AUTHOR’S POV 

Vidyut didn’t get a single moment alone with her.
As soon as the ceremony ended, Malvika whisked Vani away with the kids in tow.
He couldn’t even get a clear look at her face.

While he stood still—watching her retreating figure disappear into the car—Karthik came beside him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Congratulations, brother-in-law,” he said with a smirk.

But Vidyut’s jaw was tight. Not because of nerves… but rage.

While Malvika took Vani to the bungalow to get her ready for the traditional Indian wedding set for the evening, Vidyut drove Karthik to another one of his heavily-guarded properties.

But he didn’t stop at the living quarters.

Instead, they descended into the underground—his private dungeon.

There, tied in thick ropes, gagged and bruised, were Vashiya and the college principal.
Vidyut’s men stood in silence, guarding the room. The atmosphere reeked of fear and sweat.

Karthik raised a brow. “Who the hell are they?”

Vidyut chuckled darkly, his tone laced with venom.
He began circling them like a predator.

“They’re the ones who dared to touch my rabbit… when I wasn’t around.”

Karthik exhaled and walked over to the bar stools lined against the far wall. He poured himself a whiskey and sat back.

“So you brought me here for a show?”
He took a sip.
“To watch them die?”

As if on cue, both captives began to beg.

“Sir, please… I didn’t mean to slap her! I’m sorry, sir!”
“I swear, I didn’t do anything… please forgive me!”

Vidyut stilled. His face hardened.

“That’s exactly the problem,” he said coldly, walking toward the principal. “You didn’t do anything. You stood there. And watched.”

Karthik narrowed his eyes. “You slapped my sister-in-law?” he said, voice icy.

He threw back another sip of whiskey and muttered,
“Even your life wouldn’t be enough punishment.”

Vidyut sat down beside him, both of them now facing the trembling duo.

“What do you think?” he asked calmly. “What punishment should we give them?”

Karthik smirked. “Chop them into pieces?”

Vidyut let out a low, menacing laugh.
“Tempting,” he said, swirling his glass, “but too quick. I want them to feel.”

Karthik nodded. He knew his brother-in-law wouldn’t settle for anything less than poetic justice.

Meanwhile…

Vani sat on a cushion, giggling with the twins while her hands were being decorated with intricate mehndi designs. Her milky-white palms were slowly turning into art.

She was smiling, but her heart wasn’t still. It fluttered—restless.

She kept glancing around, trying to spot him.

But Vidyut was nowhere to be seen.

She wasn’t close enough to Malvika to ask openly, and the ache of his absence started sinking in.

The mehndi artist leaned forward and asked,
“Ma’am, name?”

“Vani,” she said absently, still lost in thought.

The artist smiled and continued, “ Ma’am your husband’s name?”

Vani blinked, caught off-guard. Her cheeks flushed.

“…Vidyut,” she said softly. Then repeated more firmly,
“Vidyut Russo.”

The artist grinned, already starting to weave his name into her design. Vani stared at her hands, watching the letters form—his name etched into her skin. Her heart skipped.

After a while, she was taken to a separate room to begin getting ready for the evening ceremony.

But something inside her tugged.

She didn’t know when it happened.
When he became a part of her every breath.
But now—even a few hours without him made her uneasy.
Panicked.

She sat silently in front of the mirror, her bridal jewelry spread out on the table.
Her reflection looked beautiful. But her eyes only searched for him.

Later at the house, Vidyut was dressed in an ivory sherwani with gold embroidery, a matching turban resting regally on his head. He walked to the mandap, sitting cross-legged as the priest began chanting the mantras.

After a while, the priest said, “Call the bride.”

Malvika, who was standing beside her husband Karthik, smiled knowingly and left to bring Vani. The moment Vidyut heard the soft giggle of bangles and the delicate chime of payals, he instinctively stood and turned toward the grand staircase.

And then… she appeared.

Vani descended slowly, wearing a deep red lehenga with hints of magenta, the heavy fabric shimmering with intricate embroidery. Her face was hidden beneath a veil, but her small hands—covered in a deep maroon mehndi—gripped her lehenga carefully as she walked. The sleeves reached her wrists, the neckline dipped modestly, and the skirt looked almost too heavy for her delicate frame.

She was nervous—he could see it in the slight tremble of her form. As she neared the mandap, Vidyut extended his hand. Her palm slipped into his, soft yet trembling, a silent confession of her unease.

