The wedding hall shimmered with gold and crimson, every corner echoing with laughter, music, and the soft clinking of glasses. It was supposed to be the grand union of two powerful families—the Kapoors and the Rajvansh.
Lekin upar, bridal room mein—
“Woh… gayi.”
Ek hi sentence ne sab kuch tod diya.
Mrs. Kapoor ke haath se dupatta phisal gaya. “Kya matlab gayi? Amara kahaan hai?”
“Woh bhaag gayi…” kisi ne dheere se kaha.
Room mein sannati chha gaya.
Mr. Kapoor ka chehra safed pad gaya. “Nahi… yeh nahi ho sakta…”
“She left… her phone is here… her jewelry too… but she’s not anywhere in the house.”
Mr. Kapoor staggered back, gripping the edge of the table for support. “This… this can’t be happening. Not today.”
But it was happening.
Amara Kapoor, the bride, had run away.
Downstairs…
The grand hall was still alive with celebration—unaware of the storm brewing upstairs. That was, until Aarambh Rajvansh found out.
“What did you say?”
His voice was low. Too low. Dangerous.
Standing tall at 6’2, dressed in an ivory sherwani that accentuated his broad, well-built frame, Aarambh looked every bit the powerful businessman he was. His sharp jaw tightened, and his dark eyes burned with fury.
“She… she left,” Mr. Kapoor stammered, folding his hands in desperation. “We don’t know where she went.”
Ek second ke liye Aarambh chup raha.
Phir usne halki si hansi nikali—lekin woh hansi bilkul bhi khushi wali nahi thi.
“So basically… your daughter ran away on the wedding day?”
“Mr. Rajvansh, please listen—” Mrs. Kapoor tried, tears spilling.
But he cut her off.
“Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation?” His voice rose now, commanding the entire hall’s attention. Guests began whispering.
“A Rajvansh groom left standing at the altar?” he continued, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “This isn’t just your family’s disgrace… it’s mine too.”
Mr. Kapoor swallowed hard. “We will find her. I promise—”
“You better,” Aarambh snapped. “Because if you don’t…” his gaze turned icy, “I will destroy your business so completely that you won’t even remember what success looked like.”
The threat hung heavy in the air.
And everyone knew—Aarambh Singhania wasn’t a man who made empty threats.
Upstairs…
The Kapoor family was breaking apart.
“What do we do now?” Mrs. Kapoor cried. “We can’t let everything collapse!”
Mr. Kapoor paced the room, mind racing, heart pounding.
Then suddenly—his steps halted.
“There… might be one way.”
Mrs. Kapoor looked up, confused. “What?”
He hesitated. “Aarabya.”
Aarabya’s room
Aarabya sat cross-legged on her bed, happily eating a plate of gulab jamuns, completely unaware that her life was about to change forever.
At just 18, she was the complete opposite of her elder sister.
Soft, innocent, and full of life. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief, her small 5’2 frame wrapped in a simple pastel dress. She had just finished her 12th exams and was still living in her own carefree world—one filled with food, laughter, and little dreams.
“Aaru…” her mother’s trembling voice interrupted.
She looked up, cheeks puffed with sweets. “Hmm?”
The sight almost broke Mrs. Kapoor completely.
“How could they even think of dragging her into this?” she whispered, but desperation had already taken over.
“Aaru… beta… we need to talk.”
Aarabya blinked, sensing something was wrong. “What happened? Why are you crying?”
Mr. Kapoor stepped forward. “Your sister… she’s gone.”
The gulab jamun slipped from Aarabya’s hand.
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“She ran away.”
Silence.
Aarabya’s innocent world cracked just a little.
“B-but… the wedding…?”
“That’s why…” Mr. Kapoor struggled to say the words, “we need your help.”
She frowned, confused. “My help? What can I do?”
Her parents exchanged a glance.
Then her mother held her hands tightly.
“You have to marry Aarambh.”
Back in the hall
“No.”
Aarambh’s answer was immediate.
“I’m not interested in your ridiculous solutions,” he said coldly.
Mr. Kapoor pleaded, “Please… it will save both our families.”
“I don’t marry strangers out of convenience.”
“She’s not just anyone,” Mrs. Kapoor insisted through tears. “She’s our daughter.”
Aarambh scoffed. “An 18-year-old child?”
“She’s mature,” Mr. Kapoor said quickly. “And… and this marriage will still bind our families like planned.”
Aarambh turned away, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
This was absurd.
Everything about this situation was beneath him.
And yet…
His grandparents’ faces flashed in his mind—their fragile health, their only wish to see him married.
He exhaled sharply.
“Bring her.”
Moments later…
Aarabya stood at the entrance of the hall, dressed hastily in bridal red.
Her hands trembled.
Her eyes searched for something—maybe comfort, maybe an escape.
Instead, they met him.
Aarambh Rajvansh.
Tall. Dominating. Intimidating.
He looked like he didn’t belong in her world at all.
And he didn’t look happy.
Their eyes locked.
Aarabya’s heart raced wildly.
Lekin jab Aarabya uske saamne laayi gayi—
Choti si… darr se bhari… aankhon mein aansu…
Arambh ne use dekha.
Yeh ladki… bilkul alag thi.
Na arrogance… na attitude…
Sirf innocence.
But also—
There was something undeniably pure about her.
Something untouched by the greed and manipulation he was used to.
He looked away first.
Kuch seconds ke baad—
“Fine,” he said, voice firm.
“I agree.”
And just like that…
The wedding that was meant for Amara Kapoor…
Became Aarabya Kapoor’s destiny.
And neither of them knew—
This forced bond was only the beginning of a storm that would change both their lives forever.
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