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Where It All Came Together
Last Updated:
2025-09-30 16:53:28
Latest chapter
Forced Marriage for Revenge Where It All Came Together Part 2
Shweta’s steps halted in front a wall that was filled with one large photograph which covered almost half of the wall, which indicated the end of the long corridor. And her eyes stayed glued to that specific picture making her whole frame freeze. She could not look away even if she wanted to.A tall man standing proudly with two young boys. No, not just any man, but a father standing proudly with his two young sons. All there laughing their heart out showing their whole teeth. All three sharing same facial features. Same eyes, same nose and same hair. The father’s presence filled the entire frame.She had seen the man her whole life. She had slept on his shoulders. She had played tea party with him. She had slept listening to his stories in her childhood. She had visited different child- play area holding his hands. She had seen that father figure growing old. She had seen him in his prime age as one of the most handsome and kind man as well as a man who looks hot even in his sixties.
Forced Marriage for Revenge Where It All Came Together
Third Person POVThe sniper’s screams echoed and bounced off the old walls of the rustic room. That did not and could not stop, Ayaan from inflicting further pain on his body. He pressed his boot harder on the bullet wound on the sniper’s thigh. Ayaan could feel the sniper’s thigh bone shift under his shoes.His jaw clenched, veins standing out on his temple and anger twisted his face in to something dark.“Give me the names.” He thundered, his patience hanging by a thin worn out thread. “Who planned this? Who hired you? Who was the other gang?” A series of punch landed on his face.The sniper groaned in pain, hardly able to breath, on the verge of losing consciousness. His lips parted but no words came, only groans and whimpers escaped.Bending lower, his face inches away from the bloodied man bound to the chair “You think you are strong? You believe I can’t break you?” Holding the sniper’s jaw in a death grip, he made him look at his face, whispering slowly and menacingly, making su
Forced Marriage for Revenge Feel It to Believe It
Shweta POVI woke up slowly, my mind groggy and hazy as if I had been pulled out of my sleep too soon. My throat felt dry and swallowing my saliva turned out to be a task. Before I could open my eyes fully, my mind registered a lot of unfamiliar things. Like the softness beneath me as if I am laying on a cloud and not the hard bed that I was forced to get adjusted to.A thick, warm blanket was wrapped around me and my pillow felt too soft and cushiony. And of course, the temperature is not too hot or too cold, it was perfect. I shifted slightly and a sharp pain tugged at my knees.Opening my eyes fully, I realized the room wasn’t pitch dark like I thought it would be. No, sure the lights were off and the curtains were drawn together so that no light passes through the window and touches this room. Except for one slender streak of sunlight that had somehow managed to slip through a gap in the binds. In that golden hues, I assessed the room trying to make sense of my surrounding.It was
Forced Marriage for Revenge NOT NOW. HOLD BACK. LISTEN.
Ayaan POV“We want him alive, Ayaan. Let him go.” Screams.“Stop this madness right now.” More screams and more punches.The room is absolute chaos. Screams and shouting echoing off the wall.Some tried stopping me, couldn’t recognize who it was. Then Viren uncle, stepped up, his arms wrapped around mine in a desperate attempt to pull me back, to pull me away from the one person who knows the truth.“Stop it, Ayaan. We want answers and we will get it only if he is alive.” His voice extremely strained but I barely registered his words or the logic, beneath the roar of blood in my ears and the fury pounding in my chest. His body wedging between me and the fucker tied to the metal chair. His face bloodied and body bruised.One eye swollen shut and the other barely open. Lips split, blood smearing down his chin. His fingers long gone from his palms, work of my men. No more pulling trigger job for him.My fist flew again, rage guiding it as it landed squarely on my Shweta’s culprit’s face
Forced Marriage for Revenge Pleasure Meeting You
Ayaan POV“What’s the story?” I asked again to ease of some tension that has been building up all these time.“Shweta’s mom, Niharika Bhabhi (Sister-in-law) was supposed to get married to some mafia guy, we didn’t know who he was at that time. Bhabhi was against that alliance. She kind of hated her future husband. We four, Aadi sir, Viren sir, your dad and myself, had gone to Goa to meet an investor for our business. We all had been staying at a Five Star Hotel and Bhabhi was getting engaged in that same hotel to that other guy.” Akash uncle stated.My dad continued “The groom was a widow and had a son. But that was not the reason she said no for that alliance. There were rumors at that time that he had killed his first wife just for some sick fun and he was in search of a young bride for him who should also take care of his son. Bhabhi hated that piece of shit. She knew how he was. After all, we all belonged to the same circle. We had heard about her many times at that time. All the
Forced Marriage for Revenge Art of Losing
Ayaan POVPower and money were the lifeblood of their world, that bought respect, loyalty and ultimately, survival. For the men, who lived their whole life on streets on empty stomach had better understanding about that.They were like a double edged sword and they all were willing to wield it, no matter the cost. Those who held power were witnesses that wealth followed power, like a loyal shadow trailing its master. Every mafia man knew that to rise through the ranks, one had to be willing to do whatever it took to grasp and hold on to power.My nana, my dad, my uncles and maybe my mom and her sister knew it too. So, they did what had to be done to survive and rise above the ranks.Victory is not always about fighting till you die or till you win. No, sometimes it’s about mastering the art of losing. The greatest victories come from knowing when to surrender, when to yield. My nana, my mom and my Badi-ma had mastered that art.They knew survival was impossible on that day, if they ke
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