Author's pov-

A man in a black coat pulled the girl hard. She was wearing a sky-blue anarkali that looked out of place as he dragged her across the floor. He was furious, his temper ready to explode like a volcano. He yanked her roughly toward the stairs, and she shook with fear. She knew his true nature all too well, and she knew there was no point in fighting back. His grip on her arm was tight and painful, leaving her no way to escape.

He dragged her through the empty corridor until they stopped in front of a big, heavy door. He pushed it open forcefully and yanked her inside. Once he was in, he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

The girl fell to the floor with a hard thud. As she hit the ground, her glass bangles struck the floor with a sharp click, and the force shattered them into pieces. The sound of breaking glass echoed in the silent room, but it was nothing compared to the fear rising in her chest.

The man towered over her, his shadow falling across her small, trembling form. She didn't dare to look up. She clutched her wrist, where a sharp piece of a broken bangle had dug deep into her skin.

"What was that?" he hissed, each word dripping with venom. "What did I tell you about going out without my permission?"

He crouched down in front of her, forcing her to meet his cold, angry gaze.

She couldn't hold his gaze, so she quickly looked down again. But he wasn't finished. His hand shot out, sneaking behind her neck. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.

"Look... at... me," he growled, spitting out each word.

She gasped at the sharp pain in her scalp, her eyes already swimming with large, fat tears.

"Ma-af... kar-di-jiye..." (Forgive me)she choked out, her voice barely a whisper as it broke under the pressure. She could hardly breathe with his hand still locked in her hair, her neck straining painfully against his grip. "Woh... orphan-age se... unka call aaya tha-"(I got a call of them from orphanage-)

Before she could finish her sentence, his eyes darkened further. He cut her off with a sharp, cold snap.

"Did I say you could explain?"

The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. She froze, her breath hitching in her throat as she realized that any words she chose would only make his rage worse. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, a desperate attempt to block out his terrifying presence, but his hand tightened, pulling her hair even harder and forcing her head back until her throat was completely exposed. She had no choice. She was trapped, trembling, and completely at his mercy.

"Didn't I forbid you to go there?" he hissed, his voice so low and sharp it felt like a blade scraping against her skin. "Huh?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, his fingers coiled tighter into the roots of her hair, the skin of her scalp screaming in protest. He shook her slightly, a rough, calculated movement that forced her chin to tilt even further upward.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he commanded, his voice vibrating with a dangerous, barely contained fury.

She felt the heat of his breath against her face, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Her entire body was locked in a cycle of involuntary shudders. She was terrified of what she would find in his eyes,not just anger, but the cold, possessive warning that she was his, and that every step she took without his leave was a transgression against his authority.

The air in the room felt thin, stolen away by his overwhelming presence. She was cornered, her wrist throbbing from the broken glass, her neck aching from his iron grip, and her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Every instinct screamed at her to look away, to hide from the intensity of his focus, but his hand was an unyielding anchor, ensuring she had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, and no hope of escaping his scrutiny.

"Should I remind you of the punishment I gave you last time, huh?" he breathed, his voice dropping into a dangerously smooth, quiet tone that was far worse than shouting. He leaned in closer, his thumb tracing a threatening line along her jaw, forcing her to focus entirely on him.

"Tell me," he demanded, his eyes narrowing as he waited for a response. "Tell me, Tishna."

Tishna felt her pulse race until her head throbbed. The memory of that last punishment surged forward, flooding her mind with flashes of fear that made her tremble even harder. She could feel his gaze burning into her, demanding not just an apology, but a full admission of her mistake. The room felt like it was shrinking, the walls closing in on them, leaving her with nowhere to turn. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her throat, strangled by the sheer terror of what he might do next. She was paralyzed, held captive by his touch and the dark expectation in his eyes.

Suddenly, he released her hair with such abruptness that her head snapped forward. "Stand up," he growled, his voice cold and commanding. "I said stand!"

When she didn't obey immediately,her limbs stiff with lingering shock and pain,he didn't hesitate. He reached down and yanked her up by her arm, hauling her to her feet with a brutal lack of care. Without a moment's pause, he dragged her across the room and into the walk-in closet.

