"You have known me right from the childhood. I take what i want. And this time i will...." His smirk deepened as he looked down at her body.

Hridhaya's cheeks burned. "Shut up. Dont you dare!!!!You are behaving like a cheap bollywood villian." She clucked her tongue.

"Bollywood villian never gets the girl but here I have got you here. Right in my room." he laughed. "You are so silly Hridhaya... still clinging to the illusion that your smart mouth will save you today. Look at me Hridhaya......can you fight me with your tiny 5 feet frame? " His grip on her wrists tightened slightly, a silent reminder of the undeniable difference in strength.

And he was right. Physically, she couldn't overpower him.

But power wasn't just about strength.

If she couldn't fight him with force, she'd have to outplay him with words.

Hridhaya gritted her teeth. "You hate me remember? We can never make love. "

He let out a mock sigh and let her hands go and held her shoulders gently, "Who said i am going to make love to you? i don't need love for what i am going to do to you."

Her body locked up.

His voice dropped into something sinful, dark, dripping with danger.

"Ever heard of hate sex?"

She froze.

The air between them shifted, thickened, became something entirely different.

Her pulse pounded against her throat. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, fight back, insult him—but the words wouldn't come.

Karthick noticed.

And he thrived on it.

His lips curled, victorious, taunting.

"Oh," he murmured, voice mocking, slow, "so you do know what it means. Rough.....wild...."

Hridhaya's lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

"Where's that Jhansi Ki Rani whose tongue used to slice through me like a sword?" he taunted, his smirk deepening. "What happened? Lost your fire, or did I finally find a way to shut you up?" he teased.

He watched her, his gaze dripping with control, with dominance, with something raw and untamed.

She snapped out of it, yanking her hand away. "You're disgusting."

Karthick let out a low chuckle and held her shoulders, "And i am your husband now. Your family gave me all the rights on you."

Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She knew it.

She had lost the battle.

This pathetic excuse of a human being was right about one thing—her family had handed him complete rights over her.

But she couldn't blame them entirely.

She had chosen this.

She had walked into this marriage willingly, not for herself, but because she wanted her mother to finally have a life of her own. Her mother had been a dance teacher all her life, sacrificing everything, giving up her own dreams, living paycheck to paycheck just to raise her children.

This opportunity in the U.S. would have set her free. Give her enough money. For the first time, she could have lived for herself—cooked what she liked, traveled where she wanted, most of all have financial security for once in her life.

After her brother's job, things had improved, but he was still paying off his educational loans, and soon, there was Hridhaya's own college fees. She knew her mother struggled to manage everything being a single parent.

Her mother wouldn't take the job if it meant leaving Hridhaya alone in a hostel.

So Hridhaya had done the only thing she could. She had married this arrogant, heartless bastard to secure her mother's future. So that she can live a little.

And now, he was forcing himself on her. This was what the world never talked about. This was marital rape.

And she—the girl who had spent years reading and writing about love on wattpad, about romance, about heroes who worshipped their women—was about to become a victim.

Her entire perspective on love and marriage was about to shatter.

She was going to hate men.

She was going to hate romance.

Because after tonight, she would never be the same again.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, slipping past the tremble of her lips. Her knees gave way beneath her, her body folding into itself, slumping toward the cold, unforgiving floor, her back still leaning on the wall.

His hands were still on her shoulders—large, unyielding, foreign. He got onto his knees along with her as she slupmed down against the wall.

But she wasn't fighting him anymore.

Karthick stood still, watching her like she was something fragile, something he had never seen before—because this wasn't the Hridhaya he knew.

Not the girl who could slice through egos with the sharp edge of her tongue.

Not the girl who stood taller than her height, braver than her size.

This girl—this trembling, broken thing before him—was unfamiliar.

And it hit him like a crashing wave.

What had he done?

He was just trying to scare her. He had meant to tease. To show him who was in control. To corner her with words, to watch her rage and spit fire like she always did. He had wanted to see her fists clench, to hear her call him a hundred names before storming off and never mess with him.

He had wanted to push her. But not break her.

Yet there she was.

Unmoving. Unfighting. Unrecognizable. So unhridhaya.

She wasn't yelling.
She wasn't shoving him away.
She wasn't looking at him with those sharp, defiant eyes that always screamed "try me".

She was crying.

Not loudly.

Not in the way that demanded attention or to alert any other family members.

