MORNING CHAINS
The morning sun crept lazily into the chamber, painting the silk sheets in molten gold. Aayat stirred, only to find her body encaged in the iron grip of Anirudh Singh Rathore. His bare chest pressed into her back, his arm locked around her waist like a shackle.
She tried to slide out from under him.
His voice, low and edged with menace, shattered the silence.
"Trying to escape ?"
Her pulse raced. "I—I just wanted to get up."
He tightened his hold until she gasped. His lips brushed her ear, voice dripping with obsession.
"You don't rise without me. You don't breathe without me. You don't exist without me."
Her voice cracked. "You can't keep me like this forever."
He forced her chin toward him, his dark eyes blazing.
"You think this is keeping you?" His whisper was a promise and a curse. "No, Aayat. This is owning. You are mine, body and soul. Say no to me, and I'll break the word from your lips until you forget what it means."
Tears stung her eyes, but he kissed her forehead, then her cheeks, one by one, like sacred marks of possession.
"You've already lost, Aayat. Your heart beats inside my fist. And I will never let it go."
Finally, he let her shift, not out of mercy, but to watch her tremble as she rose. His voice followed her like a shadow.
"Run, if you dare. But know this—every step away drags you twice as deep into me."
---
BREAKFAST
The dining hall shimmered under crystal chandeliers. Silver trays of delicacies lined the long table. Rajmata sat regally, Rajveer and his bride whispered sweet nothings, and the air buzzed with celebration.
Aayat lowered her eyes, taking the seat beside Anirudh. Just as she reached for her spoon, his hand slid beneath the table and clamped over hers.
Her breath caught. She looked at him, but his face was a mask of calm as he leisurely cut into his food. Only the steel of his grip betrayed the storm beneath.
She tried to pull away. His thumb stroked her palm in slow, dangerous circles.
Helpless, she switched the spoon to her left hand, awkwardly bringing food to her lips.
Rajveer's bride let out a mischievous giggle. "Bhabhi ji… eating with your left hand? That's unusual."
Rajmata arched a brow, her smirk sharp. "Not unusual. A woman eats with her left hand only when her right is already… occupied."
Laughter burst around the table. Rajveer added slyly, "Our Anirudh bhaiya, who never shares a seat, a drink, or a breath with anyone—seems he's sharing quite a lot with his queen."
Aayat's face flamed crimson. She tugged desperately at her trapped hand, but Anirudh leaned toward her, lips brushing her ear.
"Let them laugh," he murmured darkly. "They only speak the truth. And I will never let you go."
He squeezed until she nearly dropped the spoon, his eyes never leaving hers. Every chuckle around the table stabbed her deeper, humiliation burning her cheeks—yet beneath it, a shiver of something darker coiled in her stomach.
He held her hand until the very last dish was cleared, as if to brand the family's laughter into her memory forever.
---
AFTERNOON
The palace had grown hushed by late afternoon. Aayat wandered the endless corridors, restless, when she saw him.
At the far end of the hall, Anirudh strode with lethal purpose, his phone pressed to his ear.
"Keep him alive. I'll deal with him myself."
Something in his tone—calm, cruel—snapped the breath in her chest. Against every instinct, her feet followed.
Down a hidden stairwell. Into damp, suffocating air. The stone basement smelled of blood and fear.
She crept closer, heart hammering.
And froze.
In the center knelt the nobleman from the reception, his face beaten beyond recognition. Blood dripped onto the floor. Anirudh's guards stood like statues around him.
And in front of him stood Anirudh—shirtless, knuckles raw, chest heaving like a predator mid-hunt.
"You dared," his voice was ice and fire together. He drove his boot into the man's ribs. A sickening crack echoed. The man wailed.
"You dared let your filthy eyes crawl over my wife?"
The man begged incoherently.
Anirudh crouched, seizing the man's jaw, forcing him to look up. His whisper slithered through the silence.
"She is mine. Not a jewel for greedy eyes. Not a flower for plucking. She is my queen. My possession. My obsession. And I will carve that truth into your flesh."
He slammed the man's head to the floor. Blood smeared across the stone.
"You touched her with your gaze," Anirudh hissed. "So I will take your eyes."
He stood, wiping blood from his knuckles with chilling calm. "Blind him. Then throw him into the forest. Let the beasts decide if he deserves breath."
The man screamed, pleading. Guards dragged him away.
Anirudh stood tall, serene as if he hadn't just ordered mutilation. To him, it was not cruelty—it was justice.
Aayat's world spun. Her nails dug into her lips to stop her scream. Tears blinded her as bile rose in her throat.
She stumbled back, her legs trembling. Then she ran—ran from the basement, from the darkness, from the monster she now knew was her husband.