Hema’s breath was ragged as she ran through the streets, the weight of her bridal lehenga making each step feel heavier. The intricate embroidery and heavy gold borders clung to her legs, slowing her down, but she didn’t stop. She had to see them—one last time. Behind her, Zayden stood still, watching her with dark amusement. The way her slender frame moved, the way the moonlight shimmered on her exposed skin—he took it all in. She was his. Marked. Owned. Yet she was running. a smirk playing on his lips. She’ll return. They all do. Hema’s feet burned as she finally reached her apartment building. The moment she stepped inside, she was met with hushed whispers. Dozens of eyes turned to her, filled with disbelief, shock, and… horror. The sight of her married, with sindoor smeared across her forehead and the mangalsutra hanging heavily against her chest, left everyone frozen. Her mother gasped, clutching her chest. Her daadhi staggered backward. But nothing—nothing—prepared her for
The car ride was silent, except for the sound of Hema’s breathing—uneven, shallow, almost as if she were suffocating under the weight of everything that had happened. She was still clutching her blouse, her delicate fingers fisting the fabric tightly against her chest. Her shoulders trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the turmoil raging inside her.Zayden’s eyes flickered toward her every few seconds, but she didn’t move. She was frozen.The car pulled up to the private airport. The engines of his personal jet roared softly in the distance, waiting for its master.Zayden stepped out, adjusting his cuffs as he turned toward her. She hadn’t moved.Still sitting in the car, still clutching her blouse.His jaw clenched. He didn’t want anyone else seeing her like this.With a sharp exhale, he shrugged off his black coat and leaned down.She didn’t react when he draped it over her shoulders, covering her bare skin.She didn’t react when he gripped her wrist and pulled her out of the
The flight had been suffocating.The silence between them was a battlefield, neither willing to give in. But as the plane landed, Hema’s heart pounded harder. She knew she was stepping into a den of wolves.Zayden dragged her out of the jet with a firm grip on her wrist, not giving her a moment to resist. His mansion loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece that screamed power and bloodstained wealth. But to her, it felt like a prison.The gates swung open as they arrived, and a dozen men stood in formation, as if they had been expecting her.Waiting for her.And then, she saw them.His father.His sister.Mia.Her once sweet, kind smile was gone, replaced by an icy glare that sent a shiver down Hema’s spine.And then, her eyes shifted to the man beside her.Zayden’s father.Her breath hitched.If Zayden was terrifying, his father was something beyond monstrous.His presence alone made the air thick with an invisible force, his dark eyes sharp with calculation.And then, came a voic
The heavy tears rolled down Hema's face as she stood under the cold, unforgiving shower, her expensive bridal attire clung to her drenched body like a dead weight.Hema shivered as she recalled the events of the day. Zayden, the powerful and ruthless businessman, had proposed to her out of the blue, showering her with gifts .As Hema stepped out of the bathroom, she found Zayden lounging on their marital bed, his chiseled chest glistening in the dim light. He was a handsome man, but his beauty was marred by the cruelty that lurked behind his eyes. Hema's heart raced as Zayden's gaze raked over her, his eyes lingering on her wet, clinging clothes. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy.He stood up from his bed and moved to his closet and took a one of her t-shirt and gave her,"Get changed," Zayden commanded, his voice low and dangerous. "And change it here"Hema's eyes widened in shock and outrage. She was not about to strip in front of this man, this monster who h
Hema sat motionless on the rough mattress of the servant’s room, her limbs sore, her mind clouded with exhaustion. The events of the last night haunted her—Zayden’s cruelty and the suffocating weight of her so-called marriage. Her wrists bore faint bruises where he had held her too tightly, and her heart carried scars deeper than any visible wound.She looked down at herself, wearing one of Zayden’s long T-shirts that barely covered her thighs. She felt disgusted.Mia had entered the room earlier, crouching beside her with a smirk. “Ooo… my brother had a big night, huh?” she taunted.Hema clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. How could another woman speak like this? Where was her empathy?Mia tossed her a bundle of old clothes from the closet. “Get ready and make breakfast,” she ordered.Hema didn’t respond. Instead, she reached for the black chain—the mangalsutra—hanging around her neck, a symbol of marriage in her culture. With a swift motion, she ripped it off and
Days blurred into nights, and Hema found herself stuck in an endless cycle of silent suffering. She had lost the will to fight. She had lost the will to live.Mia had dismissed the kitchen maids, forcing Hema to become the full-time cook of the mansion. It wasn’t enough that she was trapped in this house; now, she was expected to serve them, to feed the very people who had destroyed her life.Hema spent her days in the kitchen, mindlessly chopping, stirring, and preparing meals like a lifeless doll. The heat from the stove burned her skin, the weight of exhaustion pressed heavily on her bones, yet she never complained. She never spoke.The kitchen was always stocked with meat—nothing else. No vegetables, no grains, nothing she could eat. Mia had made sure of that. Hema was left with no choice but to cook meals she wouldn’t even touch, her stomach empty as she placed plate after plate in front of them.They would eat while she stood silently at the side, staring at nothing, existing bu
