"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M DEEP INSIDE YOU."
He's a mafia king who hides his madness in silk suits.
She's a college girl who shines too brightly for his dark world.
When Rudhransh Agniwanshi sees Prisha, he decides:
"She's mine. She just doesn't know it y...
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As she sat in front of the dressing table, her eyes fell upon the Mangalsutra, now perfectly restored, alongside a sindoor box. The same Mangalsutra she had broken in a fit of rage just the night before. She knew exactly who had fixed it - her so-called husband, the devil incarnate. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about him, her mind replaying the memories of the previous night. She had woken up to find herself in the bed, surrounded by a multitude of pillows, with no sign of Rudhransh in the room. On the bedside table, she had found a box containing a set of clothes, which she had worn after bathing. The clothes were elegant and expensive, but she didn't care about any of that. All she cared about was the fact that she was trapped in this marriage, and that Rudhransh seemed to be always one step ahead of her.
Now, as she gazed at the Mangalsutra and sindoor box, her eyes felt empty, devoid of any emotion. She felt like a pawn in a game, a game that she didn't want to play.
"I will not wear them," her mind whispered, a stubborn determination rising within her. But her heart countered,
"But you are married, you should wear these things." She felt a pang of frustration, her thoughts in turmoil.
"So what if I'm married?" she thought. "He married me forcefully, and I didn't accept this marriage. Why should I wear these symbols of purity and marriage? Why should I pretend to be something I'm not?" She looked at the Mangalsutra and sindoor box with disdain, feeling like they were a constant reminder of her captivity.
As she was lost in her thoughts, her eyes wandered to her phone, and an urge began to build up inside her to call her family. She picked up her phone, and her father's number was the first one on her contact list. Tears slipped from her eyes as she remembered the hurt and anger in her father's eyes for her. The memory still felt like a fresh wound, and the pain was still raw and unbearable. Her hands trembled as she thought about calling him, but before she could muster up the courage, she heard the door open, and the devil himself walked in.
Her face fell, and she quickly wiped away her tears, looking away from him in an attempt to compose herself. She tried to put on a brave face, but she knew she couldn't hide her emotions from Rudhransh. He was too perceptive, too intuitive. "Let's come, breakfast is ready," Rudhransh said, his voice low and husky, as he noticed the tears on her face. His eyes seemed to bore into her soul .
Prisha didn't reply to him, instead, she wiped away her tears again, trying to erase the evidence of her weakness. She felt vulnerable, exposed, and she didn't want Rudhransh to see her like that. She tried to put up a wall around herself, to protect herself from his prying eyes. But Rudhransh was not one to be deterred. He moved closer to her, his footsteps echoing in the room, and Prisha turned to look at him, her eyes widening slightly as she realized he was not going to stop.
She took a step back, and then another, and another, until her back hit the wall. Rudhransh reached out to her, and Prisha looked down, unknowingly, as she felt a wave of emotions wash over her. She was feeling broken, defeated, and trapped. She felt like she was losing herself, like she was drowning in a sea of despair. She fisted her hands, trying to hold on to what little control she had left.
