I scrutinize his features, attempting to find out who he is. Have I done something to cause him to seek me in this manner? I was full of doubt right now.

"W-who are you, exactly?" I said with a strained voice "A-and what do you want from me?"

As I waited for his response, he returned my look and placed both of his hands beside my head.

"Why are you doing this?" "What did I ever do to you?" I asked, trying hard to fight back my tears.

"I want you," he says, running his fingers across my cheek and down to my lips, "because you've been fucking with my mind for the past three years."

"And you're the only damn thing I think about all the time." He exclaims aggressively, "I can't focus on anything because of you."

"You're on my mind twenty-four seven unable to complete any task unless I have you!" He hisses, his gaze fixed on my face, inches apart.

"Now that you're with me, I'll finally make sure you're mine." What exactly is he on about? What, three years? I'm utterly confused.

He wipes my tears away and asks, "Did you like my surprise though?" immediately switching the conversation. Thus he lets out a faint chuckle, I shift my face away from him.

"Get off me!" I shrieked. I felt frustrated and began violently smacking him in the chest. He gripped my arms to keep me from striking my fist into his chest.

I wondered how far this man would go to get me to accept his ridiculous offer. Oh gosh, I just hope he doesn't do what I fear he might.

"You are a monster for trying to harm my family if I do not accept your offer." " Is that the most you can do, Mr. Venttali? hurting other people's families only to get whatever you want" I comment, infuriating him.

He displayed no reaction in response to my statements, which irritated me instead.

I was ready to shout more profanities at him until I overheard Azaan bhai shout in agony, "what the fuck do you all want? is it money? Answer my damn question," he shouted from the phone beside me, trying to figure out why he's in this predicament.

"I swear to God, once I get fuck out of here, I'll make sure you all suffer for this shit," he yells at the men as the punching and beating continues.

"Your response is all that is left, and it might save your darling brother's life." "So, yes or no?" he says again.

No, I can't marry him, that much is certain. But wait, Azaan bhai, what about him? He couldn't possibly hurt him, could he? That is definitely not doable. And what if he does? I can't afford to lose him. Please help, Allah, yeh main kaha paas gayi? (god, Where have I gotten stuck?)

I rushed for the phone but was unsuccessful. He snatches the phone and pulls away from me before he reaches for it. Sitting up, I yet again call out for my brother, praying for a miracle.

"Azaan bhai! ...bhai!" I started shouting for him to hear me, but he couldn't and more tears came streaming down my face, as I continued to hear his groans , yell swear words at the men. "Who the hell are all of you?" As I heard the assault intensify, he yelled, "And what do you want from me, assholes?"

"You're making it so much worse for yourself and your brother. You know I'm capable of a lot worse." He smirked as he switched the phone to a video call instead, showing me approximately ten men beating him and another man as they were tied up. As I watched one of the men repeatedly punch him in the face, I let out another loud cry.

"Please stop this," I cried hysterically and he smirked. "Perhaps we should hold a small family reunion and invite your remaining brothers too." He inquired, "What do you call bellissima (beautiful)?"

"Please, stop it," As I fall to my knees on the floor, gripping his feet and shaking my head indicating no, I sob even harder. "Should I tag them along as well?"

I pleaded with him to stop, shaking my head no. Oh, Allah, please do something, I begged him mentally.

"I want an answer immediately," he yells, his deep voice giving me shivers once more. Every minute I waste by not responding enrages him more.

"Zara I-" he began to say once more when I finally responded.

"No! I can't please" I begged, clutching his shoes, unsure of what he was about to do next.

"Well, you brought this on yourself; I have no choice," he says, evoking my attention as he calls out Alex's through the phone.

My brother's face flashed in front of my eyes when I closed my eyes, together with my family. Gulping my pride and self respect down I finally opened my mouth and let out the words which were enough to turn my world upside down again.

"Eliseo, shoot," he shouts as I leap on my feet, clutching his shirt, yelling, "Y-yes, I'll marry-" I begin to speak, but am halted by the sound of a gun shot through the phone.

