The wedding hall was still alive with music and laughter, completely unaware of the silent upheaval of Abinaya's fate.
The groom had finally arrived. With her father in the hospital, her mother had taken his place, explaining the sudden situation. Arjun simply nodded, his expression cold, unreadable, indifferent. There was no sympathy, no small talk—only a chilling calm that made Abinaya shiver.
The rituals were completed quickly, superficially, as though the world were pretending everything was normal. Further celebrations were canceled—the bride's father was in the hospital, after all.
By the time Abinaya and Arjun left for the hospital, darkness had begun to settle over the city. The hospital visit was tense; her father lay weak but alive, and Abinaya felt a pang of guilt and fear gnawing at her.
Later, Arjun led her to his house—a grand, imposing building that reflected the man himself: rigid, structured, and intimidating. He walked her through the rooms, showing her the house, before finally stopping at the bedroom.
"I'll take a shower. Familiarize yourself with the room," he said, voice firm.
Abinaya nodded and went to the bathroom, changing into a simple violet saree she had brought from home. She didn't pleat it on her shoulder; it hung loosely, unpretentious, almost vulnerable.
When she returned, the room was empty. She sank onto the bed and closed her eyes, hoping for a moment of quiet.
Minutes later, the sound of the door locking made her eyes snap open. Before she could react, he was there—his arms around her.
"What… What are you doing?" she gasped, pushing him gently, panic rising in her chest.
Arjun smirked, his dark gaze locked on hers. "It's our first night. What do you think I'm doing?"
Her hands instinctively raised, a small, defensive barrier—like a frightened kitten. It only seemed to amuse him.
"Don't tell me," he murmured, leaning closer, "you still think you don't know anything at this age? Even so… your mother should've told you before you came here, what to do… and what not to do… when your husband approaches."
Abinaya's cheeks burned red. He had mentioned her mother… the very thing her mother had warned her about. She had hoped he would give her time, patience. She hadn't expected him to act so boldly, so quickly. She was truly scared.
"Do you know what to do when your husband traps you in his arms like this?" he asked, his voice low, commanding.
Abinaya froze.
Before she could respond, his lips pressed against hers. Shock and fear made her eyes widen, her body stiffen. When he pulled back slightly, he asked, almost teasingly, "Do you know what to do when your husband kisses you like this?"
Her eyes reddened. She turned her face, tears silently falling down her cheeks.
"I didn't force you," he said quietly, almost softly, "you volunteered to marry me. So stop overreacting."
As his voice faded into the quiet room, only her shouts and silent cries remained—a lonely, raw echo of the night she had not anticipated.
When everything was over, Arjun's gaze fell on the woman trembling on the bed, her hands clutching at the tattered folds of her saree as she tried to cover herself. Tears streaked her cheeks, her chest heaving with quiet sobs.
A slow, cold smirk spread across his face.
"Who are you acting for?" he asked, his voice sharp and cutting through the silence. "As if it were your first time."
Abinaya flinched, her hands tightening around the saree.
"When your family decided to marry you instead of your sister, I thought… I thought you were an obedient, homely girl," he continued, stepping closer, his eyes piercing. "Who knew… you're nothing more than a convenience. A beautiful little convenience. But I have to admit…"
He paused, his smirk widening, and his gaze locked on her, cold and unyielding.
"Your family… they've raised you well."
Her body froze, her heart pounding. The words were like ice against her skin, sharp and unforgiving. In that moment, she realized the kind of man she had married.
That was when Abinaya snapped.
"Don't talk about my family!" she shouted, her voice hoarse but defiant.
Arjun raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh?" he said slowly. "You still have energy left."
After that, only her cries filled the room.
By the time dawn broke, pale light slipping through the curtains, Arjun finally stepped away. Perhaps it was exhaustion—or perhaps boredom—but he allowed her a brief, broken rest.
Morning arrived far too soon.
The moment Abinaya stirred, a violent shiver ran through her body. Her eyes flew open, panic flooding her veins. Instinctively, she looked down at herself.
She was naked.
With a sharp gasp, she pulled the blanket around her, clutching it as though it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Her heart pounded wildly.
The bathroom door opened.
Arjun walked out, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his hair. The sight of him made her blood run cold.
Memories of the night crashed into her mind. Her face drained of color.
He wasn't human.
He was a devil.
Noticing that she was awake, Arjun spoke casually, as though nothing unusual had happened.
"Freshen up and wear something decent," he said. "There are five brothers in this house. Don't embarrass yourself as their elder sister-in-law."
Abinaya's fingers trembled beneath the blanket.
"Oh—and think of an answer," he added coolly. "Why you cried and shouted last night. This room isn't soundproof."
Her breath hitched.
"Akil and Amal are still young," Arjun continued, his tone sharp and deliberate. "They're curious about everything."
Slowly, Abinaya lifted her head and glared at him, hatred burning through her fear.
"Why didn't you think about that last night?" she demanded.
Arjun's lips curved into a cruel smile.
"Because it wouldn't have been fun," he replied. "And now…" His eyes darkened. "I'm curious to hear what excuse you'll come up with."
Abinaya said nothing.
Crooked pervert! She cursed him in her mind.