Two servants stepped forward with garlands made of lush red and pink roses woven with baby’s breath. Vidyut took one and gently slipped it over her head. The room filled with polite claps.

When it was Vani’s turn, she lifted the garland toward him—but her face barely reached his chest. Karthik’s smirk widened, Malvika smiled but shot her husband a warning glare to stop laughing.

From the side, the little ones began to cheer,
"Maami, you can do it! Just jump a little bit!"

Vani’s fingers tightened on the garland, her veil hiding the tiny pout of determination. Vidyut stood still for a moment, enjoying the scene. For the first time in years, he felt something dangerously close to warmth—a glimpse of what family could be.

And then, in a move that left the adults stunned and the children squealing with delight, Vidyut bent down in front of her. The small ones laughed even harder at the sight of their tall, fearsome mamu bowing.

Under her veil, Vani’s lips curved into a shy smile. She slipped the garland over his neck, and the soft fragrance of roses lingered between them.

After that, Vidyut made her sit on the small stool, then sat beside her. As she settled, the priest began chanting mantras, and both of them focused on the prayers with their whole hearts.

After some time, the priest said, “Call the parents of the bride for kanyadaan.”

Vani’s body stiffened, but before she could react, Vidyut spoke firmly, “There is no one.”

The priest smiled nervously. “Someone… maybe?”

Vidyut’s jaw clenched. His voice turned sharp, “I said there is no one other than me, I am her family, and she is mine now. Continue the wedding.”

The priest hesitated for a moment but continued. Soon after, Malvika came forward to tie the knot between Vidyut’s shawl and Vani’s pallu. Then the priest instructed them to stand for the pheras.

Vidyut stood and helped Vani to her feet, his hand steadying her. As they began walking around the sacred fire, Vidyut held her hand and, with each of the first five pheras where he led, he promised:

“I will be your family.”

“I will give you the happiness of the whole world.”

“I will be your support system in every aspect of your life.”

“I will be there for you every day, every month, every year—till eternity.”

“I will love you every second of my life, with every breath, till my last breath… and maybe after that too.”

Then Vani came in front for the remaining pheras. Her voice trembled but was steady enough to echo in the room:

“I will be there for you every time, even if nobody else stays.”

“I will love you wholeheartedly through every moment of your life and remain right beside you.”

Once the pheras were complete, they returned to the stools. Malvika arrived with a plate holding sindoor and the mangalsutra. Vidyut picked up the nuptial chain and leaned in to fasten it around her neck. Her breath brushed against his jaw, his against her temple, and the closeness sent a shiver down both their spines.

Until today, they had been strangers. From this moment onward, she was his wife, and he was her husband. The weight of that truth made the moment almost too overwhelming to breathe.

Then, slowly, Vidyut reached for her veil. He lifted it to see her face for the first time—her soft eyes meeting his—and for a heartbeat, the world stilled.

For the first time, Vidyut saw her deep, dark black eyes. For the first time, Vani saw his piercing dark blue ones. And in that single look, both melted silently into each other’s gaze.

Breaking the moment just enough, Vidyut took a pinch of vermillion and placed it gently in her hairline. Vani closed her eyes, her heart racing, as he filled the parting of her hair. He left her veil up, unable to look away from her innocent, baby-like face.

The priest’s voice rang out, “Now you both are married.”

Without hesitation, Vidyut took her hand in his, holding it firmly—as if silently vowing never to let go.

And then vidyut vani took the blessing from the priest and he said “ jeete raho sada suhagan raho putr falho ”

( May you live forever and be happy and have  kids .)

Then they came down from the mandap and walked toward Malvika and Karthik.
Vani was about to bow to take Malvika’s blessings, but Malvika pulled her into a warm hug and said,
“May God bless you both with a happy and safe life. Love each other and enjoy every moment.”

Vidyut and Vani smiled at each other. Then Vidyut said, “I want you to meet someone.”
Vani looked at him in confusion, wondering what he meant.

He took her hand and led her out into the garden, where all his guards and his right-hand man were standing in a straight, disciplined line.
As Vani’s eyes moved over them, a flicker of fear ran through her. She instinctively stepped behind Vidyut, peeking from his shoulder.

Vidyut noticed and, secretly, he liked it — the way she knew she had him to protect her from anything.

Meekly, she whispered, “Who are they all?”

Vidyut chuckled and then said curtly,
“BOW DOWN, EVERYONE. SHE IS THE OWNER OF YOUR BOSS.”

