CHAPTER THREE
1347 Words
ANAYA'S POV
“Get her here right now!”
His voice thundered through the mansion.
And if I thought I had known fear before, then this was something far worse.
Because this wasn’t the cold, detached Zayaan I had seen since arriving.
This was anger.
Raw.
Controlled, but unmistakably furious.
My hands froze over the tray I had been drying.
The kitchen fell silent instantly.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Then Stella stormed in.
She didn’t even wait for me to ask what was happening.
Her fingers dug painfully into my wrist as she yanked me forward.
“Move,” she hissed.
I stumbled behind her, my legs still weak from spending the night half-soaked and shivering. My clothes clung to my skin, and my body still ached from the cold.
The moment we reached the living room, she shoved me forward.
Hard.
I fell to my knees.
Pain shot through them immediately.
When I looked up, my breath caught.
He was standing.
He hadn’t even gone upstairs to change.
Still in his work clothes, tie slightly loosened, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
That alone told me everything.
He had come home angry.
And somehow… I was the reason.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Dark.
Sharp.
Terrifying.
“Who the f*ck told you to come back inside?”
The roar shook straight through me.
My mouth went dry.
No words came out.
“Speak!”
My entire body trembled.
“I… I…” My voice cracked. “Stella came and woke me up to clean.”
The room went still.
Slowly, I lifted my head.
His gaze had shifted.
To Stella.
And the look in his eyes…
It was the same one I had only ever seen directed at me.
Cold enough to freeze blood.
“Who gave you the authority to do that?”
Stella’s confidence disappeared instantly.
“Mas-master…” she stammered. “I… I didn’t tell her to come inside. It was Ana. She called her in because she said she was falling sick.”
My stomach dropped.
She was lying.
And she was dragging Ana into it.
Fear twisted in my chest, but before I could think, the words escaped me.
“Zayaan, she’s lying—”
I barely saw him move.
One second he was standing across from me.
The next, his hand had yanked me upward so fast my breath caught painfully in my throat.
His grip on my arm was iron.
He forced me to face him.
His face was inches from mine.
“What the f*ck did you just call me?”
His voice was low now.
That was worse.
Much worse.
My whole body shook.
“I-I’m sorry,” I whispered. “It was a slip of the tongue.”
His jaw clenched.
“The next time I hear my name leave your mouth, you will regret it.”
Tears burned my eyes.
I nodded quickly.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, Master.”
Only then did he release me.
I stumbled backward, nearly collapsing again.
He didn’t spare me another glance.
Instead, he turned toward one of the guards.
“Bring the CCTV footage.”
A collective shiver seemed to pass through the room.
Within minutes, the footage was playing.
And the truth unfolded in complete silence.
Stella entering the kitchen.
Stella dragging me out.
Stella lying.
By the time it ended, the room felt suffocating.
Zayaan stood still for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
“Take Stella to The Room.”
A sharp gasp escaped several maids.
Even Ana’s expression changed.
And just like that, I understood.
The Room was no ordinary punishment.
Stella’s face drained of all color.
“Master, please—”
“Take her.”
The guards didn’t hesitate.
They seized her arms and dragged her out as she screamed.
Her pleas echoed down the hallway until they disappeared completely.
I stared after her, my stomach twisting.
What kind of place could make even Stella terrified?
---
Later That Night
Dinner passed in heavy silence.
No one spoke above a whisper.
No one dared glance at Zayaan.
And I learned quickly.
Everyone addressed him the same way.
Master.
The word tasted bitter in my mouth.
But after earlier, I knew better than to say anything else.
When the plates were finally cleared, exhaustion settled heavily into my bones.
All I wanted was sleep.
Real sleep.
Not rain-soaked trembling on cold stone.
I was halfway to my room when I heard it.
A sound.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
A woman’s voice.
A moan.
It was coming from upstairs.
The second floor.
His floor.
No one ever went there.
The maids had made that very clear.
But the sound continued.
Broken.
Breathless.
Almost painful.
For a moment, panic gripped me.
Stella.
Was she up there?
Was that what happened in The Room?
My feet moved before my mind could stop them.
I climbed the stairs slowly, every step tightening the knot in my chest.
The sound became clearer.
“Ah… right there…”
I froze.
Another sharp sound followed.
A slap.
Then a gasp.
Horror surged through me.
No.
Surely not—
I reached the door.
Pushed it open slightly.
And then I saw.
The world stopped.
Zayaan was in bed.
With another woman.
Half naked.
Her hands clutching his shoulders.
His bare skin glistening with sweat.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
I knew he was cruel.
I knew he was cold.
But this—
This felt like something worse.
A sickness rose violently in my throat.
And before I could stop it—
I threw up.
The sound shattered the moment instantly.
The woman shrieked.
Zayaan’s head snapped toward the door.
And then our eyes met.
He was out of bed in seconds.
Storming toward me in nothing but his boxers, his body radiating fury.
“Are you mad?!”
I stumbled backward.
His eyes blazed.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
My lips trembled.
No words came.
His gaze dropped to the floor.
To the mess.
Then snapped back to me.
“And why the f*ck did you throw up on my floor?”
Something inside me shifted.
For the first time since entering this house, fear wasn’t the strongest thing I felt.
Disgust was.
At him.
At myself.
At the years I had spent loving this man.
I had built dreams around him.
Imagined softness where there had only ever been cruelty.
Ya Allah.
What had I done?
“Are you f*cking mute?”
The words hit me.
And suddenly, the answer came.
Cold.
Clear.
Steady.
“No.”
The room went silent.
His expression darkened.
I met his eyes.
And for the first time, I felt it.
Not fear.
Not longing.
Hatred.
The love I had carried for years cracked in that moment.
And something darker began to grow in its place.
---
The Punishment
His face hardened.
“Take her to The Room.”
The guards appeared almost instantly.
This time, it was me.
They dragged me downstairs.
Down past the polished floors.
Past the servants’ quarters.
Past a narrow staircase hidden behind the kitchen.
Into the basement.
The air changed immediately.
Cold.
Damp.
Rotten.
When the heavy door opened, darkness swallowed everything.
“No…”
My voice broke.
Please.
Not here.
The guards said nothing.
They forced me inside.
Metal clinked.
Chains.
My wrists were secured to iron hooks in the wall—not painfully tight, but enough to keep me trapped.
Then the door slammed shut.
Darkness.
Complete.
A rustling sound came from somewhere in the corner.
Then another.
Tiny scratching noises.
My blood ran cold.
Rats.
My breath hitched.
“No… no…”
Tears spilled freely now.
I pulled uselessly against the chains.
The scratching grew louder.
Something brushed against my ankle.
A scream tore from my throat.
And as I stood there shaking in darkness, terror swallowing me whole, one thought burned through everything else.
I hated him.
I hated Zayaan.
The boy I once loved was gone.
And whatever stood in his place…
I would never love again.
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