But in the kind of way that made him feel like the worst kind of monster.

A sound that was barely there—a whimper, a silent plea, a shattering so quiet it echoed louder than any scream.

His chest tightened painfully.

"Hridhaya..." His voice barely made it out, thick with something unnamed, unfamiliar, unwanted. "I—I'm sorry. Please, look at me."

She held her knees tightly against her chest, crying more.

And Karthick, for the first time in his life, felt like a man who had won a war he never wanted to fight. And yet, somehow, he had still lost everything. Karthick ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his voice wavering between urgency and guilt.

"Hridhaya, it was just a prank. Trust me, I was—"

She looked at him disgusted, her eyes peering into his spine. But before he could finish, she snapped.

Her voice, shaking, raw, stripped of all the fire it usually carried, cut through the air like a blade.

"You know, you are a truly cruel person. i had always known you are but this is even........"

Karthick froze. Her chest heaved, her eyes shimmering with tears.

"You like me or not," she continued, voice breaking, "I have left my family and moved into your house. Do you have any idea what a girl feels when she is forced to leave behind everything she's ever known—her home, her people, her mother? Do you know how terrifying it is to wake up in a house that isn't yours? To have your entire life change overnight? "

Karthick's stomach twisted painfully. She shook her head, her body trembling.

"Not to mention I am thrown into the arms of a man who hates me and treats me like a joke."

Her breath hitched, a sob barely contained.

"And then," she let out a shaky laugh, one that sounded anything but amused, "as if that wasn't enough, as if my world hadn't already been torn apart, you—an insensitive, arrogant prick—thought it would be fun to throw a prank like this at me? i thought you were going to assault me, you idiot."

Her eyes flashing with hurt, with fury, with something shattered beyond repair.

"You are more nasty than I thought."

Karthick felt his throat close up, felt something crack inside him.

Her words, sharp and unforgiving, sliced through his chest, but it wasn't the usual sting of Hridhaya's anger. It was deeper, colder, heavier.

"Imagine the same thing happening to your sister, Sakshi, on her wedding night."

The breath he didn't know he was holding left his body in a slow, painful exhale.

Sakshi.

His baby sister. His blood ran cold.

Imagine her, standing alone in a room that didn't feel like hers, surrounded by strangers, her heart hammering as she realized she belonged to a man she didn't choose.

Imagine her trapped, powerless against a cruel husband who thought it was funny to taunt her, to test her limits, to remind her that she had nowhere else to go.

Imagine her trembling, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep her pride intact, while her husband stood there, smirking, amused at her fear.

Imagine her pleading, breaking, crumbling.

His stomach twisted violently.

If any man—any man—had spoken to Sakshi the way he had just spoken to Hridhaya, commanded her with the same arrogance, played with her emotions so carelessly...

He would have killed him.

No hesitation. No mercy.

And yet, here he was. That man.

The monster in someone else's story.

"Imagine my brother treating her like you just treated me."

The room suddenly felt too small, suffocating.

"If my mother knows this, how will she ever leave for the US peacefully?"

Hridhaya's voice was breaking now, each word laced with a pain he couldn't unhear.

Her mother. The woman who had given up everything for her children, who had sacrificed her dreams, who had worked endlessly just to ensure that her kids never felt the weight of her struggles.

She had trusted him.

Trusted that he would take care of her daughter.

That he would at least respect her.

And what had he done?

He had humiliated her.

He had made her feel small, helpless, trapped.

He had turned their wedding night into something that would haunt her forever.

"Karthick, I knew this marriage would never have love. I didn't even expect respect.

But this? This is pure humiliation."

Each word landed like a gut punch.

"Showing me how you can control me, just because you are a man, you are physically strong and i have no where else to go because of my situation."

His hands clenched into fists.

He wasn't that man.

He never wanted to be that man.

And yet... he had just proved himself wrong.

"I don't have words to describe this."

And for the first time in his life, neither did he.

She pushed him away, hard, her strength fueled by nothing but heartbreak.

Before he could say another word, she spun around, sprinting to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

And all he could do was stand there, staring at the door that separated them, feeling—for the first time in his life—like he had done something truly unforgivable.

********

Hridhaya stared at her reflection.

Mascara smudged. Not in a sexy, teary-eyed heroine way, but in a 'ghost from a horror movie' way. A bride's worst nightmare.

