Page 35 of Entangled Vows
Her eyes flared. “No. That’s not—”
“You’re making a scene,” he cut in. “Pretty sure the people don’t need a front-row seat to our first married fight.”
“We’re not married, and this isn’t a fight,” she hissed. “This is you being a control freak.”
“That’s just semantics. Keeping you safe isn’t controlling. It’s non-negotiable.”
“I am not something youkeep.”
“Yes, but you’re going to be my wife, and I don’t take that lightly. My job is to shield you from anything that makes your life difficult. That’s just how it is… so get used to it.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She glanced away for a second. And that… that counted as a win for him.
“Get in, Momo. Now. Or I’ll put you in myself.”
Max stood silently beside them, simply waiting.
“Max, this is Mahika. Mahika, meet Max.” His voice was even, but final. “I’ll put his number in your phone. Wherever you need to go, you call him. He’s at your disposal.”
Mahika’s jaw clenched, her lips forming a tight line. He knew what that look meant. She was trying to decide whether to rebel or just go along with it. And damn it, she was still thinking about the first option.
Max, being polite as always, nodded. “Morning, Miss Jaykar. Nice to meet you.”
Her answering smile was polite but cool. “You can call me Mahika. But don’t expect my call, Max. I already have a car and a driver.”
Vikram pursed his lips before quietly following her into the car and settling into the seat next to her. His arm stretchedacross the backrest, and their thighs accidentally touched. And in that brief moment, the tension between them intensified.
She slowly inched herself away from him. He remained silent, giving her the quiet she needed. But beneath his calm, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She had no idea what this moment truly meant. What she was stepping into, and what she was about to become. Mrs. Mahika Vikram Khurana.His wife.
As always, she was too busy fighting him, too stubborn to see that she had always been his. A deep possessiveness came over him, sinking its roots into his heart with a raw, insistent pressure. And beneath that primal edge was something else too. Something dark, something hungry, something that ached to claim her as his own.
Yeah, he told himself he couldn’t stand her, or maybe he was just being a jerk to get a rise out of her. Basically, he was too immature and proud to handle his feelings. And eventually, it became their groove. The push and pull, the fire and frost.
He’d wanted her all along, even before duty and the inevitable circumstances took over. Each look, every fight, and every tense silence had been pulling them here.
A part of him was glad Suraj had taken off. Immediately, a piercing and unwelcome wave of guilt washed over him at the thought. His brother’s disappearance should have left him worried and angry. And it did. But beneath all that righteous anger, he felt a selfish, ruthless satisfaction that, for once, life had favoured him.
Before the day was over, Mahika would be his, in name and by law. And soon enough, she would be his in every way that mattered.
14
Mahika sat stiffly in the backseat of Vikram’s SUV, her hands clenched tightly in her lap as the familiar streets of Dehradun blurred past the window. It was impossible not to think of Suraj while sitting next to the man who had always resented her bond with him. God, she missed her best friend.
Suraj had always been there for her, just as Ishika had. Ishika was the wild one, reckless and loud. Suraj, in contrast, was all calm strength and easy warmth. He grounded Mahika when she drifted too far, and Ishika yanked her back into chaos when she grew too rigid. With the two of them, she’d always felt balanced. Suraj soothed her fire, while Ishika matched it. And no one, not even Mahika herself, understood how deeply she needed both until everything fell apart.
As the car rolled past cafés and bungalows in the upscale part of the city, she lifted her hand to block the glare of the morning sun. Everything outside looked so calm, so deceptively normal, for a day that was anything but.
Dressed in a red saree with a gold border, she looked every bit the composed, formidable woman she wanted the world to see. The outfit seemed better suited for someone else’s wedding. But today wasn’t someone else’s day. It was hers. Her own wedding, which was going to be sealed with nothing more than a few signatures on paper.
She’d once dreamed of marrying someone she loved, of planning the shenanigans for months with all the usual chaos: relatives, decorations, dress fittings, food tastings, and music. But this… this wasn’t a wedding. It was a transaction. A government office, a few signatures, and an official conducting the proceedings as though negotiating a business merger rather than a marriage.
Vikram sat next to her, looking powerful and relaxed in his suit, with one arm draped casually over the back of the seat. He stared blankly at his phone, as if he’d already nailed the deal.
A wave of nausea washed over her as the reality of marrying him sank in. Fuck.
Vikram… a man she had spent years hating with every fibre of her being. And the worst part was that this so-called hatred wasn’t because he was arrogant, infuriating, or had an insufferably sharp tongue. The truth was far more embarrassing. While Vikram smugly assumed she had a crush on Suraj, it was never the case. She had always been hopelessly, foolishly drawn to Vikram. That unspoken attraction was raw, confusing, and had taken a darker turn during her eighteenth birthday. That night was supposed to be perfect, a milestone that made her feel closer to the woman she was becoming. She’d wanted to look grown up, just in case Vikram showed up.
