Rajveer ordered his men to search the entire city.
Every road.
Every exit.
Every airport.
From the upper floor of the building, he stood near the wall, the city stretched endlessly beneath him—bright, alive, indifferent to his destruction.
He looked down at his phone.
Anaya’s face smiled back at him from the screen.
A picture from a happier time—her leaning into him, laughing freely, unaware of what she would one day take away. He stared at it longer than he should have.
He had loved her.
Loved her fiercely.
He had waited for this day for years. He had never looked at another woman, never allowed his attention to wander. Loyalty had never been a question for him.
His goals had always been simple.
Build the empire.
Find a queen.
Rule together.
He had stayed focused. Disciplined. Controlled.
Whatever she wanted, he would have given it to her. All he had ever asked in return was her loyalty. Her love.
“Anaya…” he whispered.
His eyes filled with tears.
He shut them tightly, jaw clenched, forcing back the unfamiliar sting behind them.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message.
He opened it.
His breath stilled.
A photo filled the screen.
Anaya.
Standing inside an airport. Smiling softly. Beside her stood a man—his face blurred, indistinct. But Anaya’s face was clear. Too clear.
It was a CCTV capture.
Below it, a message appeared.
Sir. Ms. Anaya boarded an early morning flight at 3:00 a.m.
Destination: United States.
Rajveer stared at the screen.
Seconds passed.
Something inside him went quiet.
Without warning, he hurled the phone against the wall.
The device shattered on impact, pieces scattering across the floor.
Still not satisfied, he turned and strode out, his footsteps heavy, his face carved from stone.
Love had failed him.
What rose in its place was far more dangerous.
Rajveer kicked the door open.
The sound echoed violently through the room.
His eyes burned red, fury barely contained. Myra’s parents stiffened in fear as he stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind him.
Bang.
“Any update, Raj?” his father asked carefully.
Rajveer didn’t answer.
His gaze went straight to Myra’s father—sharp, merciless.
The man stood with his head lowered, unable to meet his eyes. Myra remained frozen in the corner, trembling, fear wrapping tightly around her chest.
“She flew to the U.S.,” Rajveer said at last.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“With another man. A flight at three a.m.”
The room went silent.
His parents froze.
Myra’s mother let out a broken sob, covering her face.
Her father stood unmoving, as if his legs no longer belonged to him.
“What should I do now?” Rajveer asked quietly.
“Cancel the wedding?”
He stepped closer.
Myra felt the hair at the back of her neck rise.
His eyes was shot dagger into her father face..
Then It shifted to her.
Myra.
For a moment, he stared at her.
Not angry.
Not emotional.
Calculating.
Then he grabbed her father by the collar and yanked him forward.
“You will pay,” Rajveer said coldly. “For what your daughter did to me. To my family.”
He loosened his grip slightly, enough for the man to breathe.
“I’m giving you two choices,” he continued. “Listen carefully.”
He paused.
“One—return every cent I invested in your company. Every deal. Every connection.”
His gaze shifted again.
Straight to Myra.
“Or—”
The silence pressed heavily on the room.
Myra slowly lifted her head, dread blooming in her chest.
“Give me your second daughter,” Rajveer said evenly.
The words hit like a blow.
Myra’s breath left her lungs.
Her lips parted, but no sound came.
“Marry her to me. And we forget everything.”
Rajveer released her father with a rough shove. The man stumbled back, barely keeping his balance.
“Raj!” his mother cried. “What are you saying? Stop this!”
His parents moved forward instinctively.
Rajveer lifted a hand.
They froze.
No one spoke.
“I’ll give you five minutes,” he said calmly. “Decide.”
He turned and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. His arm rested casually on the chair, his posture relaxed—almost bored.
As if he had already made peace with the outcome.
His parents turned slowly toward Myra.
She stood there, stunned, her world tilting beneath her feet.
Clueless.
Trapped.
Her parents rushed toward Myra.
Her mother clasped her hands together, trembling, tears streaming down her face.
“Myra…” she cried. “Please agree to this marriage. If you don’t… we’ll be on the streets.”
She clutched Myra’s hands tightly, sobbing.
Her father stood beside them in silence, his face rigid with shame.
Myra looked at him.
“Please,” he said quietly.
That single word broke something inside her.
Tears spilled freely down Myra’s cheeks. She stood there, frozen, her chest aching. She had never imagined a day where her parents would beg her like this.
They had never loved her the way they loved Anaya.
They had never chosen her first.
And yet… they were still her parents.
She couldn’t abandon them.
She wouldn’t.
As Myra struggled with herself, overwhelmed by fear and pain, she didn’t notice her father sink to his knees in front of her.
“Help us,” he whispered. “Please.”
Myra gasped.
“No, Dad—” she cried, pulling him up instantly and wrapping her arms around him. “Please don’t do this.”
Her sobs shook her body.
She bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself to breathe, forcing the sound back.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
“I’ll marry him,” she said.
Her voice was barely audible.
Her head fell forward, her gaze dropping to the floor.
Her parents broke down, holding her as if afraid she might disappear too. Tears soaked into her saree as they clung to her in shared agony.
Her father pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She closed her eyes.
He had never done that before.
When she opened them again, Rajveer stood in front of her.
Watching.
His gaze was steady. Unmoved.
“Good choice,” he said smoothly.
He reached for her hand.
“We’ll get married now.”
Without another word, he guided her forward and lightly pushed her toward his mother.
“Take her to the bride’s room,” he instructed. “Get her ready.”
Then he turned away.
“I’ll be waiting at the mandap.”
And he walked out—
leaving Myra standing there, her fate sealed.
To be continued
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