Chapter 5

After the welcoming ceremony,  Aaradhya was sent to a room for her to change for upcoming rituals, but after getting ready as soon as she came out only to get shocked.

Aaradhya's heart pounded violently against her ribs, her entire body trembling with the weight of what had just happened.

Vijayendra stood before her, his dark, piercing gaze holding her captive. Unyielding. Unforgiving. A predator who had finally caught his prey.

"Welcome home, biwi" He said.

"Please, let me go," she forced out, her voice shaky but determined. "I don’t accept this marriage. It’s nothing but a joke—"

Her words cut off as he moved.

In the blink of an eye, he had grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward until her soft frame crashed against his hard chest. A startled gasp left her lips as she tried to push away, but his grip was unrelenting.

"Joke?" he murmured, his voice laced with deadly calm. "Tane lagta hai yeh sab ek mazak hai?" (You think this is all a joke?)

His fingers dug into her skin, not enough to hurt, but enough to make his dominance clear.

Aaradhya swallowed, her breathing ragged. "It is to me. I never wanted this. I never agreed to this marriage, and I never will. Tum jo bhi socho, Vijayendra, tum mujhe apna majboor ghulaam nahi bana sakte!" (No matter what you think, Vijayendra, you can’t make me your helpless slave!)

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. But there was no amusement in his eyes.

"Ghulaam?" He let out a low chuckle, dark and bone-chilling. "Nahi, Aaradhya. Tujhe ghulaam banaane ka koi shauk nahi hai mujhe…" (No, Aaradhya. I have no interest in making you a slave.)

His fingers slid from her wrist to the delicate curve of her jaw, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him.

"Par jo maine ek baar apna keh diya, woh sirf mera hota hai." (But what I claim once, belongs only to me.)

Her breath caught. There was no warmth, no affection—only ruthless possession.

"I will never be yours," she whispered.

His smirk widened. "Bolegi tu bahut kuch, Aaradhya…" (You’ll say a lot, Aaradhya…) His thumb brushed against her lower lip, mockingly, possessively.

"Par yeh jo aankhon ka darr hai… yeh jo saanson ki bechaini hai… Yeh keh rahi hai ki tu jaan chhudaana chahti zaroor hai, par chahti bhi hai ki main tujhe na jaane du." (But this fear in your eyes, this nervous breath of yours… They tell me that you want to escape, yet you also want me to never let you go.)

Aaradhya’s entire body froze.

Horrified.

Furious.

A flush of shame crawled up her throat. "That’s not true," she spat, her voice venomous.

Vijayendra only chuckled.

A cruel, knowing sound.

"Jhooth kitne bhi bol le, Aaradhya," he murmured, lowering his head, his lips a breath away from her trembling ones. "Par sach toh yeh hai ki main yeh shaadi kabhi khatam nahi hone dunga." (Lie all you want, Aaradhya. But the truth is, I will never let this marriage end.)

Her fingers curled into fists. She wanted to slap him. To scream at him. To make him understand that she wasn’t his to control.

But then he crushed the last of her delusions.

"Pandra saal intezaar kiya hai maine, thaara vaaste." (I have waited fifteen years, for you)

His voice was no longer soft.

It was a command. A brutal declaration of his claim over her.

"Tu maari hai. Tu maari banegi." (You are mine. You will become mine.)

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear.

"Iss janam mein tujhse door jaane ka koi sawaal hi nahi uthta." (In this lifetime, there is no question of letting you go.)

Aaradhya snapped.

"Bas!" She shoved at him with all her might, her breath ragged, her vision blurring with anger and helplessness. "You can’t force me! I will never—never—"

But her words ended in a sharp gasp as he caught her wrists again, this time slamming them against the cold wooden door behind her.

He trapped her between the door and himself, his hands pinning hers above her head, his body pressing into her softness, making it impossible for her to escape.

"You will never?" he taunted, his lips hovering just above hers. "Toh yeh bechaini kyun hai?" (Then why is there restlessness in your eyes?)

Her breath hitched as he lowered his face, brushing his nose against her cheek, slow, tormenting.

"I will never love you," she hissed.

Vijayendra stilled.

For a moment, his grip tightened almost painfully. Then, just as suddenly, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Love?" He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze cold as ice.

"Maine tere pyaar ki bheek maangne ka socha bhi nahi, Aaradhya." (I have never begged for your love, Aaradhya.)

His lips curled into a smirk, but this time, it was cruel. Merciless.

"Mujhe sirf tu chahiye. Pyaar kare ya na kare, fark nahi padta." (I only want you. Whether you love me or not doesn’t matter.)

Aaradhya felt her entire world crumble.

This was not a man who would be swayed by her resistance.

This was not a man who could be reasoned with.

He was ruthless. Possessive.

And he had already decided her fate.

