*"Not afraid of anyone?"** The man's eyes had turned completely red, as if blood had filled them.
His grip on the boy's neck grew even tighter.
He was choking the boy so hard now that the boy had started to lose his breath. But even after all this, not a single trace of fear could be seen on the boy's face. Seeing this, the man became even more furious. With hatred in his eyes, he looked straight into the boy's and said:
**"You're not afraid of anyone, right? No problem... but now, you'll definitely be afraid of your life."**
As he said this, his eyes turned ice-cold.
Besides the boy, the man, and his guards, there was someone else present there—someone who was trembling in fear while witnessing this terrifying scene.
It was the priest who had been dragged there by the man's men. He was the same priest who was supposed to conduct their wedding. After the boy ran away from the wedding altar, they kidnapped the priest too, thinking they'd find the boy and get him married on the spot.
The priest looked extremely frightened. And why wouldn't he be? Four guns were pointed right at his head.
**"Pandit! Start chanting the mantras... the groom has been found,"** the man said in a chilling voice, without even glancing at the priest.
The man's voice sent a wave of terror through the priest. Because this was no ordinary man—he was a mafia boss. Not only was he powerful in India, but his influence extended beyond its borders.
As soon as he spoke, the bodyguards standing behind him sprang into action. Out of the ten-twelve fierce and bulky guards, two stepped forward and began to drag the priest forcefully.
**"Let me go! This is a sin! It goes against the laws of nature—this is forced!"**
The priest pleaded and begged them, but his screams fell on deaf ears. No one there had a heart. They were all merciless.
The guards cruelly shoved the priest, making him fall at the man's feet. As he hit the ground, his glasses fell off and landed nearby. With trembling hands, he tried to pick them up. Fear was clearly written all over his face. His lips were moving, but his words disappeared into the air.
A few moments later, the man tried to control his angry breathing and stood up.
There was a strange, dangerous, obsessed, and merciless gleam in his eyes.
He picked up some scattered sticks and piled them up in one place. After that, he looked at the boy lying on the ground, his face wet with tears.
Seeing him in that state brought a twisted smile to the man's lips. It seemed he took pleasure in seeing him suffer.
That smile on his lips was burning the boy from the inside.
He kept staring at him with teary eyes.
After staring at the boy for a while, the man took out a shiny golden lighter from his pocket and flicked it open. A blue flame rose from it, and in the very next moment, the wood caught fire. As the flames rose, his shadow in the dark appeared even more terrifying and sinister.
After lighting the fire, he turned again toward the boy, who was still lying on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
Now, fear had started to appear in his eyes, but his lips remained tightly pressed in defiance.
The man grabbed his hand in one swift motion and yanked him up with full force.
**"There will be no more arguments..."** he said, looking into the boy's eyes with fury.
**"This wedding will happen today, here and now. And now, nothing can stop it—no one, absolutely no one."**
Then he glanced toward the priest standing nearby, who was now staring at him in disbelief.
The priest couldn't understand how someone could be so cruel.
The boy standing in front of him was crying so hard that his eyes had turned red, but the man didn't care at all. All he cared about was getting married.
The priest couldn't understand—if the boy didn't even like him, then what was the point of this forced marriage?
The man cast a cold gaze at the priest, making his fear clearly visible. Beads of sweat began dripping down the priest's forehead.
**"Pandit... start the mantras!"** he ordered in a chilling tone.
Terrified by his anger, the priest was shaking badly. His hands and feet trembled, and his lips stammered out some fearful words, but he still hadn't begun the chanting.
He couldn't understand whether this was right or wrong—whether, according to his faith, this act could be justified.
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