She was like a freshly married bride.

Her shaky fingers were lifting up to feel the sindoor as though she could not believe it was the sindoor. As soon as her fingertips came into contact with it, her eyes were closed, and her tears were streaming on her cheeks.

What have I done? What have I done? She whispered in a choked, broken voice. I ruined my life for money."

Her lips were shaking violently. But all at once the idea of her mother came to her. Swiveling her head and wiping her tears, she shook her head.

"No, Eeshani, you can't be weak. This was done so that you could save the life of your mother. It's not wrong. This was a mere compulsion, nothing more, of marriage. That kind of relationship... just because of helplessness.

Giving a deep breath, she surveyed once more the money in her hand. It does not suit me to wed him, she told herself. "Because I was forced into it. It was a lie, a trap. I do not know that man, and he does not know me. And I will not have him ever do it.

She made an attempt to relax but turned to look at her side table and, as she did, froze. Something felt wrong.

"My phone..." she murmured. She was hastily looking around the room, under the pillow, and in the bed, and her heart started beating more rapidly. "Where's my phone? Did I drop it there? No... no, that can't be. It must be here somewhere!"

She got up hurriedly, pinned the money on the dressing table, and had scanned every part of the room, but the phone was missing. She was tired and frightened and sat on the bed, looking up in despair.

"Oh, God," she said, and the tears filled up once more, "please... please, do not have my phone discovered." When one gets it, I will be in serious trouble. I am not able to deal with any more issues. My life is already a mess. Please, God, not again..."

She reclined on the bed, closed her eyes, and all that occurred that day played in her mind. The tears still rolled periodically down her cheeks.

In the meantime, Vikrant stopped his car in the car park of the hotel. He came out, entered the building, and proceeded directly to his penthouse through the elevator.

Meanwhile, Eeshani had changed her dress and walked on to the terrace of the hotel. The terrace restaurant overlooked the entirety of Delhi and was lit up by several thousands of city lights. There was a lot of flowering, and vegetation, and strands of gentle lights, which made the place very warm and romantic.

Eeshani, who sat at the table on the opposite end, stared in silence at the stars. Her expression was unmoved, unfeeling. It was nearly half an hour before she recovered herself.

Then suddenly an image came before her of Vikrant taking her in his arms and swearing the wedding vows around the fire. The memory was like being stabbed by a knife. She fainted and wept incessantly. Her sniveling was heard throughout the deserted terrace.

Just then a long dark figure appeared in her rear.