Runaway's Curse
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- Parts 12
Izra stood at the stove, her mind filled with fear, her face look worried.
Heavy footsteps echoed behind her. Before she could turn, his hand clamped around her wrist.
"You think you can ignore me after what you did?" His voice was sharp, dripping with anger.
"I..I'm just cooking," she tried to avoid his eyes, her heart pounding.
He yanked her forward, her body hitting the counter. The hot pan burn beside her, and before she could react, he forced her hand down onto the pan
Loud scream ripped from her throat as the burning metal touch her soft skin.
"Stop! Please It hurts!" she sobbed, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened, Keeping her in place
"Maybe now you'll listen like a good wife." His voice was calm.
Warning ⚠️ abusive, bad language, toxic relationship, meterial rape.
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In the vanity mirror, a stranger stared back at me. A bride in red. A soulless doll. With a heavy sigh, I began removing the endless pins from my dupatta, loosening the choker, the jewelry. Only my anklets and bangles remained. The door clicked open. Shut with a thud. My heart stopped. I grabbed my dupatta, draping it over my shoulders. He strode toward me, his eyes burning. In fury, he yanked my hair back. Pain seared my scalp. "Why the fuck did you remove this?" he roared. "Don't you know you have to wait for your dear husband?" His voice dripped with psychotic pleasure. "Oh? Were you too desperate to be fucked by your husband?" In one swift motion, he yanked the dupatta away and shoved me onto the bed. I crawled backwards, fear clawing at my chest. Within seconds, he was half-naked, towering over me. He grabbed my leg, dragging me under him, his entire weight crushing my fragile body.
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