"Upon careful consideration of the evidence and facts presented, this Court concludes that the prosecution has failed to prove the guilt of the accused beyond a reasonable doubt. Therefore, the accused is hereby acquitted of the offense punishable under Section 302 IPC. He shall be released immediately unless he is required in connection with any other case." The judge pronounced his final verdict, and I exhaled deeply, a weight lifted from the courtroom.

This case has been one of the most challenging of my nascent career, which, though brief at just two years, is nonetheless a significant milestone I take pride in. After a thorough discussion with my client, I stepped out of the courtroom, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. Finally, after countless sleepless nights, I could look forward to a restful sleep.

As I made my way to my car, my phone buzzed with a call. I answered it while settling into the driver’s seat. “How did it go?” Unnati’s familiar voice chimed from the other end. A smile crept onto my face as I replied, “I won the case.” In my two years of practice, I’ve only lost one case, which gives me hope that I must be doing something right… right?

“I KNEW IT!!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “We need to celebrate!” Celebrations have become our tradition whenever I win a case or she passes another semester of her MBBS. Our bond began in the twelfth grade, and since then, we’ve been inseparable. “Alright, alright, we will,” I chuckled, but then the gravity of my situation struck me. “But first, I need to tell you something.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as the reality of my impending marriage began to sink in.

Being a lawyer is my escape from the reality. My father permitted me to pursue this career because, in his eyes, a woman could never rule over a mafia empire. Truthfully, I have no desire to do so either. The violent childhood I endured, witnessing bloodshed at a tender age, is a life I wouldn't wish upon anyone. “Is it about Anirudh?” she asked, hitting the nail on the head. “Yes, I’m getting married this week,” I admitted, my vision blurring at the thought.

Anirudh Singhania is notorious for his brutality within the mafia world, regarded as one of the most feared mafia leaders in the country or at least the underworld. I am expected to marry him due to my father’s desperate need for a powerful alliance as he ages and relinquishes control of his business and apparently, I can’t manage it all simply because I am a woman, despite my qualifications suggesting otherwise.

“Shit, I forgot about that,” Unnati's voice broke through my spiralling thoughts. “Yeah, me too, but the case is over now,” I reminded her. That had been the agreement between my father and me: I could enjoy my freedom until the case concluded. Unnati suggested I run away, but the reality is that being the daughter of one of the most feared mafia lords of his times comes with its own set of challenges.

Running away isn’t feasible when he has connections spread across the globe, he would undoubtedly find me and drag me back into this life repeatedly until I succumbed to his will. And what would I do in another country if I can't practice law there? Sell flowers? No, thank you! I need to talk to Anirudh and plead for him to reconsider.

“Are you even listening?” I realized I had zoned out again. “Yes, yes,” I replied, shaking my head to fight off the encroaching fatigue. “So, when will you talk to him?” she pressed. I sighed; I desperately needed sleep. “Right now,” I declared, abruptly ending the call to annoy her, as I often did. I parked my car in a rest area and dialled his number.

On the third ring, he picked up. “What?” His brusque greeting almost made me curse. We need to maintain some decorum, don’t we? I reminded myself, “I need you to back down from this marriage,” I said as evenly as I could manage. There was a pause on his end. “Why? I’m fine with this alliance,” alliance. He sees this just as an alliance, nothing more. Which is another reason for me to not marry him.

“But I’m not,” I retorted through gritted teeth, frustration bubbling up. “Then you do it, tell you daddy dearest that you don’t want this wedding” he suggested, his tone dismissive. Frustration coursed through me—was he feigning ignorance or was he genuinely oblivious? “There’s no point; he will never listen to me. In our world, men only listen to men. Women are seen as mere objects to be shuffled around, and you’re well aware of this because you’re cut from the same cloth!” My voice rose as I let my frustration spill over.

“Wow, already arguing like a married couple, huh?” I could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “This wedding will happen whether you like it or not. So, be a good girl and let it unfold.” They all think the same way. Why did I ever think he would be different?

“I love someone else,” the lie slipped out before I could catch it. “Ahh, so that’s why you want to halt this wedding? You should have told me sooner, don’t worry” he chuckled, and for a moment, a glimmer of hope ignited within me. “I don’t care,” he finished, snuffing out my hope as swiftly as it had appeared. I clenched my jaw. “Marja, you asshole!” I hung up before he could respond, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes.

So, this is it?

If this is my reality, I might as well savour my last days of freedom. I dialled Unnati’s number again. “Let’s go clubbing,” I interrupted her before she could say anything. “Okay,” she replied, sensing the shift in my mood.

