Chapter 3: The Room
236 Words
Chapter 3: The Room
The car stopped.
Zara didn’t look up. Her hands were still chained to the door handle. Her wrists were red.
The door opened. Not her side. His.
Orhaan Khan.
He didn’t speak. He just unbuckled the chain from the car like it was nothing. Like she was luggage.
“Out.” One word. Cold.
She stepped out on shaky legs.
And froze.
A mansion. Black marble. Glass walls. London rain on the roof. Too big. Too empty. Too much like a prison.
“Is this your debt collection room?” she whispered. Her voice broke.
Orhaan’s jaw tightened. He grabbed her arm. Not hard. Just firm. Like he was scared she’d run.
“No,” he said. His voice was low, angry. “This is my house. And now, it’s your cage.”
He dragged her inside. Guards looked down. No one spoke.
Up the stairs. Down a hallway. He stopped at a black door.
He pushed it open.
A bedroom. Huge bed. Dark curtains. No windows. Only one door.
Her room.
Zara’s knees gave out. She sat on the floor. Tears finally fell.
“I’m not your wife,” she cried. “I’m your prisoner.”
Orhaan stood in the doorway. Watching her. His eyes were black. Possessive. Furious.
“You’re mine now, Zara,” he said. “And prisoners don’t get to choose.”
He closed the door.
*Click.*
Lock.
- Writer
