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The heavy rain pounded against the windows of the grand mansion, each drop echoing like a drumbeat in the tense silence. Rayyan stormed through the front door, his eyes blazing with fury. His jaw clenched tightly, and he scanned the hall, searching for her. The air was thick with anticipation, and every step he took reverberated through the marble floor.
"Mrs. Mehra!" he roared, his voice cutting through the oppressive stillness. The head maid emerged from the kitchen, her heart racing as she hurried towards him. The other maids followed, their faces etched with fear and concern.
"Sir," Mrs. Mehra's voice trembled, respect mingling with the palpable fear. She kept her head low, avoiding his gaze.
Rayyan spun around to face her, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Where is she?" he demanded, his tone firm and unyielding. His eyes continued to scour the hall, looking for any sign of Mahira.
"Sir, she didn't come now," Mrs. Mehra replied, her voice shaking. She felt a pang of sympathy for Mahira, knowing the torment she endured at Rayyan's hands.
Footsteps echoed from behind them, and everyone turned to see Mahira enter the hall. She gasped, trying to catch her breath after running frantically. Her face was flushed, not just from exertion but also from fever. Her eyes were moist, and her hands clutched her handbag tightly. Before she could even process what was happening, Rayyan had crossed the distance between them in a few menacing strides.
With a swift, brutal motion, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head forward until they were face to face. "How dare you come home late? Where were you, huh? The office leaves at 7; it's already 8! Where were you for that one hour? Were you with your fucking boyfriend?" he roared, his voice filled with venom. He shook her violently, making her flinch and tears stream down her cheeks. She bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her sobs.
"Stop this fake crying!" Rayyan yelled, his grip tightening. "I'm not going to fall for these fake tears. Just how you made him fall into your trap—how did he give money to you?" His words cut deeper than any physical pain, and Mahira's heart ached with the injustice of it all.
"No, please... leave me... it's hurting," she cried out, but there was no emotion on Rayyan's face. He was a statue of rage and control.
"You slept with---" Rayyan's voice trailed off, his accusation hanging in the air.
In a moment of defiance, Mahira summoned the little strength she had left. She raised her hand and slapped Rayyan hard across the face. The sound echoed in the silent hall, and for a brief second, time seemed to stand still. She gasped, cupping her face with her palm, realizing what she had done.
Rayyan let go of her hair, rubbing his cheek where she had struck him. Even though her slap was weak, the gesture had been enough to break through his cold facade. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to slap you," Mahira stammered, trying to apologize, but Rayyan's expression remained stern.
Without another word, he grabbed her arm and dragged her outside. The sky was dark, thunder rumbling in the distance, and the first drops of rain began to fall. He pushed her toward the front door, forcing her to stand under the relentless downpour.
"You're going to stand out here all night," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "If you dare to come inside, I will kill you the next moment." His words hung in the air, chilling Mahira to the bone.
She stood there, shivering with fear and cold, as Rayyan walked back into the mansion. The rain quickly soaked her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. Her tears mixed with the rainwater streaming down her face.
"Don't try to sit, guardas will watch you," Rayyan called out from inside. "If you move or try to sit, you won't get any food for a week." With that, he disappeared into the mansion, leaving Mahira alone in the storm.
The guards, who had witnessed everything, lowered their heads, unable to bear the sight of their boss treating his wife so cruelly. Mahira hugged herself tightly, her cries lost amidst the pounding rain. She thought about how she had once dreamed of having a loving husband who would stand by her through thick and thin—someone who would be her support, her strength.
But instead, she had ended up with a beast. A man who shattered her emotionally and physically, breaking her spirit piece by piece. He controlled every aspect of her life, leaving her starving for food, sleep, and even basic human kindness.
Mahira's thoughts drifted to the people who had broken her over the years: her mother, who had disowned her; her father, who saw her as a burden; her sister, who used her mercilessly; and her brother, who considered her useless. Each one had contributed to the fractured woman she had become, and now, even her supposed partner in life was intent on crushing her completely.
As the rain continued to pour down, drenching her to the bone, Mahira stood there, feeling utterly broken. The world around her faded away, leaving only the cold, harsh reality of her existence. Every drop of rain felt like a tear shed for the life she had never known, and the love she had never experienced.