Vani froze at his words, stunned. She looked up at him, but he simply took her hands and guided her to stand in front of him. Her dupatta had slipped over her head, framing her delicate face, still shocked and unsure.

One by one, the men bowed before her. Vani gasped and stumbled backward, but Vidyut’s hand steadied her at her waist.

Before she could process what was happening, Vidyut gestured to Malvika to send the children inside. The guards stepped aside, revealing a disturbing scene.

Several women were dancing, but at the center was one woman unlike the rest — she danced barefoot on burning coal, her body engulfed in flames, yet she kept moving as if bound to some unseen rhythm.

Horrified, Vani turned her face toward his chest and clung to Vidyut’s chest and whispered fearfully,
“Why is she dancing like this?”

Vidyut’s gaze stayed cold. In truth, he had planned to tell her that during the hawan, the firewood had not been wood at all — but the bones of the principal who had failed to protect her in his absence. And the dancer was vaishya who had dared to slap her; he had her lips stitched shut so she could not speak, and shackled her feet to the burning coal until she would burn to death.

But he decided against telling her — not tonight. She would be frightened of him.

Instead, he stroked her hair and said lightly,
“It’s nothing, baby. Just a professional dancer.”

Vani lifted her face from his chest, her eyes still clouded with worry.
“But… she’s burning. And she’s dancing on coal.”

Vidyut caressed her temple.
“It’s fake fire, nothing will happen to her. That coal is just for show.”

“Means… she’s safe?” Vani asked softly.

“Of course, bache,” he said, cupping her face.

Still unconvinced, Vani turned to look again at the woman.
“Why can’t we see her face?”

“Maybe she’s not comfortable showing it, so she covered it with fake fire too,” Vidyut replied smoothly. Then, taking her hand, he said, “Come, let’s go in.”

As they walked back inside, Vani’s voice followed him, hesitant,
“But… till when will she dance?”

“It was only for our wedding , and now it’s over, they’ll pack up and leave,” he said casually.

“Ohh…” Vani murmured, still thoughtful.

Before she could ask anything else, Malvika said, “You both should go to your room and rest.”

Vidyut nodded, walked to Vani, and swept her into his arms bridal-style. She gasped while the children giggled, and without a word, he carried his bride upstairs to their room.

As they entered the room, Vidyut gently pushed the door closed with his leg and walked in, still carrying Vani. The faint fragrance of rose petals mixed with sandalwood drifted through the air — the entire room had been decorated for their first night, with candles flickering softly and a trail of petals leading to the bed draped in sheer curtains.

Vani’s cheeks burned with the intimacy of seeing all these decorations , and she immediately looked down, clutching his shoulder tightly. Vidyut smirked faintly at her shyness but didn’t tease her — instead, he walked to the bed and slowly lowered her down, his hands lingering at her waist for a moment longer than necessary.

She shifted nervously, her bangles making a soft tinkling sound, and whispered, “You didn’t have to carry me…”

He tilted his head, his eyes scanning her face with that same unreadable intensity. “I wanted to,” he said simply, his voice calm but with an edge that made her heartbeat quicken. “You’re mine now. I’ll carry you anywhere I want to.”

Her lips parted slightly at his words, but before she could respond, he knelt in front of her and gently removed her heavy bridal heels, placing them to the side. “You must be tired… this lehenga must be weighing more than you,” he said, almost to himself, as his fingers brushed against her ankle.

Vani swallowed hard, unsure whether the flutter in her stomach was from his closeness or the realisation that she was now alone in this room with him — her husband.

Vidyut stood up, loosening his sherwani’s collar, and his deep blue eyes locked onto her. “Freshen up,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’ll be here.”

She nodded, and Vidyut said, “I’ll freshen up in the bathroom. You can use the closet—you’ll be more comfortable there. I’ll just grab my stuff.”

As he spoke, she watched him walk toward the closet. Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Vani’s gaze shifted from the closet to the door, and then she went to open it.

Outside stood the two women who often spoke ill of her. They carried a tall glass of milk. Without much warmth, they handed it to her and said with a smirk, “Get ready for the first night.” Their smiles twisted like that of clowns in a cruel play.

Vani instantly understood the implication. The words struck her like a blow. She quickly set the glass on the side table and hurried into the closet.

Vidyut stepped out just in time to see her rush past him. Before he could ask anything, she was already inside. He assumed she must be tired and wanted to change quickly, so he said nothing. But then his eyes fell on the glass of milk. He sighed heavily, instantly realizing why those women had come.

