Around 25 to 30 Thar SUVs had just stormed into Mumbai.
Each vehicle was packed to the brim with men—armed with long-barrel guns, hockey sticks, and deadly weapons. The air itself felt heavy… dangerous.
In the lead SUV, a man in his early thirties sat behind the wheel.
His eyes burned with rage—bloodshot, wild… like he was barely holding himself together.
Beside him sat a young girl, barely 22 or 23.
The way he was driving—reckless, aggressive—any normal person would have been terrified.
But not her.
She sat still. Calm. Expressionless.
Her eyes fixed straight on the road ahead.
Behind them, at least ten men stood in the back, gripping their weapons tightly.
The same scene repeated in every SUV following them.
The way those cars tore through the deserted Mumbai highway…
it was clear—something big was about to happen.
And the most shocking part?
Among all those armed men…
she was the only one dressed as a bride.
A few minutes later, the convoy stopped at a roadside dhaba-cum-snack center.
The man from the front seat glanced at her and snapped—
"Ke ho gaya, Babli? Have you gone mad? We're already running late, and your drama starts again? Listen carefully—if you try anything this time… if you try to run… you won't like what I'll do."
Babli stepped out of the SUV, stretching lazily, cracking her stiff body like nothing bothered her.
"Relax, Veerji," she said casually.
"We're not getting late. Around here… the night is when the real day begins. Don't worry… I'm not running anywhere. Honestly, I'm more tired of you people than anything else."
Then she called out—
"Hey Motu, come here."
A guy hurried toward her.
"Tell all the boys—whatever they need to do, do it now. Eat, drink, freshen up… because later, we won't get time."
She paused… then smirked—
"After all… it's my wedding tonight."
Within five minutes, everyone rushed to finish up.
The poor snack center owner was too terrified to even ask for money after seeing their weapons.
Once the convoy left, he let out a deep breath… folded his hands, and silently thanked God that nothing went wrong.
Meanwhile… at Pali Hill, Mumbai
In one of the most elite neighborhoods—Pali Hill…
A grand bungalow glittered under dazzling lights.
Luxury cars filled the massive three-level parking, including underground space—every inch packed.
Because tonight…
was the wedding of Baldev Singh Rathore's son.
Baldev Singh Rathore—owner of the Rathore Empire.
One of the most powerful businessmen in Mumbai.
But the real power?
Kartikeya Rathore.
His elder son.
Deals—both in India and abroad—were made or broken with just one word from him.
He wasn't just rich.
He was influential. Untouchable.
Tall—over six feet.
Sharp features.
Green eyes.
Perfectly groomed beard.
A presence that could silence a room.
A man people feared… respected… and admired.
Yet, for his family—he was the perfect son.
Tonight, he was getting married.
To Riya Raichand—daughter of his father's childhood friend, Virendra Singh Raichand.
An arranged marriage.
Because Kartikeya, despite his charm and looks…
had never had a girlfriend.
Work was his only priority.
And his parents' happiness… was his world.
The auspicious time was approaching.
Dressed in a black designer sherwani and a deep maroon turban, Kartikeya looked nothing less than royalty.
Pearl necklace. Traditional mojdis.
Gold bracelet on one hand. Luxury watch on the other.
Inside the grand hall, a circular wedding mandap stood at the center.
Guests filled the space.
Security was tight—no entry without invitation.
Even the media was kept outside.
Meanwhile… the bride's room
Riya sat in front of the mirror… fully dressed.
But beside her?
A tray full of tequila shots.
Almost empty.
Her friend Disha panicked—
"Riya, please stop! If uncle finds out, we're dead!"
Riya laughed lazily, her eyes half drunk—
"Relax, sweetheart… nobody's going to find out. And you know… I can't do this without it."
Just then—knock on the door.
"Riya! Get ready quickly. Kartikeya is already at the mandap."
Disha quickly grabbed the glass from her hand and helped her stand—
But Riya stumbled… and fell back.
Now Disha was really scared.
Soon, her friends gathered—Tanu, Sakshi, Reena, Anu.
They were shocked seeing her condition.
Somehow, they covered her with a veil and supported her from all sides… guiding her out.
Every step felt like a disaster waiting to happen.
Riya suddenly pushed them aside—
"Why is the music off? And what am I even wearing? This is so heavy!"
She tried lifting her veil.
Disha held her hand tightly—
"Listen carefully. It's your wedding. With Kartikeya Rathore. If anything goes wrong, your father's respect will be destroyed… and your would-be husband won't spare anyone."
Riya blinked… then put a finger on her lips—
"Shhh… it's my wedding today… keep quiet."
Disha looked at the others—helpless.
Now… this battle was theirs alone.
Just then, Riya's mother entered.
"Why so late, Disha? Guests are waiting."
She lifted the veil—
…and froze.
The smell of alcohol hit her instantly.
Riya just smiled foolishly.
Rajni (her mother) turned furious—
"What is this, Disha?!"
Disha stood silent… head down.
Rajni said coldly—
"Until the wedding is over… none of you will leave her alone. Understood?"
They all nodded.
To be continued…
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