🔞 Emotional intensity and dark possessiveness ahead
The first night of the deal arrived like a sentence.
Meher sat on the edge of their bed, the silence between her and Kabir louder than any storm.
He entered the room slowly, eyes shadowed, shirt half-open. He looked at her—not like a man looks at a woman—but like a master watches something he’s already claimed.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“I’m preparing,” she replied softly.
“For pain?”
“For surrender.”
Kabir smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s what I like about you, jaan. You break so beautifully… and yet you don’t beg.”
He stepped closer, dragging his fingers down her arm, stopping at her wrist—the one he always grabbed.
“You think I want to hurt you?” he asked.
She didn’t answer.
“I want to own you,” he whispered against her ear, “not just your body… but your breath, your silence, your fight.”
Meher’s eyes welled with tears—but she didn’t let them fall.
“You already have everything,” she said. “You don’t need my soul too.”
He tilted her chin. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
And when his lips finally touched hers, it wasn’t passion.
It was war.
Because for Kabir Rathore…
Possession wasn’t about love.
It was about control.
And Meher, for the first time, didn’t know—
If she wanted to escape.
Or if she wanted to be ruined.
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