He forced her to stand directly in front of the large, floor-to-ceiling wall mirror. He stepped in close behind her, his looming figure casting a long, dark shadow over her small frame. In the glass, their reflections told a harrowing story: her disheveled state, the tear-streaked skin, and the raw fear in her eyes, contrasted against his rigid posture and the absolute, burning intensity in his gaze. He didn't look at her directly, choosing instead to stare at her reflection, his eyes scanning her trembling form with a possessive, predatory fire that made her feel more exposed than if he had been touching her.

"Look at yourself," he whispered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of her ear. The intimacy of the gesture felt like a violation. "Look at that thing... the one who belongs only to me."

He kept his gaze fixed on their reflections in the mirror, his dark eyes tracing the way she shivered under his shadow. "Tishna... it has been fucking two months since our marriage, yet you still haven't learned your place."

His fingers began to fumble with the delicate strings at the back of her anarkali. With each knot he unfastened, her terror spiked, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches.

"Sh-iv... Ra-j..." she stammered, her voice thin and desperate, hoping to appease him with his name. "Shi-v-ra-j... j-i..."

He didn't let her finish. With a low, savage growl, he cut her off by sinking his teeth into the soft skin of her shoulder blade. The sudden jolt of pain ripped a sharp gasp from her lips, her hands flying up to grip the frame of the vanity as her knees buckled beneath the weight of his cruelty.

Tishna’s composure shattered, and she began sobbing hysterically, her body racking with uncontrollable tremors. "Please... mat kariye (please don't do this)... please... I'm sorry... I won't disobey you again... please!"

He completely ignored her pleas. His expression remained cold and unreadable, his fingers steadily continuing their work on the ties of her anarkali. The sound of the fabric loosening was the only thing louder than her desperate cries.

"Sh-iv-ra-j... ji... please..." she whimpered, her voice breaking under the weight of her helplessness.

He didn't flinch. Every one of her desperate petitions for mercy seemed only to fuel his determination, his cold focus never once shifting from their reflections in the mirror. He was savoring her panic, and with every knot he pulled apart, he made it clear that her world, her choices, and even her very dignity belonged entirely to him.

She stared into the mirror, but her reflection blurred as her mind was violently pulled back to that nightmare two months ago.

Flashback

The air in the room had been thick with the smell of smoke and impending death.

"Tell me..." Shivraj had said, his voice terrifyingly calm. A cigarette dangled loosely between his fingers, while his other hand held a heavy gun. He wasn't aiming it at her; the cold, black barrel was pressed casually against the forehead of a tiny baby girl-barely a year old-who was fast asleep on his lap.

The people around them were frozen, their faces pale with pure terror, but Shivraj didn't seem to notice them. He only had eyes for her.

"Don't even think that refusing me means I’ll just walk away," he had whispered, his eyes narrowing. "If you say no, I’ll pull the trigger. And after she’s gone..." He paused, his gaze drifting around the room, eyeing the wooden beams and playpens with a chilling, critical focus. "I will burn this entire orphanage to ashes, with every single one of them inside."

She clutched at the edge of the table, her knuckles white, as the tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" she sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of her desperation. "Why are you doing all this? What do you want from me?"

Shivraj didn't answer immediately. He took a long, slow drag of his cigarette, his eyes never leaving hers. He tilted his head back, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke toward the ceiling, looking entirely unbothered by the life hanging in the balance on his lap.

Beside him, his assistant stood like a statue, holding another gun with a casual, practiced ease,ready to use it at the slightest command.

The assistant stepped forward, his expression cold and devoid of pity. "Because," he said, his voice echoing in the tense silence, "you dared to step in Sarkar’s (Shivraj's) way."

"Monsters... you’re all monsters..." she whispered, the words trembling as they left her lips like a curse.

The air in the room instantly curdled. Shivraj’s jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles bulged. Without breaking eye contact with her, he reached down, scooped the sleeping baby from his lap, and shoved her toward his assistant. As the assistant took the child, Shivraj stepped toward Tishna, his shadow engulfing her.