Zayden sat in his darkened room, gripping the empty syringe in his hand. The effects of the drug were long gone, but the dream it had given him lingered like a ghost.It had felt so real.He had seen her as his wife—his Hema. The way she looked at him in that dream, the way she smiled, the way she loved him, it had all felt so perfect.He had held her in his arms. Kissed her forehead as she rocked their child to sleep. He had spent decades in that blissful illusion, only to wake up and find that none of it was real.And worse—she hated him.It enraged him.It terrified him.His fingers trembled as he wiped away a stray tear. He didn’t cry. He wasn’t weak. But the ache in his chest felt unbearable.He needed to see her.When he entered her room, she wasn’t asleep.She lay on the small, hard mattress, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her face void of any emotion. She looked like a ghost. A shadow of the fierce woman she once was.Zayden stood over her, uncertain.For the first time, he di
Hema had barely eaten for days. Her body was weak, her mind slipping between exhaustion and numbness. Every step she took felt heavier than the last, but she refused to let them see her break. Not yet.She was serving food at the dining table when her vision blurred. The edges of her world darkened, the sound of cutlery and conversation fading into a distant hum. She tried to steady herself, gripping the table for support, but her fingers slipped, and before she could react—she collapsed.A loud gasp filled the room. The plates clattered as she hit the cold floor.Mia rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Oh please, she’s just creating a scene.”But Zayden was already on his feet.His chair scraped against the floor as he rushed to her side. Without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms.“Hema,” he murmured, tapping her cheek, but her eyelids barely fluttered.His heart pounded against his ribs. This wasn’t like her. She never showed weakness.Mia was staring at him in shock, watching her
The hospital lights were far too bright for Zayden’s comfort, but nothing about this day was supposed to be comfortable. He paced the hallway outside the operating theater, Ira cradled carefully in his arms. She looked up at him with those curious eyes, still too young to understand why her usually composed father was walking in frantic loops across polished tiles.Across the hall, Mark looked equally stricken. His face was pale, and his fingers drummed nervously on the side of the chair as he watched the double doors of the maternity wing like a man waiting for a verdict.“Mommy will be here soon,” Zayden muttered, adjusting Ira’s blanket answering her,Zayden nodded. “You think Mia’s okay?”“Mia is okay but I am not,” Mark fired back, trying to force a grin but failing. “Mia threatened to castrate me if I faint during delivery. So yeah, my brain is doing backflips.”Just then, the double doors opened.A nurse walked out, pulling off her mask. “Mr. Zayden?”He stepped forward, heartb
He crashed his mouth to hers—hard, needy. Her hands tangled in his hair as he pressed his body against hers, her thighs wrapping around his waist instinctively. His kiss was urgent, deep, the kind that made her forget where she was. He pulled back just enough to yank her top over her head, exposing her soft breasts, nipples already hard.Zayden groaned at the sight of her and buried his face between them. He licked, kissed, nipped—lavishing each breast with slow, deliberate attention. Hema arched into him, her fingers gripping the bedsheet. His mouth worked her expertly, moving from her breasts to her neck, sucking gently, leaving a trail of wet heat down to her belly.By the time he reached between her legs, she was trembling. His fingers teased her clit, slow circles that made her moan into the air. He loved watching her unravel under his touch—loved seeing her lose control.“Zayden…” she gasped, her thighs twitching. “I need you… inside me.”His lips made a curl. “ you are losing y
The drive stretched endlessly, winding through green hills and coastal turns, the golden hue of the sun bathing the road in warmth. Zayden had planned this break meticulously—no calls, no business, no parenting duties. Just Hema and him, for five full days. Their daughter Ira was safely with Mia, and for the first time in over a year, Hema felt… untethered.She sat in the passenger seat, hair loosely tied, her eyes half-lidded as she stared at the moving landscape. The windows were down just enough for the wind to tousle her strands. Zayden glanced at her sideways, and the way her lips parted ever so slightly—it stirred something primal in him.“You know,” he said, reaching over to entwine his fingers with hers, “I’ve been imagining this trip for weeks.”Hema looked over, already smiling. “I can tell. You’ve been grinning like a maniac since we left.”“I just missed having you to myself,” he said, his voice dropping. “No diapers. No meetings. No interruptions.”She giggled. “And what