She shuddered as he leaned in one last time, his voice a whisper against her skin.

"Shaadi ho chuki hai. Tujhe maan na hi padega, Aaradhya." (The marriage is already done. You will have to accept it, Aaradhya.)

His lips barely brushed against the shell of her ear when they heard someone's knocking on the door.

"Aur tujhe meri banane ki jo kasam maine khayi hai… usse main todne waalon mein se nahi hoon." (And the vow I have taken to make you mine… I am not the kind of man to break it.)

With that, he stepped back, releasing her abruptly.

Aaradhya nearly stumbled forward, her breathing rapid, her entire body trembling from the sheer force of his dominance.

He had caged her without shackles.

She had thought she could demand her freedom.

But Vijayendra Singh had already made his decision.

He was never letting her go.

.

.

The evening moon's white hues spread across the sprawling haveli, but inside Aaradhya’s heart, there was nothing but a storm brewing beneath her fragile composure.

Aaradhya sat in the center of the large hall, surrounded by family, the air thick with the scent of incense and freshly ground turmeric. The women of the house, clad in vibrant lehengas and heavy jewelry, circled around her, their voices a mix of teasing and tradition.

But she felt nothing.

No joy, no excitement—only a suffocating weight pressing against her chest.

The rituals after marriage, the ones meant to celebrate a new bride’s arrival, were being performed around her, yet she felt like a mere spectator in her own life.

She clenched her fists as the sindoor in her maang and the heavy mangalsutra around her neck felt like shackles.

"Aaradhya, beta, chhoti dulhan ko mehndi lagao!" (Aaradhya, dear, put mehendi on the younger bride!)

One of the older women laughed, nudging her teasingly. "Vijayendra ke naam ki mehendi lagne do… dekho rang kitna gehra chadhta hai." (Put mehendi in Vijayendra’s name… let’s see how deep the color gets.)

Aaradhya bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping.

She didn’t want this. She didn’t want him.

Yet here she was, being prepared, dressed, and adorned like a queen—only to be handed over to a tyrant.

Her thoughts were interrupted as her cousin Riya, who came along with her leaned in, whispering mischievously, "Ab toh pehla raat bhi hai, di…" (Now there's also the first night, sister…)

Aaradhya’s breath hitched.

The first night.

Her fingers instinctively curled against her lap, her body going rigid.

Riya smirked. "Darr lag raha hai?" (Are you scared?)

Aaradhya forced a tight smile. "Pagal mat ban." (Don’t be silly.)

But inside, her heart thundered with an unfamiliar fear. What would happen tonight?

Would Vijayendra demand what was rightfully his? Would he be gentle? Or would he break her, the way he had broken every hope she had left?

She shivered, and Riya chuckled. "Bas bas, zyada sharmao mat. Waise bhi jeeju toh pura junglee hai, kuch zyada hi possessive hai tere liye." (Okay, okay, don’t blush too much. Anyway, brother-in-law is a total wild one, he’s too possessive about you.)

Possessive.

The word sent a chill down her spine.

Aaradhya wasn’t blushing. She was dreading.

---

It was late evening , Aaradhya sat still, draped in a heavy red saree, her hands adorned with fresh henna, as the women of the house surrounded her. The air buzzed with laughter, teasing remarks, and the clinking of silverware as the morning rituals began.

But all she could think about was escape.

Her fingers curled into fists beneath the folds of her saree. Her mind raced, planning, strategizing—she had to leave before it was too late.

But then, a shadow loomed over her.

Aaradhya stiffened as Vijayendra stepped into the courtyard, his gaze locking onto hers.

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Aaradhya," his deep voice drawled, sending chills down her spine.

She forced herself to look away, ignoring the way her pulse skipped a beat at his presence.

"Chalo, phera rasam shuru kare," one of the elderly women announced. (Let’s start the post-wedding rituals.)

The air was filled with excitement, but Aaradhya felt suffocated.

She was made to sit beside Vijayendra, the closeness unbearable. His scent—smoky sandalwood and something inherently him—wrapped around her, making it impossible to breathe.

He leaned in slightly, his voice just for her ears.

"Kitna bhi bhaag le, Biwi," he murmured, his tone laced with amusement. (Run all you want, wife.)

"Par aakhir main waapas yahi aana padega." (But in the end, you’ll have to come back here.)

Aaradhya swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers digging into the fabric of her saree.

No.

She refused to accept this fate.

Her heart pounded as she discreetly glanced around. There had to be a way out.

And then, she saw it—an open passage near the kitchen leading to the back of the haveli.

A plan formed in her mind.

As the rituals continued, Aaradhya waited for the perfect moment. The second the women got distracted in their chatter, she stood abruptly, feigning dizziness.

"Mujhe thodi der akela rehna hai," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. (I need to be alone for a while.)