"What did you say?" he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. "Monster? We are the monsters?"

He suddenly threw his head back and began to laugh,a loud, harsh sound that held no mirth. "Yes... you’re right, little bitc-"

Before he could finish the slur, a blur of movement cut through the air. A sharp, stinging crack echoed through the room as Tishna’s small hand struck him hard across the cheek.

The memories shattered as quickly as they had arrived. Tishna was jolted back to the present,back to the cold, air-conditioned silence of the closet,by the sudden sensation of something wet trailing down her newly exposed back.

She gasped, her body arching instinctively. It was Shivraj. He had leaned in, his lips pressed against the bare skin of her shoulder blade, trailing a path of hot, damp kisses that felt like a brand of ownership. The heat of his breath and the moisture against her skin were a stark contrast to the icy, paralyzing terror in her heart.

The flashback to that day,the gun, the baby, the threat,clashed violently with the reality of his touch right now. She realized with a sickening jolt that nothing had changed. The monster who had held a gun to a child's head to force her into this marriage was the same man standing behind her now, claiming her as his possession.

He didn't move away; instead, his hands tightened on the fabric of her anarkali, pulling it further down, pinning her against the mirror so she couldn't move, couldn't run, and couldn't hide from the reflection of her own helplessness.

That single, desperate slap,the only mistake she had ever dared to make,was the root of everything. It was the moment that had brought her to this point. That strike had awakened a beast, turning that entire day and the long, agonizing night that followed into a permanent, waking nightmare.

With a brutal, tearing sound, he ripped the remainder of her anarkali away. The fabric gave way beneath his fingers, leaving her stumbling forward from the sudden loss of resistance. Now, she was trapped in the narrow space between the cold surface of the mirror and the looming heat of his body, exposed and vulnerable in nothing but her innerwear.

He didn't speak. He didn't have to. The silence in the closet was heavy with his triumph. He was no longer just the man who had threatened her; he was the man who had systematically broken her, piece by piece, until she was left with nothing but the terrified reflection staring back at her in the glass.

He spun her around, forcing her to face him at last. With a rough, iron grip, he seized her hips and hoisted her up, seating her onto the marble surface of the vanity. He stepped into the space between her legs, effectively caging her within his reach.

His movements were cold and practiced, devoid of any hesitation. He unclasped her bra with a sharp, trained flick of his fingers, the fabric falling away instantly. Before she could even process the exposure, he reached for her underwear and ripped them away with a violent tug, the sound of tearing lace echoing harshly in the confined space of the closet.

"Sh-iv-ra-j... ji..." she sobbed, her voice trembling and broken, each breath a struggle. "Please... don't do... this. I... I am already... so sore from... last night. Please, I... I can't take..."

Her words died in her throat as she looked down at him. Shivraj didn't show a flicker of empathy. Instead, he looked up at her, his eyes cold and dark with a terrifying intensity. A cruel, thin smile touched his lips as he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

"Good," he whispered, his voice dangerously low and devoid of mercy. "It is good that you're sore. It means you remember exactly what happens when you disobey me."

He stepped back, shrugging off his heavy black coat and tossing it carelessly to the floor. His movements were jagged and frantic as he began to aggressively unbutton his shirt, his eyes locked onto hers with a predator’s focus. Tishna watched, her throat tightening, a hard, painful gulp catching in her chest as he shed his clothes until he stood completely naked before her.

He didn't hesitate. He stepped back into the space between her legs, forcing them wider apart with his own.

"Shiv-"

Her protest was cut short before it could fully form. With a single, sharp motion, he thrust his fingers deep inside her, the invasion sudden and agonizing. At the same time, his other hand clamped down on her nipple, twisting the sensitive skin with a calculated, biting force. Tishna’s back arched, a sharp, ragged scream caught in her throat as the dual assault of pain left her shaking uncontrollably.

He began to move his fingers inside her with a brutal, rhythmic force, not seeking anything but pain. He twisted his hand sharply, the motion jagged and invasive, wiggling and curling his fingers against her most sensitive nerves to ensure her agony.