______

I arrived home and began my ascent upstairs towards my room when a voice halted me in my tracks. "How was the case?" my father inquired, and I paused midway, my jaw tightening in response. "I won," I replied curtly.

He already knew the outcome of my case but felt the need to ask, seeking reassurance that I wasn't deceiving him. Control was his game, and he played it well.

Turning to face him, I stated firmly, "I still don't want to marry Anirudh." Deep down, I understood my resistance was futile, yet my instincts screamed that Anirudh was not the man I wished to call my husband.

"It doesn't matter what you want. This union is advantageous for us, and it will happen and don't you dare try to sabotage it, Zoya," he warned, his gaze piercing and unsettling, a look that always made me feel like a stranger in my own home.

Rajiv Malhotra had always been this way. When persuasion failed him, intimidation took its place. It didn't matter whether he was dealing with adversaries or his own family.

"I'm heading to the club," I declared defiantly before turning away, ignoring his protests. I wasn't a regular at clubs, but when life spirals beyond my control, the only choice I have is to sit back and watch the chaos unfold. I'd much rather drown my sorrows in a drink than sulk in silence.

_______

9:30 p.m.

I slipped into my most skimpiest outfit I could find which is a cherry red halter neck dress that flirted with my upper thighs and called Unnati.

We arrived at our favorite bar, ordering drinks as Unnati playfully flirted with the bartender. According to her, he was the most attractive bartender around, which is why she always chose him to serve us. Their playful banter had persisted for six months, and I hoped these two would get together some day and I'll pretend to be surprised.

I smiled at her while taking a sip of my Gin Martini, then turned my gaze towards the dance floor. Even in the VIP section of the club, it felt bustling and alive.

There was a VVIP section we could migrate to, but I chose to remain in the more vibrant area, where the sounds from outside drowned out the turmoil within me.

Am I getting poetic? Yeah no. I definitely need another drink. I polished off my glass just as Unnati tugged me toward the dance floor. We began to sway together as the infectious rhythm of the "Humma" song filled the air.

Ek hogaye hum aur tum....

Humma, humma, humma

We started dancing together as the alcohol started playing with my brain chemistry. I felt dizzy yet the most alive. I threw my hands up in the air and swayed my hips.

My father, the wedding, my next case every thought started disappearing as I swayed to the music. I know this is the freedom I'll crave after I get married to him.

I moved a little left when I felt my ankle rotate and I fell on a hard surface. I opened my eyes and looked at what was in front of me, the hard surface is a chest.

Sitam khuli khuli

Ye sanam gori gori

Ye baahein karti hai yoon

Hamein tumne jab gale lagaya

Toh kho hi gaye hum

A very good one at that, "jab sambhala nai jaata toh peena hi kyun?" A husky voice spoke above me.

(If you can't handle it then what's the point of drinking so much?)

As I slowly lifted my gaze, my heart skipped a beat. Could someone like him really exist outside the glossy pages of magazines? Damn.

He smirked knowingly, fully aware that I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. No, no, you can’t be attracted to guys in clubs, you're about to get married, remember? A voice in my head reminded me as the rhythm of the music shifted.

Jo akh lad jave

Saari raat neend na ave

Mainu bada tadpave

Dil chain kahin na paave, paave, paave.

I pushed against his chest, trying to create some space between us, but he held my waist firmly. "Let me go," I glared up at him.

“Abhi toh aai ho pakad main, abhi chhod dun?” He tilted his head slightly, and my glare intensified.

(You just came into my hold and you want me to let you go so soon?)

“Just because I’m drunk, you think you can harass me?” I shouted over the music. Ignoring my words, he lifted his hand and gently caressed my hair, what in the psychopath is this?

I swatted his hand away and pushed him again, and this time, he finally released me. I glanced around and spotted Unnati dancing happily in a guy's arms. Good for her, at least someone was enjoying themselves.

But why shouldn’t I indulge a little too? I’m not married yet, and I certainly can’t expect loyalty from Anirudh, so why not have some fun?

Aaja chal tu

mere saath yaara, chal tu

Yeh raat kabhi na

Aave aave aave

The guy was still staring at me with an intense gaze, there's something in his gaze that I can't pinpoint.

I motioned with my index finger, beckoning him to come closer, and he smirked as he complied. He stood right in front of me, our noses almost touching, his arm snaking around my waist.

Good lord, he had such strong hands! He should have been the father of my children, not that jerk Anirudh. What on earth was I thinking? He was just a random guy I just met!

He chuckled, and I looked at him, confused. “What?” Why was he laughing? Oh no… “Did I say that out loud?” I asked, mortified. This was precisely why I shouldn’t drink.

