CHAPTER FOUR
1308 Words
ANAYA'S POV
Darkness.
That was all I could see.
All I could feel.
The room was cold, damp and smelled like death itself.
I had lost count of how many hours I had been in there.
My wrists were sore from the chains.
My whole body was trembling.
And every tiny scratching sound sent fresh waves of terror through me.
Rats.
Ya Allah, I hated rats.
Every time I felt something brush against my leg, my heart nearly stopped.
At some point during the night, I had cried so much that no tears came out anymore.
My throat hurt.
My body ached.
And my mind kept replaying everything.
The wedding.
The rain.
The woman in his bed.
The disgust I had felt.
The way he looked at me like I was less than human.
And then something inside me changed.
It was strange.
The pain was still there.
The fear too.
But the love?
The stupid, foolish love I had carried for years?
It was gone.
Not fading.
Gone.
Like that dark room had swallowed every last piece of it.
And in its place, something colder was beginning to grow.
Hatred.
The sound of metal scraping suddenly broke through my thoughts.
I stiffened.
The heavy door creaked open.
Light flooded the room so suddenly that my eyes burned.
I blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust.
Then my breath caught.
He was standing there.
Zayaan.
Of course it was him.
Even standing in the doorway, he somehow managed to fill the entire space.
He was dressed in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, his expression unreadable.
His dark eyes settled on me.
Cold.
Sharp.
Watching.
Studying.
He said nothing.
He just stood there.
Like he was waiting for something.
For me to cry.
Beg.
Apologize.
But I had nothing left to give him.
Slowly, I pushed myself up.
My legs nearly gave out, but I forced myself to stand.
The chains clinked as I straightened.
I kept my eyes lowered.
Not because I was scared.
But because I refused to let him see the hatred in them.
A guard stepped forward and unlocked the chains.
The metal fell away from my wrists.
Still, I said nothing.
I simply stepped out of the room.
Past him.
Without a word.
For a second, I could feel his gaze burning into my back.
But I kept walking.
For the first time since I entered this house…
I didn’t tremble because of him.
---
The moment I reached the kitchen, my body almost gave out.
Thankfully, Ana was there.
The second she saw me, her face changed.
“Ya Allah…” she whispered.
I must have looked terrible.
My hair was tangled.
My face pale.
Dark circles sat heavily beneath my eyes.
Without a word, she rushed forward and caught my arm before I collapsed.
“Sit.”
I obeyed.
Too exhausted to argue.
She placed a steaming cup of tea in front of me and crouched beside me.
“Drink.”
My hands shook as I lifted the cup.
The warmth felt foreign against my freezing fingers.
Ana studied me quietly for a moment.
Then she sighed.
“He kept you there all night.”
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded.
Her jaw tightened.
For a moment, I thought she might say something against him.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she reached into one of the cupboards and handed me a folded set of clothes.
“Go freshen up.”
I blinked at her.
“These are yours now.”
I stared down at them.
Simple clothes.
Nothing expensive.
Nothing luxurious.
But somehow, they felt like kindness.
And after everything, kindness almost hurt.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
She gave me a small nod.
Then her voice dropped lower.
“Listen to me carefully, Anaya.”
I looked up.
“If you let this house break you, it wins.”
I frowned slightly.
Ana’s eyes softened.
“People survive here by knowing when to bend… and when not to break.”
Her words settled somewhere deep inside me.
And for the first time since arriving here, I felt something dangerous rise inside me.
Resolve.
---
By afternoon, I was back to work.
The maids stared.
Some with pity.
Some with fear.
No one said a word.
Even Stella was nowhere to be seen.
I wondered if she was still being punished.
And strangely…
I didn’t care.
For once, my thoughts weren’t consumed by fear of what would happen next.
Something had shifted.
I moved through the day quietly.
Calmly.
Without tears.
Without trembling.
And apparently, he noticed.
---
Dinner was served at exactly eight.
Like everything else in his house, it ran with perfect precision.
I stood with the other maids near the dining area, waiting.
Then he entered.
The room instantly changed.
Silence swallowed everything.
He took his seat without looking at anyone.
But as he reached for his glass, his eyes lifted.
And landed on me.
I met his gaze.
Only for a second.
Then looked away.
But that second was enough.
I saw it.
The brief flicker of surprise in his expression.
He had noticed.
I wasn’t shaking.
I wasn’t crying.
I wasn’t avoiding his presence like before.
For the rest of dinner, I could feel his gaze finding me again and again.
Testing.
Watching.
Waiting.
But I gave him nothing.
And somehow, that seemed to unsettle him more than fear ever had.
---
After dinner, the staff began clearing the table.
I was carrying a tray toward the kitchen when his voice stopped me.
“Stay.”
The single word froze everyone.
I slowly turned.
The others disappeared quickly, leaving us alone.
My heart beat faster.
But my face remained blank.
He stood from his chair and walked toward me.
Every step measured.
Controlled.
Until he stopped directly in front of me.
Too close.
His eyes searched my face.
As if trying to understand something.
“What changed?”
His voice was low.
I frowned slightly.
He tilted his head.
“This morning, you looked ready to break.”
A pause.
“Now you don’t.”
For a moment, I said nothing.
Then I answered.
Carefully.
“Maybe I already broke.”
Something flickered across his face.
Gone too quickly for me to understand.
His jaw tightened.
“You should be careful what you say.”
And for the first time, I looked him directly in the eye.
“I am.”
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut.
Then, without another word, he stepped aside.
“Go.”
I walked away.
Slowly.
Refusing to rush.
And though I didn’t turn back, I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.
---
That night, I returned to my room exhausted.
For once, sleep felt possible.
But the moment I entered, I stopped.
There was a small box on my bed.
Plain.
Black.
No markings.
My stomach tightened.
Slowly, I approached it.
Opened it.
Inside was a small bottle of antiseptic, ointment for my wrists, pain relievers…
And a folded note.
My fingers hesitated before unfolding it.
Three words.
Do not repeat this.
No name.
No signature.
Nothing.
But I knew.
It was him.
I stared at the note for a long time.
Confusion twisting inside me.
Why would he punish me so cruelly…
Only to send this?
Was it guilt?
Control?
A warning?
I didn’t know.
And somehow, that unsettled me more than his cruelty ever had.
I placed the note back in the box and sat on the edge of the bed.
Then, for the first time in days, I looked out the window.
The night was still.
Quiet.
But deep down, I knew something had changed.
He had noticed my silence.
And I had noticed his hesitation.
This war between us had only just begun.
And this time…
I wouldn’t lose.
- Writer