Tishna bit her lip until she tasted copper, trying to stifle the cries that wanted to escape, but the torment was relentless. He wasn't just touching her; he was tearing through her defenses, his movements calculated to inflict the maximum amount of hurt. She was trapped in a cycle of sharp, stinging sensations, her body jerking against his hand while he stood over her, his expression a mask of cold, unrelenting dominance.

She tried to push against his chest, her hands trembling as she sought to shield herself from his onslaught, but he was faster. With a predatory lunge, he captured her mouth, sealing her lips beneath his own.

It wasn't a kiss; it was a conquest. He sucked at her lips, his teeth grazing and biting the soft flesh until she tasted the metallic tang of blood. He drove her head back against the vanity mirror, the cold glass sending a shiver through her spine that was immediately countered by the searing heat of his mouth. He deepened the contact with a suffocating intensity, forcing her to swallow her own whimpers as his fingers continued their brutal, rhythmic torment within her.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against her bruised mouth, his voice a low, raspy growl. "Scream, Tishna. I want to hear you admit it. Tell me who you belong to."

She was drowning in it,the sensation of his fingers tearing through her, the crushing weight of his body against hers, and the dark, possessive hunger in his eyes. Every time she tried to turn away, he would seize her jaw with his free hand, forcing her to endure his demanding, bruising kisses. He was dismantling her piece by piece, ensuring that every nerve ending in her body was singing with pain and the overwhelming, terrifying reality of his absolute ownership.

She couldn't speak; her lungs were burning, robbed of air by his relentless assault on her senses. The world had narrowed down to the friction of his hand and the crushing pressure of his mouth.

He didn't wait for an answer. He seemed to take her silence as a challenge, his movements accelerating, his fingers curling and pressing with a predatory hunger that pushed her to the very edge of endurance. He pulled his mouth away only to trail hot, agonizing bites down the column of her throat, leaving dark, blooming marks against her pale skin.

"I don't hear you," he growled, his breath ragged against her collarbone as he reached up to twist her hair, forcing her head back further until her neck was completely exposed to his cruelty. "Say it, Tishna. Say you’re nothing but a doll for me to break and mend however I please."

Tishna’s body betrayed her. Despite the pain, the sheer intensity of his control ignited a terrifying, involuntary spark of sensation that made her loathe herself. She let out a broken, jagged sound,part sob, part gasp,that echoed off the closet walls.

He paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark, triumphant light as he watched her reaction. He leaned in, his voice a lethal, velvet whisper against her ear. "There it is. That sound... that’s the sound of a woman who finally knows her place."

He didn't offer her comfort; instead, he resumed his assault with even more vigor, determined to break her spirit until there was nothing left of the woman who had dared to slap him. Every movement was a cold, calculated lesson, a dark symphony of pain and possession designed to ensure that she would never, ever dream of defying him again.

After a few minutes of relentless, punishing rhythm, he pulled his hand away. Tishna gasped, her body shuddering as she hoped for even a momentary reprieve, but the relief was short-lived. With a sharp, sudden movement, he replaced his fingers with himself, driving into her in one seamless, forceful thrust.

The sheer size and intrusion of him stole the breath from her lungs. She let out a strangled cry, her fingernails digging deep into the wooden edge of the vanity, leaving white marks on her knuckles. The transition was agonizing; her body felt like it was being split apart, yet he didn't offer her a single second to adjust.

He didn't wait for her muscles to yield. He began to move immediately, his hips grinding against hers with a heavy, deliberate friction that left her reeling. Every thrust was calculated, designed to leave her breathless and trembling. He held her waist with crushing force, his hands leaving bruises on her skin as he anchored her to the spot, forcing her to bear the full brunt of his dominance.

In the reflection of the mirror behind her,Tishna saw the stark reality of it: her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears, her hair a chaotic tangle around her face, and behind her, the dark, intense gaze of the man who was systematically erasing every trace of her defiance. He leaned down, his chin resting on her shoulder as he moved, his voice a low, vibrating hum against