Chapter 38 – The Secret Vows

Veeresh rose from her lap abruptly, his body taut with a storm that could no longer be contained. His hand caught Poornima’s wrist before she could protest, his grip firm but not cruel, his eyes blazing with an unshakable decision.

“Veeresh—what are you—?”

But he didn’t answer. He pulled her through the quiet college gates, out onto the dimly lit street. She stumbled behind him, her dupatta trailing, her heart hammering in her chest. He waved down an auto-rickshaw with the authority of a man who was never denied, and before she could resist, he guided her inside.

“Driver—nearest temple. Fast.” His voice was sharp, commanding.

Poornima sat beside him, her breath uneven, her palms cold. “Mr. Raj, this is wrong. You can’t—leave me. Please.” Her words trembled between fear and desperate control.

He turned to her, his gaze unflinching. “No, Poornima. Wrong is letting them chain you into a deal. Wrong is watching you walk into my brother’s life while every beat of your heart belongs here—with me.”

The auto screeched to a halt before a small temple glowing in the night, its bells echoing faintly in the silence. Veeresh stepped out, pulling her gently but firmly with him.

Before she could protest again, he had already taken the silver sindur box from the priest’s plate, his hand trembling yet sure. His eyes locked on hers—dark, burning, vulnerable.

“Veeresh, don’t…” she whispered, tears threatening.

But he ignored her words. His thumb brushed her hairline, and in one fierce, irreversible stroke, he pressed the red vermillion into the parting of her hair. The mark flamed against her skin, declaring her his.

Poornima gasped, her hand flying to her forehead, her lips trembling.

He didn’t stop. From the priest’s offerings, Veeresh picked up a black-and-gold mangalsutra, his hands steady now with unshakable resolve. He fastened it around her neck, the beads settling against her chest like a chain of destiny itself.

The priest, startled but silent, began chanting. Veeresh took Poornima’s hand, pulling her into the sanctum, circling the holy fire. Seven steps. Seven vows. Each one taken with a grip that promised eternity.

When the final round ended, Veeresh stopped, his eyes locked with hers. His voice broke through the night, low but absolute.

“Our wedding is secret, Poornima. Until my mission is complete, no one will know. But your engagement… it will never happen. Not now. Not ever. From this moment, you are mine—Mrs. Poornima Veeresh Raj.”

Tears blurred her vision, her lips quivering between disbelief and a truth her heart had longed for. She wanted to resist, to argue—but when she looked into his eyes, she saw no doubt. Only love. Only possession. Only him.

Before she could speak, he cupped her face and kissed her—deeply, fiercely, passionately. The kiss was raw, shattering, their souls colliding. His lips demanded, hers yielded, every breath mingling into one.

He pulled her closer, eliminating every inch of distance, his arms locking around her as though he would never let go. In that kiss, words became meaningless. His love, his desperation, his vow—all of it poured into her without a single syllable spoken.

And for the first time, Poornima kissed him back—not as a professor, not as a daughter chained to duty, but as a woman who had just become his.

That night, under the temple bells, Veeresh Raj broke every boundary—and bound her to him forever.