His Bride

By Allora_davy2

573 125 6

Dhruv Chauhan was a name that evoked awe and fear. A cold, ruthless, and heartless businessman, he dominated... More

Dedication
Copyright
Content Warning
Character Aesthetics 1
1 | Arushi Mehara
2 | Dhruv Chauhan
3 | Daughter
4 | Quality Time
5 | Trivarna ?
6 | Sunday Plans
7 | Blank Check
8 | Unexpected Encounter
9 | Netra Mehta
10 | Weak ?
11 | He is Alive
12 | I Knew You Would Come Back
13 / The King
14/ The Only One

Prologue

55 8 3
By Allora_davy2

Third Person Pov

The house was quiet, too quiet. As she stepped through the doorway, a chill ran down her spine. The familiar creaks of the old floor, once comforting, now felt ominous, and the air carried a sickening, metallic tang.

She didn't understand why-until she saw them.

In the middle of the living room lay her father, her mother, and her little brother, their lifeless bodies surrounded by pools of blood that soaked into the carpet. She froze, feeling as though she'd stepped into someone else's nightmare, one that she couldn't wake up from. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest as she stumbled forward, her knees threatening to give way.

"Mom?" she whispered, her voice barely a thread. "Dad?" She waited, almost expecting them to stir, to look up and laugh as if this were some kind of awful joke. But they didn't move. Her mother's hand lay outstretched, mere inches from her brother's small, lifeless form, as though she had tried to reach him at the very end. Her father's face was twisted in horror, his eyes wide open and staring at nothing.

She fell to her knees beside them, reaching out with a trembling hand to touch her mother's shoulder, only to recoil as the reality of their cold unmoving bodies sunk in. Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes, but she refused to blink them away, afraid to look away from them, afraid that if she did, she'd lose them forever.
"Please.." Her voice broke, barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Please, wake up."

A crushing silence was her only answer. Her gaze flicked to her little brother, who lay crumpled beside their mother, his face still so innocent, so untouched by life's cruelties-until now. The sight of him, so young, so vulnerable, tore something loose inside her. Rage began to simmer beneath her grief, a boiling fury directed at whoever had taken her family from her. Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms until they drew blood. She wanted to scream, to tear the world apart, to make someone, anyone, pay.

But then the rage dissolved as quickly as it had come, leaving her hollow and trembling. Memories began to flood her mind —her father's steady hand teaching her to ride a bike, her mother's warm embrace, her brother's laughter as he clung to her on piggyback rides. Each memory felt like a stab, twisting deeper with each reminder of the love they'd shared, now lost forever.

The overwhelming guilt followed, gnawing at her heart. If only she had been here sooner. If only she had known, had somehow sensed they were in danger, maybe she could've saved them. She sank down beside them, clutching her brother's tiny hand in hers, her silent sobs shaking her entire frame.

In that moment, she felt as if the universe had hollowed her out, leaving her a shell, empty of everything but the aching void their absence left behind. Her family-their laughter, their warmth, their love— was gone, and all that was left was this silence and her promise to them, whispered through tears.

"I'll find who did this," she vowed, her voice trembling but fierce. "I swear it."

And as she sat there, clutching their lifeless hands, her tears mingling with the bloodstains around her, she knew her life would never be the same.

"This was my revenge, only mine."

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