The elders nodded in understanding, allowing her to leave.

Her heart raced as she carefully stepped away, each movement calculated.

She kept her expression blank, her steps steady, but inside, every cell in her body screamed for her to run.

And the moment she reached the passage—she broke into a sprint.

Her bare feet pounded against the stone floor as she ran through the dimly lit corridor, her breath ragged, her heartbeat erratic.

The haveli was vast, but she knew the exit was near.

Just a little more…

Just a few more steps, and—

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her back.

Aaradhya gasped as her body collided against a familiar wall of warmth and strength.

No.

No, no, no!

"Chhod mujhe!" she thrashed, but he didn’t even budge. (Let me go!)

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Bohot tez bhag rahi thi, Biwi." (You were running quite fast, wife.)

Aaradhya struggled harder, but Vijayendra’s hold was unbreakable.

"Vijayendra, please…" her voice cracked, her desperation seeping through.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just held her there, letting her feel his dominance, his power over her.

And then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Meri binaagi thi tu," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down her spine. (You were meant to be mine.)

"Pandra saal pehle bhi maari thi, aaj bhi maari hai, aur kal bhi maari hi rahegi." (Fifteen years ago, you were mine, today you are mine, and tomorrow, you will still be mine.)

His fingers tightened against her waist, his voice darkening.

"Aur yaad rakh, Aaradhya…" he whispered, each word dripping with finality.

"Bhaag ke kabhi koi bach nahi paya maari se." (No one has ever escaped me by running.)

Her breathing turned erratic, a cold shiver running through her spine.

She was trapped.

Utterly and completely trapped.

Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms, carrying her back inside the haveli.

Aaradhya thrashed, pounded her fists against his chest, but he carried her effortlessly—his grip firm, possessive.

The moment they reached his room, he kicked the door shut behind them.

She flinched.

He entered.

Her throat ran dry.

Dressed in a simple kurta-pajama, Vijayendra looked every bit the royal prince he was. But there was nothing soft about him.

His gaze immediately found hers, sharp, unrelenting.

Aaradhya's fingers twisted the fabric of her dupatta, her breath shallow.

The room was bathed in golden light, draped in heavy silks and decorated with fresh roses.

The large bed stood in the center, its sheets white and untouched, the pillows fluffed as if awaiting the two people who were meant to share them.

Aaradhya stood near the window, her hands clutching the folds of her bridal lehenga, her pulse erratic.

She felt caged. Trapped.

Her heart screamed for escape, but there was none.

She knew, she had nowhere to run.

She was now Aaradhya Vijayendra Singh. His wife. His possession.

Silence.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, he moved.

Slow, calculated steps, each one making her heart pound harder.

He stopped just a breath away.

"Sharam aa rahi hai?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low. (Are you feeling shy?)

Aaradhya swallowed. "Main thaki hui hoon," she blurted out, taking a step back. "Mujhe aaj sona hai." (I’m tired. I want to sleep tonight.)

A smirk touched his lips.

He took another step forward, his towering frame swallowing hers.

"Thakaan? Ya darr?" he whispered. (Fatigue? Or fear?)

Her breath hitched.

She hated how well he could read her.

His hand lifted, tracing the length of her dupatta before gripping the edge of it firmly.

A slow, deliberate pull—

And the delicate fabric slid off her head.

Aaradhya gasped, her hands instinctively rising to stop him, but he caught her wrists with ease, trapping them against his chest.

"Vijayendra—"

"Chup," he ordered, his voice hard. (Quiet.)

She went still.

His fingers slid from her wrists to her jaw, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"Shaadi ho chuki hai, Aaradhya." His thumb traced the corner of her lips, mocking, possessive. (The wedding is already done, Aaradhya.)

"Ab toh yeh rishta nibhana hi padega." (Now, you have no choice but to fulfill this marriage.)

Aaradhya’s stomach twisted.

This was not a husband seeking his wife.

This was a ruler claiming his kingdom.

She shoved at his chest, desperate for space, for air—anything.

But he didn’t budge.

A dark chuckle left his lips. "Aaj bhi utni hi ziddi hai jitni bachpan mein thi." (Still just as stubborn as you were in childhood.)

She glared. "Aur tum aaj bhi utne hi zabardasti karne waale ho jitne tab the!" (And you’re still just as forceful as you were back then!)

His smirk widened.

He lowered his face, lips brushing against her temple. "Aur jab tak yeh zidd hai, tab tak maza bhi aayega." (And as long as this stubbornness remains, it’ll only make things more fun.)

Her entire body shook.

Fear. Rage. Desperation.

She didn’t know which one was stronger.

But she knew one thing.

This night would change everything.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

To be continued.....

Guys I have added a little in the last portion of the earlier chapter (just a little celebration part for the new Thakurain)

Lot's of love to you all

Love you all

Itsyourblackrose