Silk saree. Diamond necklace. Red lips. A wealthy man's possession. A mistress. Her fingers slowly touched the fading bruise near her collarbone before quickly moving away, as though even she could not bear touching herself anymore. Outside the locked bedroom, laughter and music echoed through the mansion halls. Another party. Another night where powerful people would stare at her with curiosity, pity, or hidden mockery. "That's Abhinandan Varada's mistress" "She used to be a classical dancer, right?" "What a waste." The whispers never ended. Ahalya closed her eyes tightly. Once, people looked at her with admiration. Now they looked at her like sin A knock came at the door. "Madam,""Sir is calling you downstairs." Her stomach tightened instantly. Fear had become instinct now. Ahalya wiped her tears before they could fall and forced herself to stand. No matter how broken she felt... He would still call. And she would still go. Because Abhinandan Varada always got what he wanted. Always. She slowly walked through the grand corridors of the mansion that looked more like a golden cage than a home. Guards lowered their heads as she passed. No one met her eyes. No one dared. There Abhinandan sat lazily on the couch, glass of whiskey in one hand, looking powerful enough to own the entire world. And maybe he did. But the moment his eyes landed on her, something dangerous softened in his expression. "There you are, little doe." The endearment made her chest ache. A year ago, she had been a rising dancer with dreams in her eyes. Now she trembled hearing a man call her with affection. He opened one arm toward her casually. "Come here." Ahalya stood frozen. Every instinct inside her wanted to run. But there was nowhere left to run anymore. Because the cruelest thing about Abhinandan Varada was not his power. Not his anger. Not even the darkness inside him. It was the way he destroyed her life... And then loved her among the ruins.

I stared at the girl in the mirror. She was only a shadow of the girl I used to be. Blue eyes, void of emotions and glint, glanced back at me. My lipstick and mascara were smudged, and my blonde curls were a complete mess from when he had fisted them while he pounded inside me from behind. "Whores like you deserved to be fucked bent over the counter of a hotel restroom," Logan's last words before he left the ladies' restroom echoed in my ears. A tear trickled down my cheek as a scream fought to escape out of my mouth. I bit down on my lip to stop myself from crying out loud. He had vowed to hate me till eternity and make me pay for every single one of my sins. The thing I was unaware of was that I would start to hate myself during this journey of betrayal and vengeance. -------------------- Christina struggled to make ends meet with her mom, who was suffering from cancer. An old pervert boss who was hell-bent on making her his wife number four and a whole lot of her colleagues who wished her to be gone guy from the company. When someone from her past returns to her life, vowing to make her pay for her betrayal, she has nothing left but to see her life falling apart. Past will be dug, secrets will resurface, and buried passions reignite in this tale of betrayal and hate. Trigger Warning ⚠️ : The MMC in this book is unlike the ones in my other books. He is vindictive and abusive and does many questionable things. If you don't like such characters, please refrain from reading further.