⚠️Contains Mature Themes⚠️

Alia, you are such a dummy.

Ugh.

My vision is blurry. I… I can’t… I need—

My head spins as I stumble toward the open car door, the cool night air doing nothing to clear the fog in my brain. That bitch spiked my drink, turning my engagement day into this nightmare, all so she can film me losing it with some creepy budha aadmi

(old guy).

But screw that. Heat pulses through me, urgent and wild, making my skin tingle. I need… I need release. Now.

The man inside the car looks up, his face a smudge in the dim light. He has broad shoulders, dark hair—it doesn’t matter. I climb in, or maybe I fall, collapsing onto the seat beside him. My dress hikes up my thighs, but I don’t care. My hands fumble toward him, grabbing at his shirt.

“Hey, whoa, are you okay?” His voice is rough, concerned, but his eyes widen as he takes me in. He reaches out, steadying my arm, but I lean into him, pressing my body against his. The fog in my head thickens everything, turns it urgent, desperate.

“Please… just…” I mumble, my words slurring. I don’t know what I’m saying, but my hips shift, grinding instinctively. He hesitates for a second, then groans, his hands sliding to my waist.

“Shit, you’re burning up. You sure about this?” he asks, but his grip tightens, pulling me closer. I nod, or try to, my vision blurring as I kiss him sloppily, tasting salt and need. He loses it then, pushing me back against the seat, his mouth hot on my neck.

Clothes bunch and tear in the rush—my panties yanked aside, his pants shoved down. He thrusts into me hard, urgent, the car rocking with each movement. It’s fuzzy, overwhelming, my mind a whirlwind of heat and haze.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, his breath ragged against my ear.

I cling to him, lost in the blur, the world narrowing to this frantic rhythm until it shatters, leaving me gasping in the dim, spinning afterglow.

__

I removed a bundle of cash from my purse here.. “Thank you for your service.”

I got out of the car , my senses coming back to normal.

Later I went back to the hall. Only to see that bitch again. My so called little step sister Juhi, sitting on the lap of my fiancee.

Pure cinema

As soon as they saw me they got up.

“Where were you?” said my fiancee, Rudra Malhotra.

Oh my priy behena's face

(my dear sister’s face) was a must see.

“Surprise” I said looking at her.

“Alia beta chalo angothiya phenani hai” Rudras mother chirped in.

(Alia child come on it's time to exchange rings. )

The smile stays on my lips as I step forward.

“Before we exchange rings,” I say calmly, my voice carrying across the hall, “I think everyone deserves the truth.”

The room stills.

Rudra frowns. Juhi stiffens.

I reach into my phone, connect it to the screen behind the stage, and tap play.

The video explodes across the screen.

Rudra.

Juhi.

His hands on her waist. Her mouth on his. Whispered laughter. Familiar touches. Intimate. Undeniable.

Gasps ripple through the hall.

Rudra spins toward Juhi. “What the hell is this?” he roars.

Juhi’s eyes fill instantly. Perfect. Practiced.

“She’s framing me,” Juhi sobs, clutching her dupatta like a shield. “I swear, Rudra, she’s always hated me. She’s doing this because she’s jealous.”

Jealous.

I almost laughed.

Rudra loses it. His face reddens, jaw clenched, fists curling like he might actually break something—or someone.

And that’s when a deep, cold voice cuts through the chaos.

“Enough.”

Everyone turns.

He walks in unhurriedly, dressed sharp, eyes unreadable, presence commanding the room without trying.

The man from the car.

My breath catches.

No.

No no no.

“Chacha?” Rudra says sharply. “Why are you here?”

Chacha.

The ground tilts beneath my feet.

Yug Malhotra.

Rudra’s uncle.

My stomach drops.

Yug’s eyes flick to me for half a second—just long enough for recognition to flash. Something unreadable crosses his face before he masks it completely.

Great. Just perfect.

Voices rise again. Accusations. Denials. Drama thickens.

Then Juhi straightens.

Enough acting.

“I love him,” she declares suddenly, loud and clear. “Yes, I love Rudra. And there is nothing wrong with falling in love. Feelings aren’t a crime.”

Silence slams into the room.

Rudra doesn’t stop her.

That tells me everything.

I scoff.

Slow. Sharp.

“Then go,” I say, turning to Rudra. “Be with her. I don’t want leftovers.”

His head snaps toward me. “Don’t act innocent, Alia. You think I don’t know?” He laughs darkly. “You have someone else, don’t you?”

His mother steps forward quickly. “Beta, don’t do this,” she pleads, gripping my hand. “Men make mistakes. Women have to be understanding. This engagement—this alliance—think about the families.”

Families.

The same family that watched my father drown the company in debt.

The same stepmother who pampered Juhi while I learned to survive alone.

The same people who needed me to fix their mess.

I gently pull my hand away.

Rudra’s temper snaps.

“Call him,” he snarls. “Call that man you’re sleeping with. I’ll make him kneel. I’ll make him lick my shoes.”

The hall buzzes.

I look around.

I don’t know why my eyes land on him.

Yug.

He steps forward before I can say a word.

“I’m that man,” he says calmly.