HER POV

As I lay there, the fabric of his shirt clinging to my skin, I closed my eyes, hoping for a moment of peace. But the darkness that enveloped me was no comfort. Instead, it was suffocating, filled with memories I couldn't escape.

I drifted into a fitful sleep, my mind heavy with the weight of everything that had happened today. The events replayed in fragments, jumbled and distorted.

Suddenly, I was back at home, the one place I thought I could still call my own. But everything was different.

I was standing in the hallway, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a deep, paralyzing fear settling into my bones. I tried to move, to run, but my legs wouldn't cooperate.

A cold, iron grip wrapped around my arm....Bade Papa....his hand so tight it almost hurt.

His face was a blur, but his presence was overwhelming, suffocating.

"Inaya, yeh tumhara taqdeer hai," he growled, his voice cold and commanding.

I wanted to scream, to escape, but the words lodged in my throat.

"Mujhe nahi karni iss se shaadi!" I protested, my voice breaking.

"Tumhe karni padegi. Itni saal tumhe humne jo pala hai, unki kiemat shukane ka waqt agaya hai," he snapped, his words suffocating me. "Jao, ab tumhara farz nibhao humare liye," he hissed, pulling me violently out of the room.

"Maat karo! Please, mujhe nahi karni shaadi!" I screamed, my voice desperate, but it was as if no sound could escape.

In the blink of an eye, everything shifted. I was no longer in the hallway. The walls of a masjid surrounded me, and I was on the stage, the nikkah being read.

"No! Main yeh shaadi nahi kar sakti!" I cried out, rejecting the nikkah with every ounce of my will.

"Inaya... yeh tumne kya kiya?" Bade Papa's voice echoed, distorted, full of fury and betrayal.

"Mujhe nahi karni shaadi iss se," I whispered, but my body trembled, like I was suffocating in the weight of my own fear.

"Mujhe majboor mat karo, galat kadam uthane mein," he warned, his voice dark and cold, sending chills down my spine.

"Jo karna hai karo, main nahi kar rahi yeh shaadi!" I shouted, trying to run, but my legs felt paralyzed. I couldn't escape.

Then, out of nowhere, a sharp, excruciating pain shot through my stomach. I looked down, gasping, and saw the glint of a knife, buried deep within me.

"Bade Papa!"

I woke up from my nightmare, gasping for air, my body drenched in sweat.

"Uhhh, hufff," I breathed heavily, my chest rising and falling with the weight of the fear still gripping me.

The room around me was dark, but my heart raced as though I could still feel the suffocating grip of Bade Papa's hand, the cold steel of the knife.

My hands shook uncontrollably as I clutched the bedsheet, trying to calm the tremors.

But then, suddenly, I felt a strong hand pull me towards them. I gasped, my heart racing once again, but a soft voice whispered,

"Breath... breath..."

The words were gentle, soothing, like a lifeline in the storm of my panic. My eyes flickered up, and I saw Rehaan, his face filled with concern.

He handed me a glass of water, his touch steady and calm, grounding me. My trembling hands clutched the glass as I took a sip, trying to steady my breath.

"Sleep now," he commanded softly, his voice firm yet gentle.

His hand rested on my shoulder, the weight of his presence reassuring, as if his words held power to calm the storm inside me. I nodded weakly, exhaustion beginning to settle in, the terror of the nightmare still lingering but fading with each steady breath.

Rehaan didn't say anything more; he just stayed by my side, his silent support wrapping around me like a shield. 

I stayed awake for a long time, my eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, my mind replaying the horrifying events of the day. The nightmare had been terrifying, but reality was far worse. My heart still pounded, my body stiff with fear.

I was kidnapped today.

I didn't know where I was just a dark room, its silence pressing against me like a weight. My wrists ached from the rough rope binding them. My breath hitched when the door creaked open, and a shadow stepped inside.

It was Bade Papa.

"Inaya..." he spoke hesitantly, his voice unlike anything I had ever heard before. 

He paused, as if struggling with his words. 

"I'm sorry," he finally said, taking slow steps towards me.

Shock jolted through me. My breath faltered. 

Sorry? 

Why was he apologizing? 

What was going to happen?

"Kya hua... Bade Papa?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.My throat felt dry, my heart hammering against my ribs. He exhaled deeply, his gaze unreadable.

