Part 12: The Rules of the House
The chandelier above flickered, casting fractured shadows across the long table. Silver cutlery gleamed, untouched. The air was too still, too thick—like the mansion itself was holding its breath.
Aarush's eyes were red. He looked at kabir.
Bhuvanya sat stiff at the far end, the fork trembling in her hand. Every second stretched, heavy and sharp.
Then Aarush's voice cut through the silence. Calm. Controlled. Deadly.
"It's time you learned how this house works."
Her throat tightened.
Aarush leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "There are rules, Bhuvanya. Break them, and the consequences will remind you where you belong."
He lifted one finger.
"Rule one—you don't eat until I give you permission or the food will not give you for a week."
Bhuvanya froze. Her half-raised fork lowered back to the plate.
A second finger.
"Rule two—you don't look at my brothers unless I tell you to. Your eyes stay down. Always not even raise your eyes in front of me and my dad."
Her chest heaved, rage colliding with fear.
A third finger.
"Rule three—when I ask you a question, you answer. When I give you an order, you obey, follow what I said. No hesitation. No excuses."
The smirk returned, curling slow, merciless. "And rule four—whatever happens in this house, stays in this house. You don't cry for help. You don't run. You don't dream of rescue."
The silence after his words was suffocating.
Bhuvanya's nails dug into her palm under the table. Her voice, hoarse but unyielding, cracked through the air:
"I'm not your puppet."
Kabir laughed—low, sharp, dangerous. He leaned forward, his bare chest illuminated by the chandelier. "Not yet. But I'd enjoy watching you try to resist while starving."
He reached for a grape, popped it into his mouth, and chewed slowly, eyes locked on her. "Want one?" he teased, holding another between his fingers and dangling it just above her plate. "Go on. Break rule one."
Her stomach twisted painfully, but she didn't move.
Kabir's grin widened. He leaned closer across the table, voice dropping to a sultry whisper:
"Obedience doesn't always taste bitter, doll. Sometimes it tastes sweet. You just need someone to… feed it to you."
Bhuvanya's breath hitched.
Aarush's hand slammed against the table, the crack like a gunshot. Both she and Kabir froze. Aarush's eyes burned into her, cold and merciless.
"Repeat them," Aarush ordered.
Her chest heaved. She didn't move.
"Repeat. The rules."
Bhuvanya clenched her jaw so tight it hurt. Slowly, through gritted teeth, she forced the words out. Each one scraped her throat like glass.
"I… don't eat until you give permission. I… don't look at your brothers. I answer when asked. I obey when ordered. And… nothing leaves this house."
Aarush leaned back, satisfied. "Good girl."
Kabir smirked, biting into the grape he'd teased her with. "Not bad. But I'll be here… waiting for you to slip."
Across the table, Arav finally looked up. His eyes—calm, unreadable—rested on her longer than they should have. He said nothing