_____10_____

Vayran
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I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the sherwani that screamed royalty, authority, and power—an ironic reflection of my state of mind. The man staring back at me in the glass wasn’t me. The devil in me, the predator who thrived on chaos, wanted none of this. My jaw clenched tightly, a muscle ticking on the side as the reality of the situation weighed heavy. I had warned her. I had told her to back out, to avoid this path, to say no to this marriage. But she didn’t listen. And now, if Aaravika had chosen to walk willingly into the predator’s den, she’d better be ready for the consequences.

Every ritual had been completed, as tradition demanded, but all were carried out separately. Engagement? Done. Family blessings? Done. But even then, I hadn’t spared her a moment of my attention—at least not openly. Aaravika had stolen glances at me as if testing whether the devil in me noticed her. She didn’t know I did—every single movement. Every flicker of her eyes, every stutter of her breath, I saw it all. But I kept my gaze cold, unyielding, and unaffected. It wasn’t indifference. No. It was control. She needed to understand who she was marrying.

I wasn’t the type of man you married for love. I wasn’t the prince riding to rescue her from the demons. I was the demon. I was trained to break my enemies piece by piece, to destroy their minds before taking their lives. The navy seal captain who mentored me once said, “To fight with intelligence is to fight ahead of your enemy.” I took that mantra, turned it into a game of dark strategy, and conquered. But when it came to those who dared to cross me, my game didn’t end with a clean death. No. It ended in torment. I wasn’t just their Yama. I made them beg for hell.

And now Aaravika had invited me to her destruction. If she thought this was going to be a marriage of equals, she was mistaken. I wasn’t the man for happily-ever-afters. I was the storm, and she had chosen to walk right into it.

Just as that thought sharpened, I heard the faintest shuffle of footsteps outside. My ears picked up the sound before it even reached the door. A knock followed, but I already knew who it was. Years of training had honed my senses. "Come in," I said, my voice steady, sharp like the blade I’d mastered long ago.

The door opened, and as expected, two figures stepped in—my Grandfather walked in first, his face stoic as always, followed closely by Tanvik. My best friend. If he had a surname, no one knew it—not even him. An orphan who had somehow wormed his way into my life during high school. Back then, he was an introverted boy, painfully silent. So was I. We didn’t speak for months after meeting, but sometimes silence is a language of its own. Somewhere along the way, without warning, we became friends. Maybe because he didn’t ask for anything. Or maybe because his experiments in cooking gave me a distraction from my relentless pursuit of power.

He stood frozen, his eyes wide and slightly dazed at the sight of me in groom’s attire. It wasn’t disbelief—it was shock. I could see the wheels in his head spinning. He hadn’t known. No one but the core family had known about this farce of a marriage.

Tanvik walked closer, his expression shifting from disbelief to excitement as he side-hugged me. "I can’t believe it! You’re actually getting married, Vayran!" His voice was full of genuine enthusiasm. Poor bastard had no idea.

I smirked, dark and amused, deciding to throw a curveball at him. "Don’t get too excited. It’s a contract marriage."

His expression dropped instantly. The shock was palpable. "A contract?" he started, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.

I raised a hand to silence him. "I’ll explain later. On the way to the resort. For now, just…deal with it."

Tanvik didn’t press further, though the curiosity burned in his eyes. Grandpa, on the other hand, gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher—part pity, part resignation. I didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. This wasn’t about emotion or family.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The drive to the luxury resort was uneventful. Tanvik peppered me with questions, as expected, but I gave him clipped responses, saving the details for later. The resort itself wasn’t impressive—it was ordinary in my world. Born into royalty, I’d grown up surrounded by opulence.

When we reached the mandap, I strode to the seat reserved for the groom and sat down, my posture relaxed but my presence radiating authority. I could feel the weight of every gaze on me. It didn’t matter. Tanvik, ever the curious fool, had gone to meet Aaravika. My grandfather mingled with the family members I barely tolerated.

The priest chanted the mantras, his voice steady and rhythmic, but it was only background noise to me. My mind was elsewhere, calculating, observing.

And then I felt her presence.

I didn’t have to look to know it was her. The faintest shuffle of her lehenga and anklets walking on the aisle —it all announced her arrival.

I turned my head as I froze after looking at her.

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Hi! It's me Shabnam😸, and I hope you liked the story 😉 Don't forget to like and follow me!
I know it took quite a long time to release the chapter but I hope you aren't disappointed as finally they are getting married🥳
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