Her Nightmare | 18+

|| Chapter 11 ||

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PARINIDHI

I entered the living room, my pulse racing as I noticed the sympathetic looks from the maids. Their silent empathy only made me more anxious. Devansh extended his hand towards me, offering an ointment. "Here, take this. Apply it to your hand," he said calmly.

Surprised, I hesitated before accepting the ointment, unsure of his intentions. With trembling hands, I managed a weak, "Thank you, sir."

Devansh's behavior left me uneasy, making me question whether this gesture was genuine or just a subtle warning. As he walked to the dining table, I stayed in place, feeling my role limited to serving him.

"Come here," his voice cut through the tension, pulling me from my thoughts. I approached cautiously, feeling the weight of his gaze.

"Sit," he commanded, surprising both me and the maids. As I took my seat, the room seemed to hold its breath, every eye on me.

The maid served our meals and left quietly, leaving just Devansh and me. His solitary dining choice contrasted sharply with his decision to keep me there.

Devansh took the first bite and looked at me, his eyes showing a hint of approval but remaining focused. "Are you going to eat or just wait for me to feed...?" His words trailed off as he realized something, catching me off guard.

Keeping my gaze on my plate, I felt his eyes linger. After the meal, Devansh left without a word, leaving me to interpret his actions.

Entering my room, I felt a heaviness in my chest. As I applied the ointment to my hand, I lay on the bed, my thoughts swirling. The silence of the room amplified the questions in my mind.

"Should I ask Devansh if I could go home next week? Would he agree, or would there be consequences again? How important was it to tell Ajit about my marriage?"

Determined, I decided to seek Devansh's permission, thinking he seemed in a better mood today. I left my room with hesitant steps and approached Devansh's door, which was slightly ajar.

Peering inside, I saw Devansh seated in his chair, holding a photo frame, tears in his eyes. I realized I had stumbled upon a private moment. As I was about to retreat, my hand brushed the door handle, making a slight noise. Devansh looked up, meeting my gaze, and motioned me to come in.

"Come in," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

Nervous and apologetic, I stepped inside and quickly said, "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just leaving when... my hand hit the door handle."

I kept my eyes down, feeling embarrassed and unsure of how Devansh would react to my intrusion.

Devansh put the photo frame away and wiped a tear from his cheek before asking, "What is it?"

"S-sir, I wanted to go home next week for a while. I'll come back right away. I need to see my mother," I said, still looking at the floor.

Devansh stood up and approached me, making me step back until I hit the wall. The thought of another confrontation made me nervous, knowing his dominance would leave its mark on me again.

He placed his hands on either side of me against the wall, trapping me and demanding, "Say it again. What did you just say? And this time, speak the truth."

Fear widened my eyes, and I found myself unable to speak, feeling as if my voice had been taken away. I stayed silent, staring at the ground.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to meet his. Devansh grabbed my chin gently but firmly and insisted, "Repeat it. You told the truth earlier, didn't you? Why can't you say it again?"

His tone was forceful, making me feel like I was trembling with guilt.

"Are you going to see your mother or Ajit?" Devansh asked. His eyes, once sad, were now filled with anger and resentment.

My heart raced with panic as I struggled to free myself from his grip, overwhelmed and unable to think clearly.

Devansh's voice cut through the tension. "Who are you going to see?" His eyes blazed with intensity.

Tears welled up as I confessed, "I just wanted to tell him about our marriage."

"Next time, don't lie to me," Devansh said, his voice thunderous. "I hate lies, but I hate betrayal even more."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "I'm sorry. I won't meet him, I won't lie," I vowed, my voice trembling.

Without warning, Devansh kissed me, his kiss demanding and possessive. A wave of conflicting emotions surged through me as his hand moved to my waist, igniting a fire I couldn't understand.

As we parted, his grip on my waist remained firm, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. "Your past doesn't matter now. You belong to me," he declared in a low, menacing tone.

Caught in his gaze, I felt adrenaline rush through me, my heart racing as I tried to understand the depth of his passion and possessiveness.

Lying in bed, Devansh's words echoed in my mind, overshadowing everything else. Despite my attempts to push them away, they persisted, gnawing at my thoughts. Devansh's behavior was confusing—sometimes abusive, other times possessive.

If we were to accept this marriage, would I escape the abuse?

Would he ever show me love and respect?

I drifted into an uneasy sleep, seeking solace in my dreams from the tumultuous reality that awaited me.

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