CHAPTER SIX
1427 Words
Anaya's POV
I woke before Fajr.
For a moment, I simply stared at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling slowly.
The events of last night replayed vividly in my mind.
Samira.
Her mocking smile.
The way she had held onto him so confidently.
The way he had let her.
And worst of all—
The way he had looked at me after hearing my words.
Like I had become something unexpected.
Something he needed to study.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
No.
I would not let any of them disturb my peace before prayer.
Quietly, I rose from bed and performed wudu, letting the cool water wash over my skin.
For the first time in days, it felt like more than just cleansing.
It felt like renewal.
I spread my prayer mat and stood before Allah.
The familiar calm wrapped around me as I raised my hands.
Allahu Akbar.
As I prayed, my heart felt lighter.
I poured everything into my sujood.
The pain.
The humiliation.
The confusion.
The strength I was trying so desperately to hold onto.
When I finally whispered salam and sat back, I lifted my hands.
“Ya Allah,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes.
“Please make me stronger than what they want me to become.”
The words trembled from my lips.
But my heart felt steadier after saying them.
By the time I finished, the sun was beginning to rise.
And with it came my resolve.
Today, I would not break.
---
Breakfast was tense.
Samira sat at the table beside him as though she had always belonged there.
Elegant.
Perfectly poised.
Infuriating.
She smiled at him often.
Too often.
And though he remained his usual unreadable self, he did not tell her to stop.
That alone said enough.
As I stood with the other maids, waiting, I felt her eyes land on me repeatedly.
Studying.
Calculating.
Then suddenly—
“Anaya.”
The sound of my name froze me.
It was her.
Not him.
She smiled sweetly.
“Pour my tea.”
I obeyed silently.
As I leaned forward, she tilted her head slightly.
“You have very steady hands for someone who was trembling so much yesterday.”
The insult was quiet.
Sharp enough that only I could hear.
I met her gaze briefly.
“People learn.”
Her smile faltered.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
And that tiny reaction was enough.
---
The moment Zayaan left for work, her sweetness disappeared.
The entire mansion seemed to shift.
She no longer smiled.
No longer pretended.
Instead, she looked at me the way a queen might look at dirt beneath her shoe.
“Come with me.”
I followed her upstairs.
To the guest suite.
The moment the door closed behind us, she turned.
And laughed softly.
“You’re braver than I expected.”
I said nothing.
She circled me slowly.
Like she was inspecting me.
“You know,” she said, “I almost felt bad for you last night.”
I kept my expression blank.
“Almost?”
Her smile sharpened.
“Then I remembered how pathetic it must feel.”
She stopped directly in front of me.
“To watch another woman receive what you never will.”
My fingers curled slightly.
Still, I remained silent.
She seemed irritated by that.
Good.
Then she gestured toward the vanity.
“Help me get dressed.”
My stomach tightened.
But I obeyed.
As I stood behind her, helping fasten the delicate hooks of her expensive dress, she watched me through the mirror.
“Did he tell you about us?”
I said nothing.
She smiled.
“He proposed months ago.”
My hands stilled for half a second.
Lie.
It had to be.
Yet the words still stung.
“He says I understand him in ways no one else can.”
Still I remained silent.
She leaned back slightly.
“He hates weak women.”
That one landed.
Because deep down, I knew it was true.
But then I remembered Ana’s words.
Silence starves them.
So calmly, I finished fastening the dress.
Then I met her eyes in the mirror.
“If that were true,” I said softly, “he would not need to keep reminding everyone how much power he has.”
The room went still.
Her smile vanished.
And for a second, pure irritation flashed across her face.
“There’s that tongue again,” she murmured.
I stepped back.
“Are you done?”
Her eyes narrowed.
Clearly, she hadn’t expected resistance.
Not from me.
---
Later that afternoon, one of the maids approached me.
“Mad—”
She caught herself.
“Anaya. Samira wants you upstairs. Now.”
A knot formed in my stomach.
I climbed the stairs slowly.
The corridor was unusually quiet.
When I reached her room, the door was slightly open.
I knocked softly.
No answer.
So I pushed it open.
And froze.
My breath caught painfully in my throat.
Samira was pressed against him.
Her hands gripping his shirt.
His face lowered close to hers.
Their bodies far too close.
The sight hit me like a slap.
For one terrible second, everything inside me cracked.
The humiliation.
The betrayal.
The memory of the little girl who had once imagined him as her prince.
All of it came rushing back at once.
Samira’s lips curved against his.
And then—
She opened her eyes.
And looked directly at me.
She had wanted this.
She had called me here for this.
My stomach churned violently.
I turned sharply—
And nearly collided with the side table.
The vase atop it crashed to the floor.
The sound shattered the moment.
Zayaan’s head snapped up.
Our eyes met.
And for the first time in days—
my control slipped.
Pain.
Raw and unguarded.
It flashed across my face before I could stop it.
His expression changed.
Just slightly.
As though he had seen something he hadn’t expected.
Samira straightened immediately.
Feigning innocence.
“Oh dear,” she said sweetly.
“Were you standing there long?”
I couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t breathe.
I turned and rushed out.
---
I barely made it to the washroom before throwing up.
My entire body shook.
Tears burned behind my eyes.
No.
No.
I would not cry.
I gripped the sink tightly, breathing hard.
“Ya Allah…”
The whisper broke from my lips.
I performed wudu again.
The cold water steadied me.
Then I stood right there and prayed two rak’ahs.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I needed to.
When I finished, the trembling had eased.
And so had the pain.
Not gone.
Never gone.
But controlled.
By evening, I had rebuilt my mask.
And apparently, that infuriated Samira.
At dinner, she kept watching me.
Waiting for signs of weakness.
She found none.
Then came her next move.
A sharp gasp broke the silence.
“My bracelet!”
Everyone froze.
She stood suddenly.
The expensive diamond bracelet she had been wearing that morning was gone.
“It was on my dresser.”
Her gaze swept the room.
Then landed on me.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The accusation was immediate.
“I know who took it.”
The room erupted into shocked murmurs.
My blood ran cold.
No.
She couldn’t.
She smiled coldly.
“Search her room.”
And just then—
the front doors opened.
Zayaan had returned from his evening Jog.
The room fell silent instantly.
His sharp gaze swept over everyone.
“What is going on?”
Samira stepped forward.
“My bracelet is missing.”
A pause.
Then she looked directly at me.
“And I believe she stole it.”
My heart pounded violently.
This was it.
The trap.
And from the look in her eyes—
she was certain it would work.
Zayaan’s gaze shifted to me.
Unreadable.
Cold.
Dangerously still.
Then he spoke.
“Search her room.”
The words hit like ice.
Minutes later, one of the guards returned.
Holding the bracelet.
The entire room gasped.
Samira’s lips curved slowly.
Victory.
I stared at the bracelet in disbelief.
I had never seen it before.
My throat tightened.
This was impossible.
Then his voice cut through the silence.
Low.
Controlled.
“Bring Anaya to my study.”
My name rolled from his tongue for the first time ever, During our childhood he either called me Ameer's Foolish sister or i***t.
I almost forgot why he said my name, Cos if his Slut.
"Now!" He yelled.
And just like that—
the floor seemed to vanish beneath me.
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