Page 8 of Entangled Vows
Required to marry. For one year. Lock-in extended…
Her pulse roared in her ears. The room started to tilt and sway. She gripped the chair tightly to keep herself steady. She wanted to say something. To scream. To ask what kind of sick joke this was. But no words came out.
Her gaze darted around the room, waiting for someone to laugh. To call it a mistake. A misreading. An outdated provision that no longer mattered. Anything. But no one spoke up. Not even Mohit. He looked stunned, disbelief written across every inch of his face.
And then her eyes landed on Vikram.
He sat in silence, his gaze fixed on her. For once, there was no smugness in his eyes, no trace of pity. She just saw that same scary calm, as if he had already known. That he had already accepted it. And that crushed the last shred of her hope.
She shot to her feet, the chair screeching harshly against the floor. “This is bullshit.”
Her mother’s eyes brimmed with silent tears. Mohit tried to reach for her, but she pushed him away. She couldn’t sit there a second longer. She needed to get out of that room. Now.
“No,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “No way. This isn’t happening.”
Her mind screamed the words she couldn’t hold back.I refuse to accept this. No fucking way.
Suddenly, she turned towards Vikram. “You... you jerk. Tell him I can’t be your wife. Tell him this is… this is absolute horseshit!”
Vikram just sighed wearily, like he was so over her tantrums.
Mr. Rao cleared his throat and chose his words carefully. “It is legally binding, Mahika. Unless both of you choose to contest and forfeit your inheritance, the clause stands.”
Forfeit?The word hit her hard.
She turned back to Vikram, hoping against hope, silently begging him to say something, anything, to take it all back. But he stayed quiet.
And that silence… it spoke volumes.
Her throat tightened, and her vision blurred. Everything she thought she knew about her life, her father, her freedom to choose… well, it was literally crumbling to ashes around her. And within that spiralling inferno of disbelief, a harsh realisation surfaced. Love wasn’t the reason her father had left her the cherished beach house. He’d weaponised it.
He was still manipulating things from beyond the grave, shaping her choices, her future, her freedom. Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She steeled herself. Being weak and falling apart wasn’t an option. What she needed now were answers.
“There is no way on this earth I’m doing that,” Mahika snapped, her voice sharp with defiance. She strode to her father’s desk to reach for the will in Mr. Rao’s hand, then froze.
Something was holding her back. She whirled around to see her dupatta snagged on a chair. Her heart skipped a beat, and her temper flared when she realised it washischair.Of course.
The damn nerve of her dupatta. Heat rushed to her neck as she yanked at it, but the more she pulled, the tighter it tangled. Her breath quickened as her fingers fumbled in anger and frustration.
At first, Vikram didn’t move. He just stared at her, looking completely unfazed and annoyingly handsome. Just as she was about to snap at him, he moved. His hand closed over hers in a warm, steady and unhurried grip.
She froze as soon as he touched her, sending a tingle down her spine. In a split second, she went from furious to being eerily quiet. Her body seemed to know something she didn’t want to admit. And hell, she wasn’t supposed to feel this strange sense of security when he touched her. She wasn’t supposed to feelanything… at all.
But she did. And that made her even madder.
With practiced ease, Vikram untangled the fabric, his eyes never leaving hers. “Here,” he whispered.
Mahika snatched her hand away, her heart pounding. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. She glared at Vikram and turned around, shooting daggers at Mr. Rao.
“I don’t believe you, Mr. Rao,” she said, her voice icy. “Show me the proof.”
From behind her, Mohit gently called, “Mahika—”
“No,” she cut him off, raising a hand. “This is bullshit. There’s no way Dad wanted me to—”
Before she could finish, Mr. Rao turned the page and pointed to the clause.
Mahika read the words again and again, as if rereading them might somehow change their meaning. But it didn’t, and her heart twisted.
