RAAZ YA HUMRAAZ

"The servants are still awake downstairs. My wife is just down the hall."

​"You shouldn't have come up here tonight," I say, my voice low, a deep baritone that carries a sharp, aristocratic edge.

​"H-Hukum... main toh bas..."

I choked out, a hot tear spilling over my lashes as my hands tightly fisted into the simple fabric of my faded cotton tunic (poshak). I looked up into his cruel, handsome face, completely trapped in the golden cage of his desires.

(Hukum... I was just...)

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I want to warn everyone right at the start: this story is extremely dark and contains a lot of disturbing content. If this isn't your cup of tea, please don't read it. I don't want any negative comments, as I have already given you fair warning.