The hospital discharge papers hadn’t even dried when the black SUV pulled up at the back entrance.
No warning.
No goodbye.
No choice.
One nurse handed me a bag of medicines, the other placed the baby carrier in my lap. The baby was asleep, wrapped in a pale blue blanket that still smelled like hospital soap and loss.
I didn’t ask where we were going.
I already knew.
Rudra’s world.
His rules.
His prison disguised in marble.
Two hours later
The iron gates creaked open like something out of a horror movie.
The car rolled into a driveway that looked more like a palace entrance than a house. White stone pillars. Massive wooden doors. Guard dogs. Cameras.
And silence.
The kind of silence that made your chest hurt.
I stepped out, holding the baby close, my legs wobbling like jelly. My hospital slippers scraped the marble. My hands were shaking so bad, I thought I’d drop him.
A house staff member took my duffel bag.
No one smiled.
No one spoke.
They just stared like I was the intruder who killed their queen.
Like I didn’t belong.
And maybe I didn’t.
Inside
Everything was too big. Too cold. Too grand.
Gold ceilings. Velvet curtains. Chandeliers that looked older than me.
And Rudra.
Standing near the staircase, dressed in black, eyes unreadable.
He didn’t even look at me.
Just the baby.
“His room is upstairs,” he said curtly. “Next to mine.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“You’ll stay in the room beside his. You’ll feed him, bathe him, change him. My staff will assist, but you don’t leave the floor without my permission.”
“Rudra—”
“Sir,” he cut me off sharply. “You don’t get to call me by my name anymore.”
I looked at him, my lips parting.
He didn’t care.
He turned away and walked up the stairs like he hadn’t just crushed whatever was left of me.
That night
The baby cried.
I held him against my chest, shushing him softly, rocking side to side in the dim-lit nursery.
I hadn’t eaten all day.
I hadn’t cried either.
I think I was too tired to.
The room was beautiful—sky blue walls, white furniture, soft rugs—but it didn’t feel like a baby’s room.
It felt like a dollhouse.
Perfect from the outside. Empty inside.
Just like me.
I sat down in the rocking chair, still in my hospital gown, feeding the baby quietly when I heard the door open.
I didn’t look up.
I didn’t need to.
Him.
He said nothing for a long time.
Just stood there.
Watching me like I was some puzzle he hated but couldn’t stop trying to solve.
“You’re still here,” he said finally.
I didn’t reply.
“You could’ve run.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
A beat.
Then—
“Good.”
I flinched.
“I want you to remember that every time you think about leaving,” he added, voice low. “You have nothing. No one. Except him.”
He walked closer. Too close. His presence filled the room like smoke.
“And me.”
I finally looked up.
There was no softness in his eyes. No pity. No warmth.
Only obsession.
And rage.
And control.
YOU ARE READING
Only His✔️
RomanceI thought monsters lived in nightmares. Then I met him. Rudra is powerful, feared, and impossible to defy. When he took me into his mansion, I thought it was to save me. I was wrong. His kindness hides chains. His touch burns like fire and freezes l...