These maids… They can’t do anything to us. I’m not going to touch her. She’s still young, and until she trusts me—until she asks for it herself—I won’t cross that line.

He shook his head and went back to change.

Meanwhile, Vani was crouched in a corner of the closet, hiding behind a couch so he wouldn’t see her when he came in. Her body trembled. The fear that had been buried deep inside her clawed its way back to the surface. What if he’s like the others? What if tonight…

The memory flashed—
"Today I won’t leave you, you little slut. You’ll give me the pleasure tonight. You’ll be my whore."

Her breathing quickened. She clamped her eyes shut and pressed her palms tightly over her ears, as if she could block out the past. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she bit her lip hard, determined not to let a single sob escape.

She was crying, trying to calm her mind—reminding herself again and again that he wasn’t like that uncle… that he would understand her, love her. But her mind refused to settle. Her heart knew he couldn’t be that cruel, yet it still craved reassurance. The fear of even the tiniest possibility—just 0.000001%—that he might not understand was enough to keep her frozen.

10 minutes passed.

20 minutes.

30 minutes.

Vidyut, now confused about why she was taking so long, finally knocked on the door.
“Vanii…”

No reply.

Inside, her body began trembling.

The silence on the other side filled Vidyut’s chest with an uneasy weight. He knocked again, harder this time—still nothing. A flicker of panic rose in him. Without wasting another moment, he entered.

The room looked empty at first, but then his eyes caught a glimpse of something—a faint red net peeking from behind the couch. Her veil. His heart tightened.

Slowly, he walked toward it, hearing faint, broken sobs. Rounding the corner, he saw her—curled up, trembling, eyes red and wet with fear.

“Vani…” he whispered.

As he reached out, she looked up in terror, stumbled, and crawled backward.
“P-please… please don’t… do anything to me. I… I’m not… comfortable…” she stammered between sobs.

In that moment, Vidyut understood exactly what she feared. Without hesitation, he knelt, gently pulled her into his arms. She clung to him like she’d been waiting for that one safe place, burying herself in his chest.

“Never,” he said firmly, his voice low and sure. “I will never do anything to you. I won’t touch you like that. My rabbit, you are my love, my bacha. We won’t do anything until you say… maybe not even then. I just want you in my life. Only you.”

Her sobs grew louder against him, as though every wall inside her was finally breaking. He lifted her easily into his lap and walked toward the bed.

But when he reached it, she didn’t move to get down.

“Look here, Vani… I won’t do anything. Do you trust your husband?” he asked softly.

She looked at him with tear-stained eyes and nodded—but still refused to leave his lap. So, he sat down on the bed, keeping her close. Slowly, her tears eased as he stroked her back and hair, his touch warm and steady.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

She lifted her face, hesitant.

“You know… when you cry, you look like a little raccoon,” he teased gently. “Your face puffs up just like that.”

Her brows furrowed in mock irritation, and Vidyut chuckled. Her lips curved into a small smile despite herself.

“There’s nothing more important to me than your laugh,” he said softly. “So don’t ever think I’d do anything to hurt you. For tonight, don’t think about anything else.”

She nodded silently, her eyes softer now.

“You should change, Vani,” he said, helping her remove her heavy jewelry, hairpins, and ornaments.

She went to the closet, removed her makeup, freshened up, and returned in a loose shirt and comfortable lower. Vidyut walked over.

“You’ll sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch,” he announced.

She looked at him with guilt. Because of her, he wouldn’t sleep on his own bed.
“Please, Mr. Rus—”

“Don’t you dare finish that,” he interrupted, mock stern. “You’ll sleep on the bed. You’re my wife. And… one more thing. I want a gift from you.”

Her brows knitted in confusion.

“Can you call me Vidyut? Or something else—any nickname you like. I don’t like hearing my formal name from your pretty little mouth,” he said with a boyish grin, almost needy.

She smiled faintly. “I’ll think about that… husband.”

“I like that too,” he chuckled. “But you can modify it if you want.”

They both laughed softly.

He guided her to the bed, tucking her in gently. Pressing a light kiss to her forehead, he murmured, “Good night,” before heading to the couch.

Vani lay there feeling both guilty and incredibly lucky. As the lights dimmed, she listened to the quiet of the room… until sleep slowly wrapped around her.

・。.・゜✭・

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CHRONIC

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