The grand day had finally arrived.
Devendra Pratap's mansion stood like a garden blooming in spring, adorned with stunning traditional décor, all set for a splendid celebration.
The entire mansion was alive with activity—women gracefully serving welcome drinks at the entrance, village elders overseeing the seating and food arrangements, and Devendra Pratap and his family, elegantly dressed, welcoming each guest with warm smiles.
All eyes awaited the arrival of the groom’s procession.
Before her dressing mirror, Rithanya studied her reflection one last time. Draped in a brown-bordered, checkered rust-orange saree and adorned with intricate jewelry, she looked every bit the radiant bride.
Her head felt heavy with strands of jasmine and roses woven into her long braid.
But her heart felt even heavier with the emotions it carried.
With mixed feelings of joy and anxiety, she stepped out to join the sacred rituals in the prayer room.
The groom, Raghav, arrived with his family and relatives.
After the traditional groom-welcoming ceremony performed by Devendra Pratap and his wife, Raghav and the Aranthads walked to the mandap—a sacred, temporary four-pillared structure—to conduct the wedding rituals.
Seated beside the pandit, Raghav began the rituals with composed reverence. As custom dictated, the bride was called.
Escorted by her half-brother and stepmother, Rithanya entered the mandap, her presence drawing every gaze. Holding a flower garland, she approached Raghav.
The exchange of garlands marked the beginning, and she took her place beside him.
As the rituals unfolded, the moment everyone had been eagerly anticipating finally arrived.
At the pandit’s instruction, Raghav tied the sacred thread—the mangalsutra—around Rithanya’s neck, sealing their union amidst chants and blessings.
The marriage ceremony concluded with the couple seeking the blessings of their parents, elders, and family members.
But fate had other plans.
Just as the bride’s farewell rituals were about to begin, the distant roar of approaching jeeps shattered the sanctity of the moment.
The sound grew louder—urgent, intrusive—until it came to an abrupt halt at the mansion gates.
Puzzled and confused, all eyes turned toward the main door.
What they saw left everyone in shock.
A police squad marched in. Four officers, stern-faced and unyielding, advanced toward the mandap with purpose.
Perplexed by the uninvited intrusion, Devendra Pratap hurried toward them, wiping the sudden beads of sweat from his forehead.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, forcing authority into his trembling voice.
The leading officer stepped forward.
"You are under arrest," he declared coldly, raising a pair of handcuffs. "For fraud and large-scale scam operations in your jewellery business."
The words struck like thunder.
Devendra Pratap’s face lost all colour.
His lips trembled. Sweat gathered across his forehead.
Kaamini Rani stood still, a faint unreadable smile playing on her lips. She simply watched her husband's downfall.
The groom’s family and guests looked on in utter disbelief.
"Sir, there must be some mistake. This is a wedding ceremony—you cannot barge in and humiliate us like this," Maheshwar Swamy intervened firmly, taking control of the situation.
The officer turned sharply. "Do you truly know this man?" he asked, gesturing toward Devendra Pratap.
Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Are you aware that he runs a jewellery business in Gurunagar city, where he makes imitation jewellery and sells it at the price of real gold?"
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"He said he owns a jewellery business in a distant city, but what is imitation jewellery?" one of the villagers asked hesitantly.
"Oh! This is how he runs his business—fooling innocent and unsuspecting villagers," the officer said, letting out a dry laugh as he glanced at Devendra Pratap.
"Cheap metal coated with gold. Fake jewellery sold as real." he revealed, addressing the crowd.
Gasps filled the air.
Some villagers looked horrified. Others looked disgusted.
“A fraud…” “So this was his real business?” “He cheated people for money?”
The whispers spread rapidly, each one striking harder than the last.
Rithanya stood frozen beneath the mandap.
Every word felt like another crack beneath her feet.
The officer signaled his men.
“Further details will be uncovered at the station. He and his accomplices will face legal consequences,” he concluded.
Within moments, Devendra Pratap was handcuffed.
The respected man who had welcomed guests with pride only moments ago was now dragged away before the eyes of the entire village.
The police jeeps sped away, leaving behind a silence heavier than chaos itself.
No one moved.
The entire gathering stood speechless, unable to believe what they had just witnessed.
The pleasant aroma of jasmine that once filled the air was replaced by the stench of betrayal.
The Aranthads stood numb—betrayed, humiliated, and in disbelief—struggling to accept the truth that had just unraveled.
Rithanya stood exactly where the ritual had ended—staring at the empty space where her new life had just collapsed before it even began.
Her fingers slowly lifted to the mangalsutra… as if confirming it was not a dream she could wake up from.
Her breath trembled. No words came.
Around her, the world reacted.
But inside her, there was only silence.
What was she going through? Nobody bothered to question.
She could already sense the heat around her.
Will the unmasked truth burn her completely?
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Author's Note:
Every vote, comment, every bit of support gives life to Rithanya's world. 🤍
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