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The soft glow of dawn barely touched the horizon as Ekaksh led Shanaya to the airport. It was only five in the morning, and though every part of her wanted to resist, to fight, she was far too drained, emotionally and physically both.Each step felt heavy, not just from the weariness of her aching body, but from the weight of everything she had been forced to endure. His threats toward her family weighed heavily on her, breaking what little strength she had left. Shanaya knew this man was dangerous, crazed, and wielded immense power. He could make good on his threats, and she had no energy left to challenge him. Clad in a red suit, her face swollen from endless tears, she was a vision of fragile beauty under the morning light.
The red suit, a symbol of tradition, clung to her lifelessly, contrasting the radiant morning light, though she felt anything but radiant. Her face was swollen from all the tears she had shed, her eyes dull and tired. She had cried for her stolen freedom, for her shattered dreams, and for the heartache that clawed at her every second. The man who now stood beside her, Ekaksh, was a constant reminder of the chains that bound her.
And yet, as he glanced at her, his breath hitched. There she was, the woman who had consumed his every waking thought. Dressed in red, the color of his deepest desires. The color red had always represented something different to him, the color of blood, the aftermath of his enemies. But today, seeing her bathed in that same hue made him forget all about the violence that usually occupied his mind. His gaze fixed her, trying to grasp the reality that this woman, once just the object of his obsession was now his wife. And with that realization came something unexpected: the need to protect her. She was no longer just a symbol of his dark desires; she was his, and the world he lived in was full of monsters ready to attack anything he adorn
she looked fragile, yet undeniably his.
His obsession with her had only grown stronger with each passing moment. Seeing her there, broken yet stunning, only fueled the madness inside him. His world, which had been built on power, control, and ruthless dominance, now centered entirely around her. She was no longer just an obsession-
she was his, his wife, his possession.
Taking her hand, though she resisted weakly, he led her toward his private jet. Shanaya wasn't surprised; if anything, she would have been shocked had he chosen a commercial flight. She even thought for a moment of taunting him for his arrogance, but the words remained locked inside. How desperately she wished she could break through his unyielding pride, to make him feel, to make him see the wreckage he'd caused.
When they reached the jet, he led her inside, ignoring her quiet resistance. Shanaya, though numb, couldn't help but muster the smallest defiance. "I'm not a child," she muttered in irritation, but he dismissed her words, his mind too focused on getting her where he wanted her to be, by his side.
They settled into their seats, side by side, despite Shanaya's desire to sit anywhere but near him.
Once seated, she couldn't bear the silence any longer. The image of her worried mother flashed in her mind, and she bit back tears.
