No escape from him

"I can't marry him," she whispered, clutching her backpack tightly. There was no time to change out of her wedding attire. With trembling hands, she tied the bedsheets into makeshift knots, securing them to the window ledge. Tears streaked her face, a mix of fear and desperation fueling her resolve.

"I have to reach the bus stand before he finds me," she murmured to herself, swallowing the lump in her throat.

As she climbed down, her heart pounded in rhythm with her steps. "I'm sorry, Dadi Sa," she whispered to the night. "I have to escape."

Ranvijay's world shattered the moment he realized she was missing. A rage unlike any other coursed through his veins, blinding him to reason. He loved her—deeply, maddeningly—but he knew she hated him. What he never anticipated was that her hatred would drive her to such an extreme, leaving him to grapple with the possibility of losing her forever.

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. The life he had dreamed of giving her, the love he wanted to shower upon her, was slipping away. The thought alone terrified him. "Wrong move, sweetheart," he muttered, a dark promise lingering in his tone. "But you won't escape me."

He barked orders to his men, his voice sharp and commanding. "Find her. Search every street, every corner. Before anyone realizes the bride is missing—especially Dadi Sa. She sees Myra as her daughter, and this would break her heart."

With a flick of his wrist, he called someone on his phone. "Seal all transportation. Announce a reward for anyone who finds her. I want the borders locked down. She can't step a foot outside this city." His voice was cold, calculating, every word drenched in authority.

Meanwhile, Myra, oblivious to the storm brewing behind her, clutched her backpack tightly as she boarded a bus to Kolkata. Dressed in her wedding attire, she drew suspicious glances, particularly from the bus conductor, whose eyes lingered on her longer than she liked. She tried to calm her nerves, leaning back as the bus rumbled to life. Relief washed over her as they left the station. Maybe now, he won't be able to find me. Once I get somewhere safe, I can sell my jewelry, find a job—anything to start over.

Hours later, the bus jerked to a halt in the middle of nowhere. The barren ground stretched endlessly, with no sign of life around. Passengers began murmuring, questioning why they had stopped. Myra's heartbeat quickened as she scanned her surroundings.

The conductor suddenly stood up, his eyes locking onto her. "You. Get off," he barked.

Myra frowned, clutching her bag tighter. "Why? I've paid for my ticket."

But he didn't respond. Instead, he grabbed her arm, pulling her up roughly. Myra struggled, refusing to budge. Panic rose in her chest as he dragged her down the aisle. "Let me go!" she yelled, but he ignored her cries, shoving her out of the bus.

She stumbled onto the dirt, the sound of the bus doors slamming behind her echoing in the silence. Dust filled the air as the bus sped away, leaving her alone in the desolate landscape. Myra's heart raced. She was stranded—and she had no idea what was waiting for her. Myra sat on the dusty ground, her wedding attire now smeared with dirt, and questioned everything that had brought her to this moment. Why does everything have to be so difficult for me? she thought, her chest tightening with despair. Tears welled in her eyes, but she was too drained to cry. The weight of her life's struggles pressed down on her like an unrelenting storm.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them to her chest, and buried her face in her arms. She felt small, lost, and utterly defeated. This was the first time she had ever stepped out of the confines of her home—her cage—and yet, the world seemed even harsher than the prison she had left behind.

The unanswered question gnawed at her: Why did the bus leave me? What did I do to deserve this? Her mind raced with fears and doubts, each one darker than the last. She had no idea where she was or what to do next. The unfamiliarity of her surroundings only deepened her helplessness.

For the first time since her escape, she felt her hope slipping away. The thought of going back crossed her mind, but she pushed it aside. No. I can't go back. I won't. But as the minutes dragged on, the cruel reality of her situation tightened its grip, and Myra felt herself drowning in despair. Suddenly, the wind picked up, swirling dust around her. Myra looked up, startled, as the deafening roar of a chopper filled the air. Its blades sliced through the silence, sending her hair flying in all directions. Shielding her eyes, she stood up, squinting against the force of the wind. Maybe there's someone who can help me, she thought, a glimmer of hope igniting in her chest.

But that hope quickly turned to dread. Expensive cars, sleek and intimidating, appeared out of nowhere, their engines roaring as they formed a circle around her. The air grew heavy with tension, and Myra's heart pounded wildly in her chest.

The chopper landed with a precision that only heightened her unease. Dust settled, and the door opened. A figure stepped out, tall and commanding, his silhouette exuding authority and danger.

Myra's breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto him. Fear gripped her as realization dawned. This wasn't a chance encounter. This was deliberate. Her escape had ended before it had even begun.