With an irritated sigh, she ripped off her jewelry—gold bangles, heavy necklaces, earrings—all landing with a loud clatter on the washroom counter.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled out the pin from her blouse, loosening it slightly, exhaling in frustration.

What have you done to yourself, Hridhaya?

You always knew he was a walking disaster wrapped in arrogance, a spoiled, self-absorbed, rich brat with the emotional depth of a steel spoon.

Yet you married him.

Your fault.

What did you expect? A miracle? Some hidden, soft-hearted lover buried beneath his jerk exterior? Idiot.

Somewhere, deep down, in the most delusional part of you, you thought things might change.

You were wrong.

Men like him don't change.

They just get worse.

She yanked off her earrings and was about to rip off her lehenga when realization hit her like a truck. Shit. She had no other clothes.

In the chaos of the wedding, her packed suitcases had been left behind. Her brother promised her that he would be bring later. But now, later meant tomorrow.

Which meant... She had to sleep in this damn 40 kg lehenga.

Fantastic.

A deep sigh escaped her lips, her shoulders slumping. Her blouse was tight enough to cut off circulation. The lehenga felt like she was dragging a tent behind her. And to top it all off, outside that door sat a six-foot taliless ape whose favorite pastime was making her miserable.

She was regretting every choice already when she heard a knock on the door. She heard a knock. Hridhaya's eye twitched. Fuck. It was him. Because of course he wouldn't let her be.

She could already picture his smug face, his next planned 'prank.' Not again. Her eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for a weapon, a warning, anything.

Towels? Useless.
Shampoo? Maybe blind him for few minutes, if she had good aim.
Candles? May be she can burn him a little, but it was not the perfect weapon.

Then her eyes landed on something. His razor. Perfect. She grabbed it, gripping it tightly, her fingers curling around it like a soldier preparing for war. With one deep breath, she walked to the door.

The moment she cracked it open, his hand reached forward. Instinct took over. Before she could process, before she could even think—she swiped. A sharp, clean slice across his forearm.

"OW! WHAT THE—" Karthick staggered back, his eyes widening, his free hand clutching the bleeding cut.

Something dropped from his hands. She looked down. A set of pajamas. Her breath hitched. Karthick had already changed into his own, noticed that none of her things were here, and—

He had brought her clothes. ...And she had bladed him. The room was silent. Hridhaya's eyes flickered to his wound. Then back to his stupidly calm face.

Karthick sighed dramatically, glancing at the cut as more blood pooled. "Well, I expected a disastrous first night, but attempted murder? That's new."

Hridhaya froze, razor still in hand. "I—I thought you were—"

He held up a hand. "Let me guess. Creeping in to claim my 'husband rights'? So you went full psycho mode?"

She crossed her arms. "Reflex."

Karthick sighed, bending down to pick up the pajama set. He held it out, voice softer.

"Here. Before that bridal tent crushes you."

Hridhaya hesitated. he said, " I observed your things are not yet here. And this dress is new."

She took the dress as she didn't have any other option. Karthick exhaled shakily, running a hand over his face. "You can relax, Jhansi Ki Rani," he murmured, his voice no longer teasing, no longer sharp—just low, almost regretful. "I may be arrogant, but I would never force myself on you. Not now, not ever."

Hridhaya didn't react. She stood there, silent, unreadable, clutching the clothes he had brought her like a lifeline. And that silence burned. Karthick swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry, Hridhaya. I really mean it. I never should have pushed you like that. I thought I was irritating you, like always, but I—" He ran a hand through his hair, voice breaking slightly. "i thought i will scare you a little so that you don't trouble me when we share the same room. But I went too far. And the moment I saw your tears..."

He let out a shaky breath.

"It tore something inside me. And I hated myself for it. And now without any hesitation i agree i really feel ashamed for what i did. And this razor cut, i deserved it."

Her lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came.

That hurt more than her insults ever had.

"I may be an ass, Hridhaya, but I am not that man. I would never force myself on anyone—least of all, my own wife."

He took a small step back, giving her the space he had stolen from her earlier.

"You and your chastity will always be safe with me. I swear it. I will never cross my limits. Not tonight. Not ever."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Karthick felt his stomach cave in. He had hurt her. Deeply.

he put both his hands together and said, "I am sorry Hridhaya."

Without a word, she shut the door in his face. Karthick stared at the closed door, exhaling sharply. For the first time in his life, he wished she had yelled at him instead.