The High-Stakes Bargain

Destiny

He had not come with any elaborate preparations for the wedding. As usual, he wore a white kurta-pyjama paired with a sleeveless jacket.

However, today he had tied a turban. The dark pink turban suited his fair complexion remarkably well. His mustache, which he always kept upturned, remained raised with that same impressive authority. A neatly trimmed beard and his commanding persona set him distinctly apart in the crowd.

He had walked inside with purpose.

He was not getting married out of emotion; he had come to fulfill an arrangement, ensuring that the high-stakes bargain struck with Narendra Trivedi would not remain incomplete. This marriage served as an assurance—a guarantee that Narendra Trivedi would not backtrack on his word. There were no romantic feelings in his heart regarding the marriage, no excitement, and no thrill.

To him, this wedding was far from a traditional ceremony. It was merely a solemn vow he had arrived to honor.

Vishakha Trivedi had thoroughly warned Simran. Her elder brother, who was pursuing an MBBS degree, was older than her. He was currently in his third year of medical school, while Simran was in the final year of her graduation.

Vishakha had explicitly told Simran that her brother's studies were nearing completion, so she must not commit any mistake she shouldn't. In truth, Vishakha Trivedi had ruthlessly threatened Simran by leveraging her brother's future.

Meanwhile, Gursher Brar had taken his seat at the mandap. A short while later, Simran, draped in a bridal lehenga and heavy jewelry, arrived and sat beside him.

Simran’s dupatta was drawn low over her forehead. Not once did she lift her eyes to look toward Gursher Brar.

Gursher, however, cast a single glance at her.

She was the very same girl he had spotted in the lawn the previous day.

As the priest chanted sacred mantras and issued instructions, the wedding rituals progressed step by step.

Present around the mandap were Virendra Trivedi, Vishakha Trivedi, Sitaram, Gursher Brar, and a few close associates who had accompanied him.

Seated at the mandap, Simran kept her gaze lowered. A storm of thoughts raged in her mind, and she was thoroughly terrified. The man she was marrying was many years older than her—33-year-old Gursher, while Simran was merely 19.

The young girl was deeply anxious. She had surrendered her fate entirely to God, having no alternative left. She had no idea how the man she was marrying would treat her or how many days she would be able to stay there.

A lingering fear weighed on her mind: what would happen on the day it was revealed that she was not Narendra Trivedi’s biological daughter, and how would she be treated then?

Following the priest's directions, Sher filled Simran’s parting with vermilion. The red mark of marriage settled upon her forehead from his fingers, after which he fastened the mangalsutra around her neck.

In that moment, there was no burst of emotion from either Sher or Simran. There was only a quiet silence—and amid that silence, the deepest sensation was fear.

Two strangers... whose worlds were entirely different, who could never have imagined walking the same path together. Yet destiny had bound them today in an alliance they had not chosen.

Panic was plainly visible in Simran’s eyes, whereas Sher’s face bore a strange composure—as if he regarded this relationship merely as a necessary ritual and nothing more.

Amid the noise and rituals of the mandap, a new story had quietly begun—a story whose upcoming chapters were unknown to both of them.

The wedding ceremony was complete. Trivedi seated them both on a nearby sofa. Simran sat silently with her head bowed, as if still unable to process what had transpired in her life.

On the other side, Sher was checking his phone, which had rung multiple times during the wedding rounds. His closest confidant, Jagtar, who always accompanied him, brought the phone over and handed it to him. There were several missed calls, but Sher had not looked at them yet.

After some time, Trivedi suggested,

"Come, let's sit inside the drawing room."

However, Sher flatly declined,

"No, we must leave... it's getting late."

"At least have food before leaving," Virendra Trivedi pressed again. "Food is prepared. Now that you are our son-in-law, you cannot leave just like this."

"No, we have to leave for our village immediately. Reaching Shekhpura will take time, and everyone is waiting for us there," Sher replied firmly.

Vishakha intervened right then,

"He is right... after all, their family must be waiting to welcome our daughter. Let it be done however our son-in-law prefers."

Though her voice was coated with sweetness, there was an underlying rush beneath it—as though she desperately wanted this affair wrapped up quickly.

Shortly after, the moment for Simran's farewell arrived. She was crying continuously, tears streaming down her face without pause.

Sher assumed these were tears of a typical bridal farewell... but in truth, Simran was weeping for her own fate, a destiny she had never chosen for herself.

In that very moment, two people from vastly different worlds were bound into a relationship they had yet to comprehend.

Soon, Sher's car departed from the location. A short distance outside the house, another security car was parked with his men waiting inside. From inside the mansion, only Jagtar accompanied him, while Sitaram stayed behind and did not join the journey.

Gursher sat upfront next to the driver. The driver was Jagtar himself—his most trusted aide and confidant. There was no secret of Sher's that Jagtar did not know; he was privy to his every move and thought. In age, he was nearly equal to Gursher.

Simran sat in the back seat, laden with bridal jewelry. She had been adorned in such a way as to project the image of Narendra Trivedi's own daughter. Yet for Simran, none of this brought any joy.

She knew nothing about Punjab, nor about life in its rural villages. How she would fit into a political and rural family setting—this thought only amplified her dread.

Huddled on the back seat, she sat silent and terrified. Every passing moment deepened the fear settling inside her