“Say what? That you want me to be the father of your children?” his laugh intensifies and I scrunch my nose in embarrassment and bury my face in his chest. The one time I wanted to kiss someone and forget about my troubles, I made a fool of myself. Fantastic.

I looked up at him, “You know what? Forget it. I’ve already messed it up.” I turned to walk away, feeling defeated. Couldn’t I even kiss a guy? A voice in my head mocked me.

Just as I was about to leave, I was suddenly pulled around in a swift motion, and my lips collided with his. I gasped, taken aback by the shock of our kiss.

It took a moment for me to process what was happening as he pulled me closer by my waist. I encircled my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

The taste of alcohol mingled with the spiciness of his lips, what had he been drinking? Focus!

He held the back of my neck, deepening the kiss further, and my knees felt weak. Our lips danced together in a passionate battle for dominance.

His grip on me tightened as a low growl escaped his lips, sending a thrill low in my stomach. Am I actually attracted to growling men now? What is happening?

But I craved more, so I brushed my nails along his neck and the back of his head and pulled him closer grabbing the short strands of hair at the back. Yes! Something primal awakened within him, and he began to feast on my lips rather than just kiss me.

Our tongues met, and everything around us faded into silence.

Roobarun khud se hua hun

Mujhme mujhko, tu mila...

Baadlon ke iss jahan main

Aasman tujhe main Mila

The only sounds I could hear were the pulsating beat of the music and the wet sounds of our lips connecting.

If this is how he kisses, then how would he… “LEAVE HER!” I was yanked away from his hold in an instant, reality crashing down around me.

Unnati stood beside me, glaring at the man I had just kissed. “She’s drunk and you took the chance, huh?” Here we go, I sighed, shaking my head.

“I wanted the kiss, Unnati,” I whispered, glancing back at the man, who was now smiling, his gaze on me and ignoring Unnati's question completely. “You what?” Unnati looked at me as if I had just declared the unbelievable.

Yes, I had never really kissed someone like this before, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do it now. Especially not when I was about to marry a man who would cage me forever or at least that's what I'm assuming from what I have heard about him.

I pulled Unnati away from the dance floor. “What’s going on?” she hissed at me. “Nothing, I just wanted to enjoy the remaining days of my freedom,” I sighed, meeting her gaze.

“Oh,” she replied, realization dawning on her. “Shit, I’m sorry! Can’t you just go back to him? I’m sure he’s still waiting for you,” she said, guilt flooding her features for interrupting my plans. To be honest, I couldn’t blame her; I had never been this reckless before, and it must have been surprising for her to see me like this.

“Nah, forget it. We should go,” I said, pulling her with me. We walked out of the club, and I called my driver. “What was his name?” Unnati asked as we waited for our car.

I rummaged through my memory, trying to recall his name. What was it? Wait...Did I even ask for it? No!

I flashed her a sly smile. “I forgot to ask,” I replied as we climbed into the car. “You what?” she exclaimed, and I shot her a warning glare to keep it down for the driver’s sake.

“You kissed him without even knowing his name?” she whispered incredulously. “I mean, I forgot! Who cares? It was just a kiss; I’ll forget it by sunrise,” I said, looking out the window. Hopefully.

The kiss wasn’t like something out of a book or a movie where the heroine gets butterflies or some romantic nonsense in her stomach.

It was just a kiss, but it felt incredible. I had never experienced anything like it before; it was consuming, weakening to the core, yet I would give anything to be kissed like that again.

I touched my swollen lips and sighed. If only I could find someone like him instead of that brat, but one never gets everything they want, do they? I let my head fall back, sleep gradually taking me.

(THIRD PERSON)

He stood by the window, watching her car drive away, a sly smile curling at his lips as he tilted his head. Licking his lips, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Make the whole wedding red-themed,” he ordered.

“But sir, they’ve requested a pastel theme,” the wedding planner stammered, nervousness evident in his voice.

“Tumhari bhabi ko red pasand hai, toh wo kon hote hai pastel karane wale?” he retorted, irritation creeping into his otherwise blissful demeanor.

(If she likes red, who are they to impose a pastel theme?)

“Okay, sir,” he hung up. Pocketing his phone, a full smile bloomed on his face. “What’s got you all smiley today?” Kartik asked, stepping beside him and glancing out the window, trying to decipher his friend’s happiness.

“I’m drunk today,” he replied, and Kartik raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh?” he leaned in closer, attempting to catch a whiff of alcohol on him. “But you don’t really smell drunk, nor do you look like it,” he remarked, perplexed.

He shook his head still smiling, “Not that kind,” he said, walking away and leaving a confused Kartik behind.

____

How was the chapter?

Red themed wedding or pastel?