No, he can't do that, my heart sinks to my core. "NOO! "No, no, no, nooo," I scream, slamming against him on the chest before falling on the floor, crying.

He's gone. He killed him. Mera bhai, maar dala isne (my brother, he killed him). I couldn't even come up with a coherent thought. The next feeling I felt was like being hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer. My back smacked into the edge of the bed as I collapsed to the ground.

I was beginning to realize what had actually occurred. My brother, whom I adored and considered to be my best friend, was... really gone. As I comprehended what had happened in a matter of seconds, I began to cry even harder, but I came to a halt when I heard a voice on the other end.

"He's already dead, motherfuckers!" I shot my eyes up when the phone stopped in my tracks hearing Azaan bhai yell out loud. Glancing at him, I realized he hadn't killed him. I feel relieved as hope arises in me.

"What did you just say?" he questioned, crouching down in front of me. I repeated what I had said before, staring into his forest green eyes, "I'll-marry you." I don't want to put my brother's life in danger any longer. "But please let my brother go," I implored again, "I can't see anything happening to him."

"Y-yes ...I'll... I'll m-marry you b-but please let him go. Stop please," I mutter, desperately attempting to get those words out of my mouth while complying to his desire.

"Now that's more like it. See it was that easy wasn't it? ...I don't know why you had to make everything so difficult for yourself" he says wiping away the tears from my cheeks "don't worry i won't let anything happen to him for as long as you follow my every order."

"You've made me the luckiest man alive now," he says, helping me get back on my feet. "I'm calling in the maids to assist with everything." "Get dressed and ready; the ceremony will begin in thirty minutes," he says whilst he leads me towards the bed. I try to comprehend everything while he sits me down.

"I-I don't want that; it isn't necessary...." I coldly add, "Just conduct the simple Nikah (Muslim marriage) and get it over with, it's not like it's a real marriage anyways," catching a fleeting sight of his enraged face before turning away.

He grabs my jaw and forces me to look at him as his hot breath hits my face, adding, "It's necessary because I want it." "I would like to see you as my bride," he adds, his teeth gritted and his jaw clenched.

"Do as I say unless you don't want me to order my men to deliver your brother's corpse to your parents' doorstep, he's still very much in my hold," he continues, his grip on my jaw tightening.

"O-ouch... y-you're hurting me, let go" I let out a short cry as I cut loose of his grip on me, since he appeared to be out of his mind and deep in thought over something. Upon noticing my grunts, he eventually lets go and pushes me onto the bed.

What the hell is his problem? Is he a psychopath or what? I returned his stare, clutching my jaw, while he stood in his spot, glaring at me for a few minutes before walking away.

He took a glass cup from the table next to me and poured me some water, which I silently accepted before he summoned the maid back in on the intercom.

He was about to leave after instructing the maid on everything until I stated "six months, six months is what I chose." I want a divorce once those six months are over, and you must vow to leave me" I exhale anxiously.

"We'll talk about it once we're married." Prepare yourself; I'll be back to grab you!"Before standing up to depart, he gave me a firm instruction.

But I couldn't let this pass without a settlement, so I added, "No, I'm looking for assurance that you'll keep your word. So, before I sign the marriage certificate, I'd prefer a contract stating that you're going to leave me." After all of his false information, I can't believe him.

"Fine," he says, "I'll notify my consigliere to prepare the contract." He walks away, leaving me with the two maids for assistance.

Almost immediately after he left, the girls scrambled to get everything in place for me just to make sure I am set. I'm guessing these poor girls are terrified to death and trying to avoid making any blunders.

They handed me a modest white dress, which, to my delight, turned out to be a lengha. As I stared at the lengha (dress), rage rose through me once more. He wants me to be his bride? Surely you're joking, right? Is he being serious? I wondered. I don't even think this will even fit me. The sizing is maybe a touch too small for me.

"Do you like it? ... I chose the outfit." I raised my eyes to notice another woman enter the room carrying a box. She appears to be desi, therefore explains why the lengha (Dress skirt).

"I know this would look amazing on you as soon as I saw your picture," she exclaims as I stare down, my gaze fixed on the garment and my mind on my own circumstances.

