Chapter 2

F L A S H B A C K

"What's happening, Jonathan? Why are you crying like this?" I asked as soon as I stepped into the house, panic rising at the sight of my brother in tears. "I'm scared, Steve. He'll kill me... He'll kill me," Jonathan whispered, his voice trembling as tears streamed down his face. "Who? Who are you talking about?" I demanded, gripping his shoulders firmly, my heart pounding with dread. "He's after me. Stevenson... Stevenson Bale," Jonathan stammered, his wide, tearful eyes brimming with terror. The name hit me like a blow, and my stomach dropped. "How do you know Stevenson Bale? Why would he want to hurt you?" I pressed, my voice cracking as anxiety clawed at my chest. Jonathan's sobs grew louder, his words choked as he finally blurted out, "His sister... She's in my class. She... she tried to take her own life." I froze, my hand flying to my mouth in shock. Fear and confusion swirled inside me. "Stevenson's sister... tried to take her life?" I muttered, the weight of the revelation sinking in. Jonathan clung to me desperately, his tearful voice pleading, "I've been framed, Steve. I didn't do anything wrong, but Stevenson won't listen. He won't let me go. Please, save me. I don't want to die." My heart broke seeing my little brother so vulnerable, trembling in fear. Wrapping my arms around him, I pulled him close, holding him tightly as his sobs wracked his small frame. "Bachhe, calm down," I whispered, my own voice shaking as tears burned my eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise. Stevenson won't hurt you."

E N D O F F L A S H B A C K

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, waking me instantly. The thought of going home filled me with such excitement that I hadn't slept a wink. All night, I tossed and turned on the miserable bed, its loud creaks mocking my restlessness. After a refreshing shower, wrapped in a towel, I walked to the cupboard. I opened it, my eyes scanning the neatly arranged long gowns. None of them were mine-just a collection of bland long gowns the staff had stocked the first day I arrived. My forced marriage hadn't left me time to pack, and Stevenson had ensured my life here would lack any trace of comfort or individuality. "What should I wear?" I mumbled, rummaging through the pile. I finally settled on a light pink long gown paired with a full-sleeved blouse. It wasn't flashy, but it would do the job. I needed to hide the burn on my hand from yesterday-a gift from Stevenson. It was small, but my mother's sharp eyes would notice it instantly. Once dressed, I applied light makeup and grabbed my purse, eager to leave. Walking through the living room, my excitement faltered as a chill ran down my spine. A familiar wave of dread washed over me. Could he still be here? I shook off the thought. No, he must've left for the office. "My lovely wife," came his cold, mocking voice from behind, freezing me mid-step. I turned, my heart sinking, to see Stevenson seated on the sofa, his laptop balanced on his thigh. His eyes locked on mine as he gestured for me to come closer. The room seemed to shrink around me, suffocating me with his presence. Trembling, I obeyed. Before I could take more than a few steps, his voice lashed out like a whip. "Fast!" The force of his command sent a jolt through me. My heart raced as I hurried to stand before him, my gaze fixed on the floor, unable to meet his piercing stare. He didn't speak. His eyes roamed over me, scrutinizing every detail. Gathering my courage, I glanced up at him briefly. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw admiration flicker in his gaze, but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by cold hatred. I looked down again, swallowing the lump in my throat. Stevenson set his laptop aside and stood, towering over me. Slowly, he began circling me, his movements deliberate, his presence predatory. Stopping in front of me, he reached out and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Which lover are you getting all dressed up for?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom. His words hit like a slap, leaving me stunned. My eyes widened as I tried to comprehend the accusation. "I asked you something," he snapped, his grip tightening. The pressure was almost unbearable, his nails digging into my skin. Tears filled my eyes, spilling over as I stammered, "I... I'm just going to visit my mother." My voice trembled, every word heavy with fear. "Uniform!" Stevenson barked. A maid appeared instantly, handing him a brown long gown-the uniform all the staff wore. Including me. Stevenson snatched it from her hands, his fury radiating off him in waves. "Everyone out!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the tense air. The maids fled, leaving me alone with him. He released my chin, and I flinched at the lingering pain. Without warning, he threw the uniform at me. It hit my chest and fell to the floor. "Strip," he ordered, his voice cold and emotionless. I froze, his command echoing in my ears. My body trembled as I struggled to process his words. "Did you hear me?" he demanded, stepping closer. Tears stopped flowing, replaced by a numbness that settled over me like a shroud. Every day in this house was a new form of torment. My hands moved mechanically, reaching for my pallu. Slowly, I began to undo my long gown. The fabric slipped to the floor, leaving me exposed in the cruel silence. My dignity lay shattered at my feet. With trembling hands, I reached for the uniform and began to put it on. Stevenson's gaze never left me. His eyes burned with a mix of hatred and twisted satisfaction, stripping away what little strength I had left. It wasn't just my body he humiliated-it was my soul. Once I was dressed, he turned sharply and walked toward the main door. Panic seized me. No. This can't be happening. He can't come with me. "Move," he barked, snapping me out of my thoughts. Reluctantly, I followed him outside. As I climbed into the passenger seat of the car, he settled into the back, silent and brooding. The drive was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension. When my family home came into view, my chest tightened. If Stevenson misbehaved or let his cruelty slip, my mother would uncover the truth about this nightmare of a marriage. I quickly wiped my face with my pallu, erasing any trace of tears. The car came to a stop, and I stepped out, my legs unsteady beneath me. Stevenson followed, his sharp gaze pinning me in place. "Sharp at 5 PM," he said, his voice low and menacing. "If you're even a second late, you know what will happen." I lowered my head, my voice barely audible. "Yes, sir." Without another word, he got back into the car and drove away. Standing there, I took a shaky breath, the weight of his presence still lingering. Despite the torment, a glimmer of joy sparked in my chest. I was finally home. Finally, I would see my family.