THE CALL
1559 Words
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the tall curtains, streaking gold across the floor. Jasmine stirred awake, her head heavy from a restless night. For a moment, she forgot where she was — until her eyes met the unfamiliar ceiling and her heart dropped.
The mansion was too quiet.
Too perfect.
Too foreign.
She sat up slowly, fingers running through her tangled hair, her gaze drifting toward the balcony. Outside, the gardens stretched endlessly — trimmed hedges, marble fountains, and guards moving like silent shadows. The air smelled faintly of roses and rain, but the silence in her room felt suffocating.
She hadn’t seen Meheek since last night. The memory of his voice — calm but heavy — lingered. “You don’t have to fear me, Jasmine.”
But how could she not?
She rose, washed her face, and changed into a simple cream gown she had packed from home. When she stepped out of her room, she felt the walls closing in — each corridor wide and gleaming, yet cold. Servants bowed when they saw her but never met her eyes.
Downstairs, she found the dining hall. The long table stretched almost endlessly, polished silverware gleaming in the soft light. Only one person sat there — Meheek.
He looked impossibly composed in a black shirt, his sleeves rolled up, revealing veins and the faint scar that cut across his wrist — the same place she bore the mark. His attention was on his tablet, but when she entered, his gaze lifted. Sharp. Intense.
“Good morning,” he said simply.
She hesitated, unsure whether to speak or not. “Good morning,” she managed softly.
He gestured toward the seat across from him. “Eat something.”
She obeyed quietly, sitting opposite him. The table was already set with breakfast — eggs, bread, fruit, and coffee. Yet every bite tasted like sawdust. Her appetite was gone, swallowed by tension.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the faint clink of silverware.
Then, suddenly, his voice broke the silence.
“You didn’t sleep well.”
It wasn’t a question — it was an observation.
Jasmine froze mid-bite. “I… I’m fine,” she lied quickly.
He leaned back in his chair, watching her with that unreadable calm. “You don’t have to pretend.”
The way he said it made her throat tighten. There was no threat in his tone — just quiet certainty, as though he could see right through her.
She swallowed hard, looking away. “I just need time to adjust.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said. Then, after a pause: “There’s a gathering tonight. You’ll meet the rest of my family.”
Her stomach dropped. “Family?”
He nodded. “The Sahi family — my uncle, my cousins, their partners. They’ll expect you to be present.”
Her fingers curled around the edge of her plate. The thought of standing among strangers, smiling like a dutiful wife, while everyone stared at her like an outsider — it made her chest tighten. But she didn’t argue.
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Good.”
He returned his attention to his tablet, ending the conversation as abruptly as he started it. She finished her meal in silence and rose quietly from the table.
As she walked back to her room, she felt his eyes following her. There was something about Meheek’s gaze — it wasn’t cruel, but it was heavy, almost magnetic. The kind that made her heart race for reasons she didn’t understand.
---
Later that afternoon, as sunlight poured into the room, Jasmine sat by her dressing table brushing her hair when her phone buzzed on the table. The sight of the name on the screen made her heart leap.
Havilah.
Her best friend. The only piece of her old life that hadn’t been taken.
She answered quickly, voice trembling with relief. “Havi…”
“Jasmine!” Havilah’s voice burst through the speaker, half-scolding, half-worried. “Why haven’t you called me since yesterday? I’ve been losing my mind!”
Jasmine exhaled shakily, forcing a weak laugh. “I… I didn’t know what to say. Everything happened so fast.”
“Tell me everything. Are you okay? How was the ceremony? And that man — Meheek — is he as scary as they say?”
Jasmine’s fingers tightened on the phone. She looked around the room instinctively, lowering her voice. “He’s… different. Quiet. He doesn’t talk much, but there’s something about him. I can’t figure him out. It’s like standing near fire and ice at the same time.”
“Oh my God,” Havilah muttered dramatically. “That sounds intense. Are you alone right now?”
“I think so…” Jasmine said softly. “I’m in my room.”
But she was wrong.
Outside her door, the faintest shadow moved. Meheek had been walking past, heading toward his study when he heard her voice. Her laughter. The way she said his name.
He paused — not out of jealousy, but curiosity. He leaned slightly closer to the door, just enough to catch her next words.
“I don’t even know what to do, Havi,” Jasmine continued, voice cracking slightly. “I’m terrified. He doesn’t shout, he doesn’t touch me, he just… looks. Like he’s studying everything I do. Sometimes, I can’t breathe.”
Meheek’s eyes darkened.
Inside, Jasmine whispered, “It’s like I’m living in someone else’s life. And the worst part is, I don’t even hate him. I’m just scared of what he can do — what he might do.”
“Then come home!” Havilah urged. “Jas, please. You don’t owe them anything. If he ever—”
“I can’t,” Jasmine interrupted softly. “It’s not that simple. The binding mark… it’s real, Havi. I can feel it. It’s like something pulling me back every time I think of leaving.”
Outside, Meheek’s jaw tensed.
“Jas…” Havilah’s tone softened. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. And if anything happens, call me — I don’t care what time it is.”
“I will,” Jasmine whispered. “Thank you.”
When the call ended, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The mark on her wrist glowed faintly — that faint silver shimmer — pulsing like a heartbeat.
Her chest ached.
Outside the door, Meheek finally moved. His footsteps were silent as he walked away, but there was a storm brewing in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, yet her words stuck in his mind.
“I’m terrified.”
“He doesn’t touch me.”
“He just looks.”
He clenched his fists. Fear wasn’t what he wanted from her. Not obedience. Not silence. But how could he make her understand that his world was built on danger — that even loving him could destroy her?
---
By evening, Jasmine stood before her mirror again, dressed in a pale blue gown chosen by the housekeeper for the family gathering. Her hair flowed in waves, and silver earrings glimmered softly against her skin. She looked… different. Like someone pretending to belong in this life.
When Meheek came to escort her, she froze again. He looked striking in a dark suit, his expression unreadable as ever.
“You look…” he paused, his gaze trailing over her briefly, “…presentable.”
A small, awkward silence followed before he added quietly, “Don’t be nervous. They can be… difficult, but they’ll respect you as my wife.”
Jasmine forced a small nod. “Okay.”
He offered his arm. She hesitated — then took it. The contact sent a shiver through her. His arm was warm, solid, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air — spice, smoke, and danger.
As they descended the grand staircase together, every eye in the hall turned toward them. The Sahi family filled the mansion’s living room — men in tailored suits, women in elegant dresses, and conversations that stopped mid-sentence when Meheek appeared.
“Meheek,” an older man greeted warmly — his uncle, perhaps. “And this must be the new bride.”
Jasmine bowed slightly, murmuring a greeting.
“She’s beautiful,” one of the women said with a tight smile. “A bit pale, though.”
A few people chuckled. Jasmine felt her stomach twist, but Meheek’s arm tightened slightly around hers — a silent warning to everyone in the room.
Dinner was long and heavy with questions — polite smiles masking sharp curiosity. Jasmine answered softly when spoken to, her hands trembling beneath the tablecloth. Meheek said little, but every glance he gave her was quietly protective.
When the night finally ended, she felt drained.
Back in their corridor, she exhaled shakily. “They don’t like me,” she murmured.
“They don’t have to,” Meheek replied. “They just have to respect you.”
She looked up at him then — really looked. Beneath the cold exterior, there was something else. A quiet struggle.
Before she could say anything, he turned away. “Good night, Jasmine.”
And just like that, he was gone again — leaving her with a heart full of questions and a mark that wouldn’t stop pulsing softly beneath her skin.
- Writer
