His Prisoner 21+

46

With no other option, she hurriedly ran upstairs and slowly opened the bedroom door only to freeze as her breath hitched and her heart also froze. Arzal was facing the balcony with one of his hands tucked into his pants pocket while his other hand had something gripped in it. Only his silhouette was visible in the dark room with only some moonlight coming through. His towering muscular frame looked powerful which intimidated her extremely.

"Kuch bhool gayi thi?" His voice broke the silence, calm and menacing. He raised his hand, revealing what he was holding—her passport. (Did you forget something?)

Emaan's eyes widened in horror as the bundles of cash dropped from her hand. She stood paralyzed, terrified of what he might do to her now.

Arzal turned around slowly, his eyes bloodshot with anger. "Kamre mein aa," he commanded, his voice dangerously low. (Come inside.)

Emaan's body trembled in fear, her head shaking slightly in defiance as she stood frozen in place by the doorway. Each slow, deliberate step he took toward her felt like the walls were closing in. She wanted to run, to escape, but her legs wouldn't move—fear anchored her where she stood.

As he approached, Emaan instinctively lowered her gaze, her shoulders hunching as if bracing for the inevitable His presence was suffocating, and she could feel the heat radiating off him in his rage.

"Tu kya chahti hai? Tujhe mein bed se baandh ke rakhun har waqt?" His voice was laced with cruel mockery, but when she didn't respond, his hands gripped her shoulders tightly, shaking her with violent force. "Haan!" he demanded, his voice rising in anger. (What do you want? Should I keep you tied to the bed all time? Answer me!)

Emaan gasped, tears welling in her eyes as she shook her head, her voice quivering. "N-nahi... mujhe bas yahan se jana hai." (N-no... I just want to leave.)

"Kyun? Pehle toh bilkul theek thi, ab achanak kya hogaya hai?" Arzal's gaze was unyielding, his voice taunting her as though her fear was an overreaction, a mere tantrum. His casual arrogance was chilling as if he had forgotten every atrocity he'd committed. (Why? You were perfectly fine before. What's changed all of a sudden?)

Tears spilled from Emaan's eyes as she stared at him in disbelief. She couldn't believe he was pretending everything was normal. Her voice broke as she finally spoke.  "A-ap ne... itni berehmi se... kh-khoon kar diye..." The horror of what she had witnessed choked her words, the memory of the bloodshed haunting her. (Y-you killed those men... so brutally...)

"Toh?" He raised an eyebrow, utterly unbothered by her accusation. "Kya farq parta hai?" (And so? Does it matter?)

"Farq parta hai!" Emaan's voice trembled with desperation, her sobs choking her. "Main ek qatil ke saath nahi reh sakti hoon!" Her body shook with fear and anger, the images of his violent acts flashing through her mind, making her sick to her core. (It does matter! I can't live with a murderer!)

Arzal ran a hand over his face in frustration. "Tujhe kitni baar bola hai, ke rehna toh tujhe mere saath hi hai, Emaan." His voice was calm now, unnervingly so, as if her pleas were nothing but background noise. (I've told you before—you're staying with me, Emaan. There's no other option.)

"Nahi!" she cried out, her desperation reaching its peak. "Mera passport de dein, main yahan se ja rahi hoon. Warna—" (No! Give me my passport. I'm leaving. Otherwise—)

"War-na kya?" He mocked her, stepping even closer, his breath hot against her skin. "Kya karegi tu?" (Other-wise what? What will you do?)

"M-main police mein complain karwaungi apki." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear it echo in her ears. (I-I'll go to the police. I'll report you.)