The Malhotra estate hadn’t hosted a celebration in years. Not since the funerals.

But tonight, it glowed.

Crimson roses bloomed against silk canopies. Hundreds of candles floated on the central courtyard fountain. Guests in tailored suits and couture gowns watched from velvet chairs, the entire venue guarded like a fortress.

Because this wasn’t just a wedding.

It was a declaration.

The Mafia King was claiming his queen.

Inside the bridal suite, Aashika stood in front of the mirror. Her lehenga was the deepest red, embroidered in gold thorns and obsidian beads. The veil shimmered, heavy with tradition and warning.

Chaotic bangles jingled as her best friend fussed with the dupatta.

"You’re marrying Riaz Malhotra. Do you realize that? That’s not just a man, Aashi. That’s an empire."

"He’s mine," Aashika said softly, adjusting her earring. "And I’m his. That’s all I need to know."

But even she could feel the electric air, the danger circling the edges of celebration.

She picked up the bracelet he wore—the one she meant to gift him years ago—and kissed it.

At the altar, Riaz stood like a statue carved from midnight.

Sherwani black. Dupatta blood-red.

His eyes never left the entrance.

When Aashika appeared, he exhaled like he hadn’t breathed in years.

The crowd stilled.

She walked to him slowly. Graceful. Radiant. Untouchable.

He stepped forward. Took her hand.

The priest chanted. The fire burned. And with every vow, Riaz’s grip tightened.

"I vow to love you like sin and guard you like treasure."

"I vow to protect what we’ve built, with blood if I must."

"I vow to be yours—body, name, soul. Until the gods burn out."

Aashika whispered her vows back.

Soft. Fierce. Eternal.

When the final vermillion was smeared across her forehead, Riaz leaned close and murmured, "You’re mine, now and forever. No soul gets to touch what I call home."

Then he kissed her in front of everyone. No hesitation. No fear.

And the mafia world bowed their heads.

A king had chosen.

That night, as firecrackers lit the skies and music echoed through the hills, Riaz locked their bedroom door behind him.

Aashika stood by the window, undoing her jewelry. He walked behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.

"You didn’t run," he whispered.

"You’d have chased me."

He turned her around.

"Now let me show you what forever feels like."

And under candlelight and velvet sheets, they made their first night unforgettable—every kiss a promise, every touch a warning to the world:

Riaz Malhotra had given her his name.

And would kill to protect it

But it didn’t end in that bed.

Riaz wasn’t just making love—he was claiming her.

He carried her through the halls, pressing her against marble walls, kissing her like he needed her breath to survive. Her bridal dupatta slipped off, trailing behind them like a fallen flag. The living room, the staircase, even the kitchen island—every surface became his altar of obsession.

He tore the red silk from her body slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on hers as if undressing her soul. Her moans echoed off the walls as he devoured her like she was his final meal.

She gasped his name when he bent her over the dining table, her hands gripping the polished wood as he filled her with raw, unrelenting need. No gentleness. Just heat. Just hunger. His fingers tangled in her hair as he whispered filth and vows alike into her ear.

"You're mine, Aashi. My bride. My prize. My curse."

He made her scream on the grand staircase, the white banister digging into her back while he thrust into her like a man possessed.

"I waited years for this," he growled, biting her shoulder. "You’re not walking tomorrow."

By the time they collapsed back into the bed, her skin wore the marks of his mouth—her wrists kissed by his grip, her thighs trembling from how many times he made her come.

He kissed her temple, chest rising and falling against hers.

"This house will never forget tonight," he said.

She smiled, voice hoarse, body wrecked. "Neither will I."

And he sealed it with another kiss, soft this time. Reverent.

Because in every corner of that mansion...

Aashika Pandey had been worshipped.