She smacked her forehead and rolled her eyes in the air, "Shit, I'm stupid I actually forgot to introduce myself."

"Hello, my name is Shayla Sharma, and I'll be getting you dressed for your wedding with Mr. Ventalli." I flashed her a quick soft sigh with a nod, but quickly returned to my own worries as she continued "After three days of waiting, I finally get to see you. Mr. Ventalli flew me in three days ago, as you are probably unaware. I've been waiting for you to accept his proposal so I could finally show you my magic on your lovely face," she rambles on, but I remain silent and uninterested.

Detecting my lack of enthusiasm "I was simply so eager to see who the lucky girl was that Mr. Venttali chose to offer the privilege as his wife," she apologizes which made me feel terrible, but what can I do? I'm in a state of deep turmoil.

"Okaay," she signs, clapping her hands together and urging me to get dressed since I don't have that much time. I get up to change in the restroom because I wouldn't want to cause any problems for them.

I change quickly into the heavy garment and walk out from the restroom, carefully eyeing the dress in the mirror. The dress appeared to be a little tight; just as I had figured. I had anticipated that the dress might be a touch tight. It fits perfectly while clasped to my body, however I generally dislike wearing tight clothing. It appears to reveal more of my physique and bust area.

"Don't you think the dress is a bit too tight?" I asked Shayla.

"No, not at all, it looks perfect," she adds with a smile as I sit down and wait for the woman to finish her work. To be honest, I don't want to do anything since I'm so fed up with everything.

But I have to do it; it's the only way I can get out and return home. I'm hundreds of miles away from my family. Without anything on me, not even my passport, finding my way back will be difficult.

I made the decision to marry for six months, and now all I have to do is make sure no one finds out, because if my family or any relatives figure it out, I will most likely be dead on the spot. So, in order for them to remain unaware, I hope he agrees to at least keep it a secret.

It's funny how I asked to be free of one forced relationship, and it was granted, but now I'm stuck in another. I suppose I'll never be able to enjoy my life to the fullest on my own. I simply hope these six months fly by so I can finally be free of this shithole. Please, Allah, let me rest for a while and pardon me for the sin I'm about to commit. I'm afraid I don't have any other choice, though I hope you understand.

"This dress just fits perfectly, enhancing your curves even more," the woman exclaimed, jolting me out of my reverie.

"Could you please do something simple?" I asked her, and she obliged, which I appreciated. I let her finish her task while I began to worry about my future and what would happen next. Even though there is still so much for me to do and explore, I am yet constrained.

When she was finished, she turned me around and showed me the magic she had created with her hands in the mirror.

My face appeared to be the polar opposite of what it had been. The makeup completely hid everything, including my dark circles and his hand imprints from his firm clutches on my face. Her work had blown me away.

As I sat in front of the mirror, I remembered the first time I dressed up like this for my wedding with Hai— hold on, I shake my head. As I began to cry, I couldn't bear thinking about the torment He had inflicted on me. I attempted to block out the images by attempting to close my eyes firmly.

"Ma'am, please stop crying, you'll ruin your makeup, and Mr. Ventalli will fire me instantly," the woman pleaded, grabbing a tissue for me to wipe away the tears from my eyes.

"S-Sorry," I stammered, struggling never again to shed tears over someone as unfaithful as him. My tears are unimportant enough to be wasted on him.

"Mr. Ventalli, she's ready," she murmured, and I turned to confront him in the doorway, his hands in his trousers. I diverted my gaze as soon as his concentrated gaze met mine, until I caught glimpses of him looking at me up and down with a sly sneer for a few moments.

He stepped up towards me, gesturing for her to exit, leaving only him with me in the room, while he kept staring down at me, full with hunger and lust, or something more I couldn't quite put my finger on but made me feel uneasy.

I felt like I may suffocate from his predatory stare, as if I was the only thing that mattered to him.

I tried to pull my dupatta (scarf) across my chest a few times because his gaze had been drawn to it, but I couldn't because it was pinned to my back.

