Mine Yes! : Forced to be yours Mr.Devil

The wedding ceremony of Rudra Singhaniya and Anaya Malhotra was a grand affair, as extravagant as one would expect from the Singhaniya family. The estate was a picture of opulence, bedecked with cascading floral arrangements and shimmering lights that bathed the venue in a golden glow. Every inch of the space radiated wealth and power, a testament to the Singhaniya legacy. Yet, beneath the layers of grandeur and meticulous planning, there was an undercurrent of tension—a storm brewing quietly beneath the surface.

The guests were seated in the grand hall, their voices a gentle murmur against the backdrop of ritualistic chants. The air was thick with the mingling scents of incense and freshly bloomed jasmine. Despite the seemingly seamless flow of the event, Ria Singhaniya, Rudra's younger sister, was visibly restless.

Ria was not one to be easily unnerved, but tonight was different. Her best friend, Anaya Malhotra, was nowhere to be found. Dressed in a pale green saree that complemented her sharp features, Ria flitted from one corner of the venue to another, her anxiety growing with every unanswered question.

She approached the catering staff with urgency. "Have you seen Anaya? She was supposed to be here hours ago."

The staff members exchanged puzzled looks before shaking their heads.

Frustrated, Ria turned to a family member, her voice laced with concern. "Have you seen her? She promised she'd be here early to help me with the final arrangements."

"No, beta," the older woman replied gently. "I haven't seen her. She must be running late."

But Ria knew better. Anaya wasn't the type to disappear without a word. Something was wrong, and the knot in her stomach tightened.

Unbeknownst to Ria, in a secluded chamber within the Singhaniya estate, Anaya Malhotra sat beside Rudra Singhaniya, the man she had unexpectedly agreed to marry. The atmosphere was somber, the quiet hum of the priest's chants serving as the only sound in the room.

Anaya's hands rested in her lap, trembling slightly. Her simple saree—borrowed from Ria—felt out of place in this grand setting, yet it was all she had. She had no elaborate bridal finery, no glittering jewels to mark the occasion. Her hair was tied in a loose bun, and the only ornament she wore was a pair of modest earrings.

Her heart ached with the weight of the situation. This was not the wedding she had dreamed of as a little girl. The man beside her—Rudra—was an enigma. His stoic demeanor betrayed no emotion, his focus entirely on the rituals.

Rudra's cold gaze flickered toward her briefly as he repeated the priest's mantras. His posture was stiff, his jaw set. For him, this marriage was a duty, a transaction necessary to maintain family honor. But for Anaya, it was a leap into an uncertain future, one she hadn't prepared for.

As the priest concluded the final mantras, Rudra rose, his towering figure commanding attention. He adjusted the shawl draped over his shoulder before stepping forward to address the gathering.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Rudra began, his voice resonating through the hall. The room fell silent, the weight of his tone arresting every conversation.

"Thank you for being here today to witness this union," he continued, his words deliberate. "I am aware there has been some confusion about my bride's identity."

Ria, who had been scanning the crowd for Anaya, froze in place. Her heart began to pound as her eyes locked onto her brother's solemn face.

Rudra's gaze swept over the guests, his expression as unyielding as stone. "The woman who stands beside me is not Nisha Kapoor, as many of you assumed. My bride is Anaya Malhotra."

The hall erupted into gasps and murmurs. Guests exchanged bewildered glances, their whispers crackling like electricity in the air.

At the back of the hall, Ria felt the floor tilt beneath her. Her best friend—her confidante—was now her brother's wife, and she hadn't known a thing. A mix of betrayal and shock coursed through her veins. She pushed through the crowd, determined to find Anaya.

Ria Confronts Anaya

Anaya stood near the edge of the room, her posture fragile yet composed. Her downcast eyes revealed the emotional storm brewing within her. She didn't look up until she heard Ria's voice, sharp and trembling with hurt.

"Anaya! What is going on?" Ria demanded, her voice breaking slightly. "Why didn't you tell me? How could you keep this from me?"

Anaya turned to face her friend, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Ria… I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know how to tell you. Everything happened so quickly."

"But why?" Ria pressed, her voice softer now but no less insistent. "Why did this happen? You're my best friend, Anaya. You should have trusted me."

Anaya's voice cracked as she replied, "Rudra made the decision. He didn't consult anyone—not even me. I… I was thrust into this, Ria. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ria's anger dissolved into empathy as she saw the pain in Anaya's eyes. She took her friend's hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "We'll figure this out, Anaya. Together. You're not alone in this."

___________________________________________________________________________________________

As the guests began to leave, the grandeur of the Singhaniya estate felt hollow. The weight of Rudra's decision hung in the air, casting a shadow over the evening's events.

In a quiet corner of the estate's garden, Anaya and Ria sat side by side. The fragrance of blooming roses filled the air, a faint balm for their troubled minds.

"What will you do now?" Ria asked softly.

"I don't know," Anaya admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I'll take it one step at a time. I don't have any other choice."

Ria nodded, her resolve hardening. "Then I'll be with you every step of the way."

Elsewhere, Rudra sat alone in his study, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. A glass of whiskey rested untouched on the table beside him. His decision had created ripples he hadn't anticipated, but he felt no regret.

For Rudra, the marriage was a necessity, a move to secure his family's future. But as he stared into the darkness, an unfamiliar weight settled over him—a gnawing sense that the woman he had married deserved more than the cold practicality he had offered.

To Be Continued…