Shattered Illusions

2

Author's pov

As the rings were exchanged, a sense of finality settled over the room. Ziya's heart still raced from the intensity of Ayan's gaze, but she felt a fleeting sense of relief that the ceremony was over.

"I'm leaving now," Ayan said abruptly, his tone firm and commanding. His eyes scanned the room, his jaw set in determination.

Ziya's parents exchanged concerned glances. "But beta, stay for a little longer," her mother urged, her voice laced with warmth. "We haven't even celebrated."

Ayan's expression remained unyielding. "Something unexpected has come up. I must attend to it." His voice brooked no argument, his eyes already distant.

Ziya's father nodded graciously, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "We understand, Ayan. Duty calls." He glanced at Ziya, his expression reassuring.

With a curt nod, Ayan turned to Ziya. "You will follow me shortly," he instructed, his voice low and commanding. "My driver will escort you to our residence."

Ziya felt a shiver run down her spine as their eyes met. Something in his gaze made her sense that this sudden departure was more than just a business emergency.

"Okay," she replied softly, trying to hide her uncertainty.

Ayan's gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he turned and strode out of the room, leaving Ziya feeling bewildered and a little alarmed.

Her parents' knowing glances told her that they, too, sensed something amiss.

"It's okay, beta," her mother whispered, hugging her tight. "You'll join him soon. Take care of yourself."

Ziya nodded, trying to mask her trepidation. The private Nikah ceremony had ensured that no one outside their immediate family knew about their union.

As she stepped out of her parents' home, a mix of emotions swirled within her. The crisp evening air did little to calm her racing thoughts. She was worried, her mind consumed by the enigmatic figure waiting for her.

Ayan sat in the backseat of his sleek, black sedan, his eyes fixed on the phone in his hand. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor, a subtle betrayal of his annoyance.

Ziya's gaze drifted to the car as she approached, its tinted windows reflecting the fading light. The driver, impeccably dressed, opened the door for her.

"Thank you," she murmured, quickly settling into the plush leather seat.

Ayan's presence was palpable, yet he didn't acknowledge her. Ziya's eyes darted toward him, but his focus remained on his phone.

Where was she being taken? She didn't dare ask. The uncertainty gnawed at her.

All she knew about the man beside her was his name: Ayan Sayeed. Ruthless businessman, merciless in his dealings. The whispers of his reputation had reached her even before their marriage.

No one spoke well of him. No one mentioned a single redeeming quality.

Ziya's heart sank. What had she gotten herself into? Was she doomed to a life with a man who didn't care?

The car glided through the city streets, its soft hum a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within Ziya.

Ayan's silence was oppressive, his stillness more unsettling than any words.

As night began to fall, Ziya felt trapped, bound to a stranger whose heart seemed as dark as the city's shadows shadows

As the sedan glided to a halt, Ziya's fatigue threatened to overwhelm her. Hunger and sleepiness gnawed at her, but she refused to show weakness.

The majestic mansion loomed before her, its grandeur a stark contrast to her turbulent emotions. The guard opened the car door, and Ziya stepped out, her eyes scanning the deserted entrance.

No warm welcome, no smiling faces. Only silence.

Her dreams of a loving marriage shattered, Ziya bit back tears. She had no idea where to go, so she stood frozen near the door, waiting for Ayan's guidance.

Ayan emerged from the shadows, his expression unreadable. "Anna," he called out, his voice low and commanding.

A middle-aged woman appeared, her face a mask of professionalism. "Yes, sir?"

"Show my wife to her room and explain the rules," Ayan instructed, his gaze flicking to Ziya.

Anna nodded and turned to Ziya. "Follow me, ma'am."

Ziya trailed Anna through the labyrinthine corridors, her mind reeling with questions. What rules? What expectations?

As they climbed the staircase, Ziya's legs felt heavy, her heart weighed down by uncertainty.

Ayan watched Ziya's retreating figure, his brow furrowed. Why was she so quiet? Not that he cared.

But a flicker of curiosity stirred within him. He pushed it aside, focusing on the awaiting business calls.

Anna led Ziya to a lavish bedroom, the decor a blend of elegance and restraint.

"This is your room, ma'am," Anna explained, opening a door to a spacious walk-in closet. "Your personal assistant, Rukmini, will help with your wardrobe and daily needs."

Ziya nodded, trying to process the overwhelming information.

"The rules, ma'am," Anna continued, "are simple: respect Sir Ayan's schedule avoid interactions with anyone except when necessary , never ask sir about his Wheredoubts

Ziya's eyes widened, but she remained silent.

As Anna departed, Ziya felt a chill settle over her. This wasn't a home; it was a prison.

And Ayan, her husband, was the unseen jailer.

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855 words in total