. “One day, you’ll stop running… and you’ll realize there’s no safer place than my arms.”Her breath hitched, torn between terror and the confusing pull of his intensity, while he continued to watch her as though she were the only thing keeping him alive.
She has tears in her eyes, and she is standing close to the wall while pressing her mouth with both her hands. She can easily hear the sounds of shoes coming very close to her, but she does not have the courage to move an inch away from there. The sound stops suddenly. She sits down while sliding on the wall. A man's voice makes her condition worse. "Jaan" "Jaan, come out quickly, baby; I want to see you." She immediately stands up and tries to run away from there. But he quickly arrives there and grabs her from behind. He begins to inhale the natural scent of her body before placing his lips on her neck and commencing his torture. "Leave me ..... " She is unable to bear his torture and falls unconscious.
She is smiling looking at the sky while sitting there in the floodlight of the moonlit night. She loves to come and sit here often. But as soon as she realizes that he is behind her, she immediately turns her face, smiles even wider, and looks at him immediately. I am waiting for you because today again I want to tell you. I love you I love you I love you. But he still does not move even an inch from his place, not even a single word comes out from his mouth. She is very suspicious about it. She immediately asks him "Veer you still love me Nah, say it you love me" There have some tears of blood in his eyes, he starts moving backward. It is very hard for him but he disappeared into the darkness. "No veer." "Please no don't go again, don't leave me again." "I love you veer." She ran after him but he is not there. "Veer " "Veer " She is screaming very loudly but no one response to her back. "Veer no, please come back" She holds her hands tightly looks up at the sky and opens her palms with her teary vision and screams again "Blood" "Veer" "I killed you.”
Her eyes are tightly clenched as he continues to pound on her. His face dropped into her neck's crook. She firmly grasps his shoulders. However, she takes great care to ensure that her nails don't graze him. He let go and put his weight on her small, skinny body. She relaxes her hold on his shoulders, and he lifts his face away from her sweaty, red-flushed crook to get a good look at her face. He sighed and looked proudly at her upper body, where his art is on display. He then kisses her lips and completely inhales her oxygen. She closes her eyes and moves her lips in response to his lead. He turned away from her and properly covered himself before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. She welcomes the sight of his back when she opens her eyes and turns to face him. She correctly covers her face and lets out a heavy sigh. Without spending any time, she quickly gathers her clothing from the floor and puts it on. She lays down on her side once again, but this time her back is on his side. There is a sizable space separating them. She attempts to go to sleep by closing her eyes, but she finds it completely difficult. THIS IS THE FIRST PART OF LOVE WINS SERIES. I HOPE YOU WILL ENJOY IT.
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