Karan sat at the kitchen table, staring at the piles of documents scattered before him. Preeta, his wife, had been meticulously orchestrating their financial future for months. Or rather, her financial future. Karan’s trust in Preeta had always been unwavering, but lately, he felt the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on his shoulders.
Preeta entered the room, her presence commanding as always. She was dressed impeccably in designer clothes, a stark contrast to Karan’s simple attire. Her eyes glinted with a mixture of satisfaction and dominance as she looked at him.
"Karan, darling, have you finished reviewing the documents I left for you?" she asked, her voice sweet yet laced with an undertone of control.
Karan nodded, his throat dry. "Yes, Preeta. I've gone through them."
"Good," she purred, taking a seat across from him. "Then you understand what needs to be done."
Karan's heart ached as he nodded again. Preeta had managed to transfer all his property and money into her name, convincing him that it was the best decision for their future. He had trusted her completely, and now he was left with nothing but the clothes on his back.
"Sign here," Preeta instructed, sliding a final document toward him. "This will ensure everything is legally binding."
With a trembling hand, Karan picked up the pen and signed the paper, sealing his financial fate. Preeta smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
"Perfect," she said, taking the document and placing it neatly in a folder. "Now, Karan, I have some errands for you to run. You can start by cleaning the house. It’s been looking quite shabby lately."
Karan’s face flushed with embarrassment. He had once been a respected businessman, and now he was reduced to a mere servant in his own home. Preeta’s commands were not just about chores; they were about asserting her dominance and humiliating him.
As Karan scrubbed the floors and washed the windows, Preeta lounged on the luxurious sofa, her feet propped up, sipping on an expensive glass of wine bought with his money. Every so often, she would give him more tasks, each one designed to degrade him further.
"Karan, the garden needs tending," she ordered without looking up from her magazine. "And don't forget to polish my shoes. I have an important event tonight, and I need to look perfect."
By the time Karan finished all the tasks, he was exhausted. His body ached, but it was his pride that hurt the most. He had been stripped of his dignity, reduced to a mere servant in the lavish mansion he once owned.
That evening, Preeta prepared for her event. She wore a stunning designer dress and adorned herself with the finest jewelry. As she stood before the mirror, she called Karan to her side.
"Karan, zip me up," she commanded.
With a heavy heart, Karan complied. As he did, he caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror. Preeta stood tall and proud, a vision of power and beauty, while he looked small and broken.
"Remember, Karan," Preeta said softly, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "this is the life you chose. You gave me everything, and now, you have nothing."
Karan looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resignation. He had loved Preeta deeply, but in his love, he had given her too much power. Now, he was paying the ultimate price.
Preeta left for her event, leaving Karan alone in the grand, empty house. He wandered through the halls, the weight of his decisions heavy on his shoulders. He had sacrificed everything for Preeta, and in doing so, he had lost himself.
As the night wore on, Karan sat in the darkness of the living room, reflecting on the choices he had made. He realized that love should never come at the cost of one’s dignity and self-worth. But for Karan, it was too late. Preeta had taken everything, and he was left with nothing but the bitter taste of regret.
And so, Karan remained in the shadows of his once-glorious life, a testament to the dangers of blind devotion and the devastating power of financial humiliation.