The following evening, the golden light of sunset poured into the wide windows of the mansion. Ira was curled up peacefully in her little crib beside the cushioned couch, her tiny hands resting near her face, making gentle sleepy sounds as she dreamed. Hema sat cross-legged on the plush rug nearby, brushing out her hair while Zayden sat beside her, lazily scrolling through photos of Ira’s first steps with an affectionate grin plastered on his face.Mia strolled into the room in her usual confident gait, dressed in her casual yet elegant loungewear, holding a small gift box in one hand.“For the little queen,” she said, placing the box near Ira’s crib and kneeling to press a soft kiss on the baby’s forehead. “I still can’t believe she walked. I missed it!”Hema smiled warmly, setting her brush aside. “She’ll walk into your arms next time. Or maybe run.”Mia’s eyes twinkled as she looked at Hema. “She better. I’m planning to bribe her with toys and secrets.”Zayden chuckled, “Spoiling h
The grand mansion buzzed with life as little Ira, now a spirited one-year-old, filled its halls with her infectious laughter. Her tiny hands and knees propelled her swiftly across the marble floors, making her the darling of everyone—from the seasoned housekeepers to Zayden’s meticulous assistant, Mark. Each had succumbed to her charm, their days brightened by her presence.One particular afternoon, Ira’s curiosity led her on an unexpected adventure. The distant sound of raised voices echoed through the corridors, drawing her attention. Recognizing her mother’s voice, she set off, her crawling turning into determined steps as she clung to walls and furniture for support. The babysitter, momentarily distracted, turned to find Ira missing from her side. Panic surged as she began her search, only to spot the child making her way toward the commotion.Inside the master bedroom, tension crackled. Hema stood her ground, arms crossed, eyes blazing with frustration. Zayden, looking remorseful
The grand black gates of the mansion opened slowly, the familiar creak echoing through the long driveway lined with blooming jasmine. The late afternoon sun bathed everything in golden light as Zayden stepped out of the sleek black SUV, carefully cradling Ira in one arm, while holding Hema protectively with the other. Hema’s steps were slower, her body still weak from the birth, but her heart was full—this was a different kind of return. One not born out of pain or escape, but healing.Mia stood at the entrance, wearing a simple beige dress and a soft, rare smile on her face. Her sharp eyes shimmered the moment she spotted Ira. She rushed down the stairs barefoot, arms extended. “There she is—my little angel!” Mia’s voice trembled with emotion.Zayden grinned as he gently passed Ira into her arms. “She missed her aunt, didn’t she, baby?” he murmured, planting a kiss on Hema’s forehead.Hema chuckled softly and nodded. “We named her,” she said, watching Mia’s eager face.“Oh?” Mia rais
Hema lay curled up beside Zayden, her body still sore from the C-section she had just a week ago. Their baby girl, Ira, was sleeping peacefully next to her in a bassinet . Hema and Zayden had been through so much together, and now, with their little family complete, they felt like the luckiest people in the world.Hema caught him staring and gave him a coy smile. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she slowly reached up and unzipping her kurti, exposing one of her full, heavy breasts."Have a taste," she purred seductively, her voice low and inviting. Zayden's breath hitched as he took in the sight of her perfect breast, the nipple already engorged with milk. His cock instantly hardened, straining against his boxers. He swallowed thickly, desire burning in his veins.Zayde arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure, my love?"Hema nodded with a smile,Zayden's eyes darkened with lust. "I'll be gentle. I promise."In one swift movement, he leaned over her, pressing soft kisses along the swel
The tarmac glistened under the late afternoon sun as Zayden led Hema gently toward the sleek, private jet waiting for them. The sound of soft wind mixed with the distant hum of the plane’s engines. Zayden had one arm securely wrapped around Hema’s waist, supporting her as they walked slowly, while the other held baby Ira against his chest with practiced care.Behind them, two of Zayden’s men followed with their luggage, handling everything swiftly without a word. The elderly couple had waved goodbye, tears in their eyes, just a few minutes ago. Now, as they approached the jet’s steps, Zayden helped Hema up first, handing the baby over for a moment so he could lift her easily.“You don’t have to carry me every time,” Hema mumbled, half-blushing, half-teasing as he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.“You say that as if I’m going to stop,” Zayden smirked. “Let me enjoy being your crutch for a while longer.”He helped her to the spacious cabin of the jet, where a luxurious bed had alre
Zayden stood by Hema’s side as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, holding tightly onto his hand. Every step she took was careful, her body still sore, but determined. She didn’t complain. Her grip on his hand tightened whenever the pain in her abdomen throbbed, but she said nothing—only looked ahead, her face slightly pale but strong.Zayden, ever watchful, didn’t take his eyes off her for even a second.“You don’t have to push yourself,” he said gently, adjusting his arm around her waist.“I’m not pushing,” she whispered. “I just want to feel normal again.”Zayden chuckled softly.They reached the end of the hallway, and Hema paused near the window, looking outside at the golden morning sun spreading across the hospital lawn. She took a breath, soaking in the warmth. But the next moment, her knees buckled slightly.“Hema!” Zayden immediately pulled her close.She didn’t fall. She collapsed forward—right into his chest, her forehead resting just above his heart. Her a