Her Deviant Husband | [✓]

Chapter 3 (TW)

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

The chapter contains mature and potentially unsettling themes. It references violence and features a MMC with a history of killing. There is a scene in which he observes the FMC  while she is unaware and undressed.

The moment is not written from a place of lust or exploitation, but it remains ethically complicated and deeply introspective.
The narrative emphasizes his awareness of his own flaws, the discomfort of his actions, and the weight of his internal conflict.

He does not attempt to touch, coerce, or violate her in any way, and the story does not romanticize harm. Instead, it explores the tension between her vulnerability and his capacity for violence, highlighting his restraint and the boundaries he refuses to cross.

Reader discretion is advised.

- - -
Reyansh's pov

I wasn't supposed to be here.

Fuck, I never did this.

Stalking some rich girl from a distance like a fucking creep? This wasn't me. I had never even seen the woman in real life. And yet, here I was.

This kind of thing was never my game. I always kept things simple, efficient. Get in, handle business, leave no trace. No complications, no distractions.

But tonight?

Tonight, I was sitting in my goddamn SUV, staring at a woman I hadn't thought twice about until now.

Athira Roy.

Her name hadn't meant shit to me until last week. Another corporate heiress, another over-privileged brat who had no idea how the world really worked. People like her lived in glass castles, untouched by the blood and grime that defined the rest of us. I'd known about her existence, of course. Who the fuck didn't?

The Roys were royalty in the business world, their name was everywhere.

And yet I hadn't given a single fuck about them. Not until now.

The first time I heard about her, it was nothing special. Just Vihaan, my assistant, rattling off the usual updates. The Roy family's latest moves, business deals, mergers, charity events. Boring, everyday shit. I barely paid attention. Why would I?

But then she shouldn't have funded people who were against me either.

I didn't give a fuck if she knew or not.

She was in my orbit now.
My world.
Whether she realized it or not, she had crossed a line.

So I started digging.

At first, it was just the basics.

Background checks, basic surveillance.

Routine stuff.

I expected to find the usual—rich girl, pampered life, surrounded by yes-men, busy schedule of fake smiles and handshakes.

But then I was wrong.

The more I looked, the more I hated her.

It wasn't anything she did, not yet at least, but there was something about her that crawled under my skin.

That sunshine smile plastered across her face in every fucking photo. It didn't seem fake at all. Not by any fucking chance.

The way she lit up every room she walked into, oblivious to the shitshow life really was.

I gripped the steering wheel tight, my knuckles going white.

I hated people who smiled like that.

So easily, so effortlessly.