Chapter 3: The Price of Commitment

The wedding date was set, and with each passing day, the reality of her situation pressed down on Ishani like an iron weight. The grandeur of the Rathore estate, the never-ending guest lists, and the suffocating presence of Veer’s world were all consuming. She was used to a life of quiet struggles, not the opulence and sharp scrutiny that came with marrying a man like him.

Tonight was their official engagement party, an event that Ishani had no say in but was expected to play her part flawlessly. Dressed in a deep red saree adorned with delicate embroidery, she felt like a painted doll, carefully presented for an audience that wasn’t hers.

Veer, as always, looked completely at ease in a tailored black suit, his posture exuding confidence as he greeted guests with a practiced charm. Ishani stood beside him, a quiet storm brewing beneath her poised exterior.

“Smile,” Veer muttered under his breath, his fingers barely grazing hers as they posed for another round of photographs. “Or they’ll think you’re being held hostage.”

She forced a tight-lipped smile, whispering back, “I am.”

Veer let out a low chuckle, the sound deep and unbothered. “Then at least act like you’re enjoying your captivity.”

Before she could respond, a voice interrupted them. “Veer, my boy, always the charmer.”

Ishani turned to see an older man approach, his calculating gaze flickering between the two of them. He was a high-profile businessman—someone from Veer’s world.

“I must say, your fiancée is quite the vision,” the man continued, eyes appraising Ishani like she was another asset Veer had acquired.

“She is,” Veer replied smoothly, wrapping an arm around her waist with practiced ease. Ishani stiffened, her body going rigid at the unexpected contact.

The businessman chuckled. “You’ve done well for yourself, Veer. A beautiful wife and a growing empire. A man who wins in business and marriage—impressive.”

Ishani clenched her jaw, biting back the sharp retort bubbling on her tongue. Was that all she was to these people? A trophy? A well-negotiated deal?

As the man walked away, Veer loosened his grip, but Ishani stepped away first, her voice low but sharp. “Do you always let people talk about women like we’re possessions?”

Veer tilted his head slightly, regarding her with an unreadable expression. “Welcome to my world, Ishani.”

She exhaled sharply, anger simmering beneath her skin. “Your world is disgusting.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But you knew what you were walking into.”

She did. And yet, standing here, surrounded by strangers who saw her as nothing more than Veer Rathore’s latest acquisition, she felt a different kind of suffocation.

The night dragged on with more conversations, more forced smiles, and more moments where Ishani felt like she was losing pieces of herself. And through it all, Veer remained composed, as if this was second nature to him.

As the evening wound down, he finally leaned toward her, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You handled yourself well.”

She turned to him, her voice unwavering. “I wasn’t performing for you.”

Veer smirked. “You will, eventually.”

She hated how sure he sounded. Hated that part of her feared he might be right.

As she walked away, putting distance between them, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a contract marriage anymore. This was a game Veer had mastered—and she was just learning the rules.

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