"Where is she?" Ved asked curtly.
His assistant replied, "In the room, sir."
Ved Oberoi strode into the room in one sharp motion.
Kashvi—his contract wife—sat on the bed, dressed in a bridal lehenga, tears streaming endlessly down her face. The moment she saw Ved enter, fear seized her. A bottle of alcohol hung loosely in his hand as he walked toward her, slow and deliberate.
He gently lifted her veil, almost tenderly.
Kashvi trembled. In a frightened whisper, she said,
"P-please… don't come near me."
Ved tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. The second he saw her face, he burst into laughter.
"So much fear…" he said, still laughing.
"Wow. I want to see this fear in your eyes forever."
His laughter suddenly stopped.
In a surge of rage, he crushed the bottle in his hand. Glass shattered, and blood began to drip down his fingers. Unfazed by the pain, he looked at her coldly.
"Kashvi Mehra," he said slowly,
"from today onwards, you are Kashvi Oberoi. You belong to me—but I will never belong to you. You may be mine, but my heart will never be yours."
He stepped closer, his eyes dark.
"My heart has always belonged to only one woman… Anvi. And you will never, ever take her place."
With tears filling her eyes, Kashvi asked in a trembling voice,
"Then… if you loved Anvi, why did you marry me?"
Ved smiled—a cruel, hollow smile.
"So that I could turn your life into hell while you're still alive."
"But why do you hate me so much?" Kashvi cried.
"I don't even know you."
Ved's expression hardened.
"But I know you," he said coldly,
"and girls like you… very well."
With blood-soaked hands and a heart devoid of mercy, Ved turned and walked out, leaving Kashvi shattered behind him.
To be continued.