"Thakur Sahab, leave my hand! Please... I don't want to marry you! Let me go... please!"

Ragini's voice trembled as she struggled against his unyielding grip, her delicate wrists caught in an iron hold. Dressed in an ornate maroon lehenga, her tears glistened under the temple's dim lighting, each one carrying the weight of her shattered dreams. She was being forced to complete the sacred pheras-the seven vows that should have bound two souls in love. But this was not love. This was a cage, locking her in a fate she never chose.

The night itself seemed to share her anguish. The full moon, once bright and serene, was now swallowed by ominous clouds, mirroring the darkness creeping into her life. The wind howled through the temple, yet the flames in the havan kund burned fiercely, as if defying the storm, as if bearing witness to the injustice unfolding before the goddess herself. The temple bells clanged wildly, not in celebration, but in warning-as if even the heavens could sense the cruelty in this union.

Ragini fought to free herself, but it was futile. The man standing beside her was far too powerful. His grip tightened, crushing the fragile bangles on her wrist, their shards digging into her skin. A painful gasp left her lips, but he didn't flinch. He didn't care.

Standing at an imposing 6'5", clad in an impeccably tailored black suit, he was the embodiment of dominance. Broad-shouldered, sharp-jawed, his presence alone was enough to make even the bravest tremble.
Randheer Singh Thakur-wealthy, ruthless, and dangerously alluring. The most coveted bachelor in the city.

But not anymore.

Because tonight, he was no longer just a bachelor. Tonight, he had bound himself to Ragini in a marriage neither holy nor pure-only fueled by his zid, his unrelenting obsession.

Each completed phera felt like a nail in the coffin of Ragini's freedom. Her feet moved, not by choice, but because she had no choice. The girl who once dreamed of love was now drowning in despair. The girl who once radiated warmth now stood lifeless, her soul breaking with every forced step.

She was numb.
And so was he.

The priest hesitated, stealing nervous glances at Randheer, fear evident in his eyes. He swallowed hard before forcing the words out.

"The pheras... are complete. Now, fill the bride's forehead with sindoor."

The temple fell into silence.

Ragini froze. Her body trembled as she looked up at Randheer, her vision blurred by unshed tears. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes unreadable, but the rage simmering beneath them was unmistakable.

Shaking her head frantically, she took a step back, her voice barely a whisper.

"No... Thakur Sahab, please... don't..."

But mercy was not in his nature.

Before she could move, he reached for the crimson powder and, with deliberate force, smeared it onto her forehead. The deep red of the sindoor-a sacred mark of marriage-stood stark against her pale, tear-streaked skin.

It was done.

The moment the sindoor touched her, something inside her shattered beyond repair. Her lips parted in a silent sob, her knees weakening, her heart screaming in agony. This wasn't a wedding-it was a war. And she had lost.

The priest, too afraid to linger, gathered his things and hurriedly announced,

"The wedding is complete. You are now husband and wife."

And then he ran.

But the damage was already done.

Ragini's knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold stone floor of the temple, gripping the fabric of her lehenga as wave after wave of despair crashed over her. Her tears spilled onto the ground, mixing with the sindoor that had sealed her fate.

And yet, amidst her devastation, Randheer smiled.

Not with joy.
Not with tenderness.
But with cruel satisfaction.

Crouching before her, he tilted her chin up with his finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. His voice, deep and taunting, sent a chill down her spine.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ragini Randheer Singh Thakur."

His smirk widened as he whispered,

"Welcome to your own personal hell. And trust me-I'll make sure every single day is worse than the last."

A fresh sob tore through Ragini's chest. Her swollen eyes searched his face, desperate for answers, desperate to understand why.

"Why, Thakur Sahab? What did I do to deserve this? What was my fault?"

His response was nothing but a smirk laced with dark amusement.

"You'll find out soon, Jaan."

And with that, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing through the temple. In a single swift motion, he tore the sacred gathbandhan cloth that had symbolically joined them and tossed it into the flames. The fire roared higher, swallowing the fabric whole-just as it had swallowed her freedom.

But why?

Why did Randheer force this marriage upon Ragini?
What fueled the hatred burning in his eyes?
What path would this unwanted union take-destruction or redemption?
Would Ragini's love ever soften his heart?
Or would he break her beyond repair?

To uncover the truth, dive into the story...

where he is her ishq and she is his zid

It's...

HER DEVOTION, HIS OBSESSION..

Only with,
GAURI "गौरी"