Payal stood before the tall mirror, studying the unfamiliar reflection looking back at her. The red gown hugged every curve, shimmering in candlelight—she'd never envisioned herself looking so vibrant, so utterly transformed. Two days ago, this mansion felt like a foreign world, its grandeur intimidating and impossibly distant. Now, as she traced the outline of her lips and smoothed the fabric along her waist, it seemed as if she'd lived here for ages, her old life fading to the faintest echo.
She spoke softly to herself, testing the words aloud: "This is my destiny." The realization sent waves of gratitude through her. Here, she could study as much as she wished. There was no one dictating her words, her behavior, or her choices; autonomy was hers—something she'd never known before.
Beneath the surface thrill of new freedom, Payal's mind flickered through memories of William's solemn distance and Asra's mercurial warmth. She knew they would soon be linked together in marriage—a union more complex than anything she had imagined. Yet it was Julian's gentle eyes, steady hands, and unwavering kindness that gave her a sense of comfort she'd always craved. He made her feel cherished and safe, grounding her in moments when uncertainty threatened to overwhelm.
Payal's heart, though open to her soon-to-be husbands, whispered truth: her deepest longing was for Julian. If someone had asked her just two days before, she would have denied any wish for marriage. But today enveloped in satin and possibility, she was ready. Life had given her risk and rescue—a journey from despair to beauty.
She took one last glance in the mirror, smiling with quiet hope. Today, she'd step forward—not just into a wedding, but into a life fuller and freer than any she had ever dared to dream.
Payal was lost in a trance, her gaze lingering on her reflection longer than she'd realized. The red gown draped perfectly over her frame, capturing both her excitement and her disbelief at how much had changed in mere days. She hardly recognized herself—her cheeks glowed with anticipation, eyes alight with hope and nervousness. Just then, a sharp knock at the door snapped her from her reverie.
She opened the door to find William standing there, looking even more handsome than the night before. Today, his hair was left open, falling past his shoulders—a rare and striking sight. His suit, a perfect match for her bright red gown, accentuated his shoulders and set off the warm glow of his skin. The way the bold color suited him took her breath away.
"Are you ready?" William asked, his tone calm but unreadable. Payal's eyes drifted up and down, taking in every detail. The moment felt charged with something tender and new.
After a beat, she asked shyly, "Can you make my hair into a bun?" The question surprised them both. For William, it felt almost surreal—she trusted him with this moment of vulnerability, revealing a side of herself she kept hidden from the world. Without a word, he nodded.
William moved with focused, gentle hands, gathering up her dark hair. The touch of his fingers against her neck sent goosebumps racing down her spine. He sculpted her hair with care, creating a classic, elegant bun. As the cool evening breeze filtered through the open window, William's usually stoic expression softened; there was something almost boyish about the concentration on his face.
"Done," he said finally, stepping back to admire his work, an affectionate smile tugging at his lips.
Payal gave him an appreciative glance. "Okay, let's go." Together, they stepped toward the promise of the evening, their hearts beating in quiet anticipation.
Payal followed William out into the road, the hem of her red gown whispering secrets over marble floors. The silence between them in the car was heavy—so loud it seemed to echo over the gentle hum of the engine, every heartbeat amplified in a space neither dared disturb. William's hands were steady on the wheel, eyes focused ahead, but she could sense the storm beneath his composure; he wanted to say something and fought the urge, his pride holding the silence in place.
As the hour-long ride drew on, dusk surrendered to deeper darkness. Finally, the car slowed and turned up a shadowed drive, crunching gravel beneath their tires. Payal stepped out and gasped softly. The mansion before them loomed out of the gloom—tall and stern, its stone arches and ornate facade crowned by spikes and twisting vines. Carved gargoyles perched on the eaves, and the flickering lanterns lining the walkway cast strange, wandering shadows. Two other cars waited in silence, their dark windows shining under the moonlight.
A chill ran up her spine. The place looked nothing like the wedding scenes she'd dreamed of as a child—it resembled a haunted manor from an old movie, hauntingly beautiful yet undeniably ominous. The windows glimmered with faint, colored light, and the air smelled faintly of old stone and rain-soaked earth.
She grabbed William's arm, her voice just above a whisper: "Are we really going here—for our wedding?" The question hung between them as William, ever so slightly, squeezed her hand for reassurance. "It's just the venue. Inside, everything will be different," he promised, though a fleeting uncertainty crossed his face.
With every step up the creaking front steps, Payal's nerves mounted, but inside she burned with curiosity. Tonight's ceremony would be nothing like she expected—something strange, , and unforgettable was about to begin