The Aryans (18 +) On Hold

10

......

Their hands shivered in the grasp of their men. It was the hand which was supposed to give them a sense of protection, safety and a hope of belongingness. However the women felt nothing but fear and coldness radiating from their holds.

They shared a glance with one another, afraid to let out a single word to say a no.

They did not think twice before killing their real aunt, they will not think once before killing them.

The thought made the three girls gulp in fear.

The Aryans don't even have a bit of love for them in their hearts which could somehow save the girls from their wrath.

They only get rejection, humiliation, hate and disrespect from their husbands.

Hoping for love and kindness from men like them would be foolish enough.

Not knowing what to do in the silencing echo of the long corridors of the estate, the women chose silence. The weakest yet the strongest weapon of the women.

As they entered the study room which belonged to Nirvana primarily, the new girl in the family roamed her scared yet intrigued eyes around the interior.
Just like any other part of the royal estate the room roared with royalty, richness and comfort. It was the texture of the mahogany that gave the sense of comfort and coldness to the room.

Her eyes drinking each section of the private room finally stopped at her new elder brother in law.

His eyes were blank as a canvas not showing a bit of anger or disappointment still Clover flinched back. The intensity of those blank emotionless eyes were more than enough to scare her. Those eyes don't need a special kind of emotion in them to scare the guts out of anyone let alone a midget weakling like her.

Izan grasped her shoulder as she stumbled back on her feets, colliding her back to his hard chest.

Clover looked up at her husband, the tints of blood still coloring his handsome face. Her heart cried out of terror seeing that face, last night it scared her enough to leave her soul paralyzed but with this same face carrying someone's real blood she knew her soul was not only paralyzed but it was death.

She shared the bed with the devil.

Izan enjoyed the terrified look of her face. It made him feel superior, which he always was but the display of authority always satisfied the ego of a man like him. He pulled his wife closer to his chest, making her lean on him completely.

Shame and hesitation leaving him like carbon dioxide. Maybe that's what he is giving to the world. Nothing else.

(Note the sarcasm)

Clover felt herself burning in shame as he held her close to himself, almost melting her into him. She dared to look him in the eyes and beg him to stop his shameless charades, however that only made the man smirk as without saying a word he sat on the chair reserved only for him on the other side of the desk with his wife on his lap.

Secured and owned.

Zehra stood quietly by her husband's side. There was a time when she wanted to erase all the gap between them but now at this very moment she wanted nothing but to run away from him.

Curling her fingers into a fist she attempted to curb the fear sprawling its wings inside her but one pull from him and she found herself on his lap, with his hand snaked around her waist and her arm wrapped around his neck.

Stunned, she felt her heart thundering. Slowly she turned her eyes to him only to find some unknown emotions swirling in them. It was definitely not love. As she remembers how love looks in his eyes.