My Demon's Lust

Pristine walls coated in silver white, the monotonous eerily haunting of chandeliers glittering, the perfect unison of the household staffs synchronising in serving the dinner. Deep breaths, Anushka… it will pass. All I have to do is smile, greet, and maintain my composure. No flipping table. No screaming, and especially no hitting or maiming people. Well, I don’t do it, still — I am open to options when I see a certain group of individuals sitting in front of me. Scrutinising, judging in their minds, evaluating me all together, whether I will be right for their beautiful cage that they are preparing for me or any women. At this moment, it is me. After a while of back and forth with plasters of fake laughters and stabbing jokes, I was sent to the patio where the guy of my doom was waiting sipping tea, right. I took a deep breath and scrutinised him back. He wasn’t looking bad at all, which is good for starters. See, not all Indian men are well groomed. Either they have a pot-belly or extremely thin or do have a pig nose. No offence, but Bollywood men are different from the men in the streets. I smiled, stressing my cheeks and internally wrecking chaos. “Anushka, right?” Checking my name, is he what? A government official? And pretending like he didn’t even hear during the conversation or rather never mentioned to him at all. “Yes,” I maintained my composure. “Siddarth,” I know. “Pleasure meeting you.” “Pleasure is all mine.” Which isn’t. A beat. Two. “I know you will be completing your bachelor’s soon…” I narrowed my eyes, “And?” “I heard from Uncle…” Which is Vaidyanath — not calling that man my father, who is ready to sell me as a product available in the market. “You wish to do your masters.” “So?” I am being polite. “I have no objection.” Who the f**k are you to object to me?! I took a silent deep breath. Control… “I am ready to pay and be your guardian but on a condition.” “I am listening,” I said monotonously, not snapping which he should be grateful. “This is a political marriage, not out of love. I am a businessman before I become your husband. I will acknowledge you as my wife but don’t expect love. The condition is — I need an heir immediately after the marriage. Regardless of your passion or what you might have set in the future.” Dread settled within me. I need to escape. He will ruin me if I nod to every whim. I will ruin myself. I had to ruin myself. I will be no doll for collection, and not trap myself into this hellish cage that I will be shoved into because freedom doesn’t come without a payment. Even if I have to sell my soul to Satan.