"I may not have chosen the dress myself, but I think it suits you," he says, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer to him. "You are stunning, darling." "I can't wait for you to be mine," he murmurs in my ear, gliding his other hand up my arm to my neck and face, pressing closer to me, "Your body, mind, and spirit shall all be mine."

Once I hear him utter those words, a chill runs down my body, and I am afraid by the tone he was speaking. Pushing free from his grip, I step back, saying, "I have a few requests."

"Since I'm in a nice mood, let's hear what you have to say?" He ponders, as per usual, with a devilish grin I see. "Hurry up darling, you just have ten minutes till you're mine," he reminds her.

"First and foremost, I don't want anyone finding out about this marriage." "I want to keep it a secret," I said hesitantly, awaiting his response, but he agreed immediately and without hesitation.

"Is there anything else?" He waits for my response before asking. I proceed with a nod. "Because this marriage is a secret," I explained, "I'll be staying with my family."

I tried to come up with an explanation as soon as I saw the shift in his demeanor, and yet I couldn't help but be grateful that he remained silent.

"That will be difficult," he said harshly, "but you best agree to see me on a regular basis, whenever I need you." "I won't be able to live without seeing you," he says, which surprised me because he agreed without hesitation. Nevertheless, I was relieved.

He subsequently consented without hesitation to all of my demands. Strange, but at the very least, he's on board, I reasoned.

"Darling, is there anything else?" He asks, and I shake my head no, since I can't think of anything else right now.

"Okay, then, let's get started. I can't take it anymore, "He takes my hand in his and leads me to the Nikha's place (Muslim wedding).

"Zara Ahmed Khan, do you take Daniel Venttali, son of Luca Alonzo Venttali, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I jerked my head up at the terrified imam when he Asked me, plainly suggesting that he was probably forced to do all this.

The sparkle of optimism in his eyes as he waited for me to say "yes" so he could finish everything and be released.

This is it, my heart rate started to accelerate. I ended up in the same situation as before I thought. I have no choice but to sign away my life to this beast.

I wish someone could simply come and take me away from here; I don't want to do this. This is not something I want at all. I prayed internally, Oh Allah please meri madad kar (Oh God, please help me).

I remained mute, fidgeting with my hands, unable to say anything until I felt a hand around my thigh giving it a strong squeeze, bringing me out of my thoughts. Looking up at him, I could tell he was enraged.

"Zara Ahmed Khan, do you take Daniel Venttali, son of Luca Alonzo Venttali, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I began to perceive the tension in the room, I was asked again.

His uncle, who he had presented to me, and a few other guys who were present as witnesses all remained mute as they awaited my response. The grimace on his uncle's face was plainly not pleasant.

I tried to move his hand away from me, but he kept squeezing tighter, "I'm waiting darling," he whispered with clenched teeth, forcing me to face him again.

With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes tightly and said the words I never imagined I'd say again, "I do," with silent tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Zara Ahmed Khan, do you take Daniel Venttali, son of Luca Alonzo Venttali, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," I responded, attempting to remove his hand, imploring him to let go of me as he maintained a firm grasp on my thigh, which I'm sure would leave a mark.

"I do," I say, unable to cry out pain because of his strong grip on me, which he releases the moment I say those words, allowing me to gasp and struggle to breathe.

I tried my hardest to keep my emotions in check, but the pain was too much for me to handle. Though, after a few moments, he managed to remain composed, and I began to feel relief once the imam asked for his consent.

"Daniel Venttali, do you take Zara Ahmed Khan, daughter of Ahmed khan, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The horrified imam asked.

He stares me down, his green eyes scorching into my soul, an eyebrow arched and a sneer on his lips.

He says, "I do," without hesitation. Shit, he's dead serious about this.

"Daniel Venttali, do you take Zara Ahmed Khan, daughter of Ahmed khan, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The imam questions him once more.

"I do," he confirms once more.

"Daniel Venttali, do you take Zara Ahmed Khan, daughter of Ahmed khan, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" One last time, the imam asks.

"I do," he replies one more time, staring at me, while my heart bursts into despair.