The Gift Of Love|√ (published)

Prologue

A loud screech of wheels echoed through the almost empty highway as the car executed another U-turn. Call it his stroke of good luck or her stroke of misfortune; it had resulted in the near absence of any other souls on a road known for its bustling crowds. Encounters with such deserted stretches were rare, and he couldn't help but thank the universe for this stroke of fortune that bent reality to his desires.A satisfied smile curled upon his lips as he envisioned the events about to unfold in the near future. He was elated, overjoyed to finally have her all to himself, even if it meant she was taken against her will. He knew he was wrong, but he also knew that his love for her justified any action.---With slightly blurred vision, Kratika reluctantly opened her eyes, immediately closing them again to shield them from the intrusive rays of light. After a few moments, she mustered the strength to open them once more, allowing her eyes to adjust.Slowly, she sat up on the unfamiliar bed she found herself lying on. She scanned the room, piecing together the events of the day before in her mind, though they seemed to jumble together out of sequence.It wasn't long before she comprehended the full scope of what had transpired, from her wedding to her abduction by Viraj. Panic set in. The uncertainty of her future welled up, causing tears to escape her brown eyes, borne of a mixture of worry and fear.Wiping her cheeks, Kratika surveyed her surroundings. Cream-colored wooden walls, weathered and on the verge of collapse, told a tale of neglect. Fungi clung to various spots, further evidence of the room's dilapidated state. A small, battered wooden table stood near a shattered window, offering a glimpse of a lake beyond, likely at the rear of the house. A broken lamp, decrepit cupboards with shattered doors—everything spoke of disuse and decay. Only the bed remained in serviceable condition.As Kratika moved towards the fractured window, a glimmer of hope flickered. "Where are you, Viraj? What are your intentions? I must find out, act, Kratika, before it's too late," she urged herself.Each step creaked on the floorboards, a stark reminder of her captivity. Viraj wasn't foolish; the doors were surely locked. Her only hope lay in that window, a slim chance of escape.Her anklets chimed a melancholy tune with every stride, bangles serving as a reminder of her dire circumstances. She felt like the most cursed bride in the world. Overwhelmed, she recalled every encounter with Viraj—the arguments, animosity, and ultimately, the day she had slapped him in front of everyone, rebelling against the humiliation he had inflicted upon her.That day, she had sworn to make his life a torment. But it seemed fate, and perhaps a cruel sense of irony, had conspired against her. Even in this perilous moment, her one glimmer of hope shattered. The drop was too steep, and the weakened wood couldn't bear her weight.What cruel twist of fate led her to be kidnapped by her most bitter enemy on her wedding day?"Wasn't his past tormenting enough for him?" she wondered aloud. "Did he have to destroy not only my happiness but my family's as well?"Her hatred for him surged to new heights, if that were even possible.With painstaking steps, she returned to the bed, her refuge in this decrepit house. Sitting down, she looked at her hands, adorned with henna. This was meant to be her wedding day—a dream turned into a nightmare by the one person she despised."It should have been my name," he declared, intruding upon the bedroom of this forsaken house.Startled, she turned to face the devil himself. Fear gripped her, imagining the horrors he could inflict in this desolate place, beyond anyone's reach.Why shouldn't she be afraid? He was her archenemy, Viraj.The Viraj Malhotra, scion of Viraj Incorporation Limited and the younger son of Kartika Malhotra. He was the twin brother of Vihaan Malhotra, whose adoration and indulgence had spoiled him.Though they were twins, Viraj was born an hour later than Vihaan. Their personalities diverged greatly. Viraj was notorious for his Casanova reputation, a stark contrast to Vihaan's boyish charm. Viraj's short temper and arrogance were infamous, while Vihaan exuded a more mature demeanor.From the start, Viraj was headstrong. It was his way or no way.Viraj took purposeful steps toward her, relishing her trepidation. He found it both exhilarating and infuriating. If only this moment had arrived in the days when he relished tormenting her, he would have savored the situation. But now, when he loved her with every fiber of his being, those tears streaming from her eyes pierced him.She took measured steps in opposition to his approach, a futile endeavor to create distance. "Beautiful," he murmured, taking in her full form.He had seen her in various guises—anger, serenity, tenderness, defiance, arrogance, hatred. Yet, this bridal attire seemed to unravel him.He had glimpsed her while abducting her, but rage had blinded him to her appearance. Focused solely on the affront of seeing her prepare for someone else, he had sedated her without a second thought.Now, he looked into her eyes after his whispered words, and the intensity therein rattled her to the core. A sob escaped her, causing him to clench his jaw, striving to steady himself."Why did I slap him?" Kratika berated herself. This devil had officially entered her life on that day."Jaan," he began, closing the gap between them, "you look breathtaking."She was a vision, as if descended from heaven. Only he knew the struggle to restrain himself from claiming her then and there."But your henna should bear my name, shouldn't it?" he mused, drawing nearer.Her shiver betrayed her, and she trembled in fear."What do you want, Viraj?" she finally mustered."Don't feign ignorance, Jaan. If you insist on playing coy, allow me to be blunt. You, Jaan. I want you, I need you, and you are mine, come what may." He declared with unwavering resolve.She couldn't fathom him.One moment he was seething at her for the public humiliation, and the next, he stood before her with that determined, intimidating look, staking a claim on her.What was this madness? Kratika looked at him, utterly bewildered.He had tormented her, tortured her for years. Now, when she had given up and tried to move on, he reappeared.He stood before her, closing the distance until she was pinned against the wall. His hands bracketed her, leaning in.She tried to create space, but Viraj allowed none. He relished the intimacy and the sight of her trembling, pink lips. He was on the brink of seizing her lips with his when her voice pierced through."Why—" She broke off, choked with sobs."Stop pretending you don't know. Isn't it obvious? Because I love you." There, he had said it. Sixteen years of suppressed emotion finally laid bare. While he had confessed before, it had been misunderstood. Now, there was no room for misinterpretation.She stared at him, shock etched across her face, which oddly pleased him. With sudden resolve, he stepped back, shouting at the top of his lungs."Did you hear me, Kratika? I love you. And as I've said before, it will be me who marries you. I will make it happen." He declared, collapsing onto the bed, arms outstretched. He laughed, a contented sound, having witnessed Kratika's stunned expression.---I hope you find this edited version to be an improvement! 

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