The room was dimly lit, with shadows dancing across the walls as the girl's fragile frame quivered on the cold floor.
Her eyes, swollen and wet from hours of crying, stared at the man standing before her.
Fear gripped her, her heart pounding in her chest like a trapped bird.
"P-please... leave me..." her voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, as tears continued to stream down her bruised face.
She raised her shaking hands in a futile attempt to protect herself. "Please... please..."
But the man did not listen.
He never did.
His eyes gleamed with a twisted delight, taking in her vulnerability, savoring every tear that fell.
He was no longer a husband-he was a predator, feeding off her suffering, reveling in the power he held over her.
A sadistic grin spread across his face as he slowly approached her.
His heavy boots echoed in the silence, each step like the toll of a death knell.
Without warning, he lunged forward, his hand tangling viciously in her hair.
He yanked her closer, her scalp screaming in pain as she let out a sharp gasp.
"No, dear wife," he hissed, his breath hot against her tear-streaked skin, "I am not going to leave you. You are at my mercy... and you are my slave."
His words slithered through the air, poisonous and cruel.
She could feel his sickening pleasure radiating off him, and it made her stomach churn.
But her tears were spent.
Her heart had shattered long ago, leaving behind only a shell of the girl she once was.
All that remained was endurance-a hollow survival.
Without warning, his hand cracked across her face, the sting reverberating through her bones.
Her head snapped to the side, but this time, she didn't flinch.
The pain had become familiar, almost like an old companion.
The bruises on her face throbbed, but she felt nothing.
Not anymore.
She was beyond pain-just a breathing corpse now, with empty eyes and broken dreams.
He expected her to scream, to beg for mercy.
But there was nothing left to give him.
She had given it all.
Yet, deep within the emptiness, a tiny flicker of hope remained, hidden away where he could never reach it.
A hope that one day she would break free.
That one day, this monster who called himself her husband would no longer have power over her.
But for now, she remained silent, her body trembling under his grip, waiting for the storm to pass.
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Yeh Mera Deewanapan Hai🍂🏵️🍂
Short Story🎶🎶Yeh Mera Deewanapan Hai Ya Mohabbat Ka Suroor Tu Na Pehchaane To Hai Yeh Teri Nazron Ka Kusoor Yeh Mera Deewanapan ...🎶🎶 Hellooooooo! This is the third book in Short Stories Collection!!!!! With some new stories, new characters and new lives b...