"Koun hain yeh log? Kya chahte hain humse?" I gulped, my mind racing with possibilities. My pulse quickened as I awaited his answer, dreading the truth that was about to unfold.

"Sab tumhari wajah se hua, Inaya," his voice was low, but the accusation in it struck like thunder.

Meri wajah se? I blinked, stunned, my breath catching in my throat.

"Agar tum paida na hoti... toh sab theek rehta. Tumhari maa aur tumhare abba kabhi alag na hote. Tumhare abba kabhi humein yun beech raste mein chhod kar na jaate."

His words felt like knives, stabbing deeper with each syllable. My chest tightened.

"Nahi... yeh sach nahi ho sakta," I whispered, my voice trembling. 

My parents' divorce... my father leaving... could it really be because of me?

Bade Papa scoffed. 

"Sach hamesha kadwa hota hai, Inaya." He stepped closer, his towering presence suffocating. "Tumhare abba ke liye tum ek bojh thi. Unhone tumhe yahan chhod diya, aur main apni marzi se nahi, majboori mein tumhe paal raha hoon."

Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Every word he spoke twisted like a dagger in my heart.

"Phir ab?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He exhaled sharply, his gaze turning steely. 

"Ab tum yeh ehsaan chukaogi."

A shiver ran down my spine. 

"Matlab?"

"Meine tumhari nikkah rehnaa ke sth manzoor kr dia h" His words echoed through the dimly lit room, sealing my fate like a prison sentence.

My breath hitched. 

"Nahi!" I stepped back, shaking my head frantically. 

Bade Papa's expression hardened. 

"Tumhare paas koi aur rasta nahi hai, Inaya. Tumhara abba toh tumhe chhod kar chala gaya. Par main tumhe ab aur nahi sambhal sakta. Rehaan tumhe apnaaye, yeh tumhare liye behtar hai."

"Yeh koi samjhauta nahi hai, yeh ek saza hai!" I cried, my voice breaking.

He grabbed my wrist tightly, his grip cold and merciless. 

"Zindagi tumhare liye kabhi asaan nahi thi, Inaya. Toh behtar hoga ki tum bina shikayat apni taqdeer ko maan lo."His expression darkened. "Tumhare paas koi aur raasta nahi hai, Inaya. Yeh faisla ho chuka hai."

"Bade Papa, yeh galat hai... aap aise majboor nahi kar sakte mujhe!" I pleaded, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear.

"Ladkiyon ki marzi nahi poochi jati, Inaya. Unhe bas apni zimmedari nibhaani hoti hai," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. My chest felt hollow, my soul trapped in an unbreakable cage.

"Mein... woh hi kyun?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart hammering against my ribs. Fear and confusion swirled inside me like a storm, threatening to consume me whole.

"Mujhe nahi pata... hum sab ko woh tabhi jaane dega jab tum haan karogi iss nikkah ke liye," he said, his voice laced with something unsettling was it helplessness or manipulation?

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing down the tears that burned at the edges of my eyes. "Manzoor hai..." my voice wavered, but I held my chin high, refusing to break in front of him.

A long silence followed before I took a shaky breath and added, my voice filled with quiet rage, "Lekin iske baad mere aur aapke beech koi rishta nahi hoga."

Bade Papa's expression hardened, but I didn't care.

I straightened my shoulders, my hands clenching into fists as I spat, "Abbu ko bhi bata dungi ke aur paise bhejne ki zaroorat nahi hai... ab main kisi aur ki amanat hoon." My voice was sharp, filled with a bitterness I had never known before.

I saw the flicker of something in his eyes guilt, anger, regret? But it didn't matter. The damage was done. My fate had been sealed. And I would never forgive him for it.

The door creaked open, and two men stepped inside. Their cold, calculating gazes sent a shiver down my spine. One of them gave a slight nod to Bade Papa. 

"Tayari ho chuki hai," he informed.

Bade Papa turned to me one last time. 

"Chalo," he ordered, his voice emotionless.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to move, my legs feeling like lead. Each step toward that dimly lit room felt like I was walking toward my own execution.

As I entered, my breath hitched. 

Rehaan was already there, standing stiffly in front of the maulvi. His face was unreadable, his sharp gaze locked onto me. Was he a part of this? Or just another pawn like me?

"Inaya Zaffar," the maulvi's voice rang through the room, clear and final.

"Qubool hai?"