Garv Rathore, the eldest son of the powerful Rathore family, is a strict and serious man. Standing at 6'1", 27, The professor, disciplined nature and sharp intellect. He believes in responsibility over emotions and keeps a distance from attachments. A single father, his world revolves around his daughter, the only softness in his otherwise tough life.

Ishani Chauhan, the 25-year-old elder daughter of the Chauhan family, has always been the quiet, responsible one. Standing at 5'5", she carries the weight of expectations with grace, even when treated as second to her younger sister. A assistant professor, she finds solace in the world of knowledge, preferring logic over chaos. Raised to prioritize duty over dreams.

Garv and Ishani were opposites—one lived by rules, the other by emotions. He was a strict, grumpy professor who valued control, while she was a quiet yet strong-willed woman searching for her own path. He built walls around his heart, and she unknowingly started breaking them. Their marriage wasn’t a choice, but fate had tied them together. In a life filled with unspoken words and hidden emotions, two unwilling hearts find their way to each other.

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Aashvika Chauhan, the 24-year-old younger daughter of the Chauhan family, confident and rebellious. Standing at 5'6", she has always been the bold, outspoken one, living life on her own terms. A talented fashion designer, she thrives on creativity and refuses to be confined by traditions. Unlike her sister, she never let expectations dictate her choices.



Dhruv Rathore, the 25-year-old younger son of the Rathore family, is a free-spirited and charming man who refuses to be bound by traditions. Standing at 6'0", he carries an effortless confidence, his easy going nature and sharp mind. A travel photographer by profession along with family business. He thrives on adventure, capturing the world through his lens instead of following the path set for him.

Dhruv and Aashvika were like a storm and wildfire—unpredictable and unstoppable. They had once run from their own wedding, only to find fate pulling them back together. He was carefree and full of adventure; she was fierce and independent. They clashed, argued, and challenged each other at every step. Yet, between the chaos and stolen moments, they found something unexpected—love, wild and predestined, just like them.

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OTHER CHARACTERS

Virendra Chauhan – The head of the Chauhan family, a strict and traditional businessman who runs a successful diamond empire. He prioritizes family honor above personal choices.

Meera Chauhan – A devoted homemaker who upholds family traditions but struggles with the biased treatment of her daughters.

Ranveer Rathore – A powerful and forward-thinking businessman who owns a prestigious jewelry chain. He values ambition and success but also gives his children the freedom to make their own choices.

Vaidehi Rathore – A graceful and supportive woman, involved in managing the family business while maintaining a balance between tradition and modern values.

Samaira Rathore – The youngest in the Rathore family, an aspiring fashion designer with a bold and independent personality.

Ruhi Rathore – Garv’s adopted daughter, a bright and lively child who is the only softness in his otherwise rigid world. She is his greatest responsibility and his biggest weakness.

Prakhar Saxena – Aashvika’s lover.

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Somewhere behind the venue, In a dimly lit alley, two figures stood frozen, struggling to catch their breath. Aashvika's heart pounded as she stared at the man in front of her.

Her fiancé.

The same man she had just run away from marrying.

"Tum?" she whispered, eyes wide with shock.

Dhruv’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his expression mirroring hers. "Tum?"

The silence between them felt heavy. They both realized the truth at the same time—sharp, unbelievable, and almost funny in its absurdity.

Dhruv frowned, taking a step closer. "Tum yahan kya kar rahi ho?"

Aashvika crossed her arms, letting out a short laugh. "Tum kya kar rahe ho?"

Another second passed before realization hit them both.

Dhruv narrowed his eyes. "Ruko... tum bhaag gayi ho shaadi se?" His voice rose in disbelief. He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Par kyun? Kya kami thi mujh mein? Itna handsome toh hoon!"

Aashvika blinked at him in sheer astonishment before flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Excuse me? Bhage toh tum bhi ho! Toh tumhe kya problem thi mujhse shaadi karne mein?"

Their words clashed, accusations flying, but neither had the answers. And then, the biggest question loomed over them.

A sound caught their attention. Turning towards a small tea stall, they saw an old television screen flickering. A group of locals sat sipping tea, eyes glued to the live broadcast of the wedding.

But it wasn’t their wedding.

Their breaths hitched as they saw the mandap, the sacred fire, the priest chanting mantras. The ceremony was continuing as planned. But the couple sitting there...

Dhruv ran a hand through his hair, frustration building. "Main yahan hoon, tum yahan ho… toh ek minute—shaadi hui kiski?"

Aashvika stared at him, realization sinking in like ice in her veins.

Meanwhile, inside the wedding hall, The Chauhans and the Rathores—two powerful families were set to unite through marriage. The venue sparkled under golden lights, and the air was filled with the scent of celebration. Guests were exchanging greetings, unaware that everything was about to change.Because something had gone terribly wrong.

The grand venue had fallen silent. Guests who had been laughing moments ago now whispered in confusion.

The media cameras flashed, journalists murmured, pens ready to note every twist in this unexpected drama. The priest sat before the sacred fire, his chants faltering as uncertainty filled the air.

Then, two powerful voices cut through the chaos. Ranveer Rathore and Virendra Chauhan stood at the center, their expressions firm.

"Mere bade bete, Garv Rathore, aur Virendra Chauhan ki beti, Ishani Chauhan, ko apna aashirwad dijiyega."

Journalists scrambled to capture the moment, cameras flashing, pens racing across notepads.

Under the glow of the ceremonial flames, Ishani sat frozen, hidden beneath the heavy bridal veil. The weight of her jewelry felt like chains, her embroidered lehenga suffocating her. Her hands clenched the fabric tightly, her heart pounding. She could barely breathe.

Across from her, Garv Rathore sat still, his expression unreadable. His jaw was tight, his dark eyes staring straight ahead, refusing to look at the woman beside him.

Neither of them chosen this yet their fates had been sealed.

And outside, two people who had run from their own wedding had unknowingly set the stage for a new beginning—for two strangers bound by a marriage neither had ever wanted.

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