"Uthh!"

[Get upp]

With that, Adyant yanked Netrakshi from the bed by fisting her hair.

"Tujhse ek kaam nahi hota, na raat ko bistar garam kar pati hai aur na subah garam khana de pati hai, tujh jaiso ko izzat raas nahi aati."

[You can't do a single thing, neither can you warm the bed at night nor can you give me hot food in the morning, girls like you don't deserve respect]

The sharp pain on her scalp tore her out of sleep. For a second, she couldn't tell if it was another nightmare or real, until the sting of his grip confirmed it.

Her eyes opened to the familiar horror of her husband's rage. She whimpered, trying to shield herself, but his grip only tightened.He yanked her with such force that she let out a cry, waking abruptly.

Adyant pushed her off the bed like she was nothing more than garbage, her body hitting the cold floor with a thud. Before she could react, a glass of water splashed across her face.

"Time dekha hai tune? 9 baj gaye hai mera breakfast kaha hai? Tujhe kya laga tujhe rani bana ke rakhunga? Bloody whore, tu mere ghar ki naukrani banne ke bhi layak nahi hai. Ab chal uth aur sabka naashta laga. And remember, one more fault and I'll kick that ass of yours. Chal jaa yaha se ab!"

[Have you seen the time? It's 9 o'clock, where is my breakfast? What did you think, I'll make you my queen? Bloody whore, you are not even worthy of becoming my house's maid. Now get up and serve breakfast to everyone. And remember, one more mistake and I'll kick that ass of yours. Now get out of here]

And with that, he kicked her in the abdomen. She curled up instinctively, her breath knocked out of her lungs. The pain wasn't new, her body had grown used to bruises, but the ache inside her soul was worse, deeper, unhealed.

This had become routine for Netrakshi, wake up every day only to be humiliated and abused by the man she once called her world. Every morning, she prayed for a little mercy, a little kindness, but nothing ever came.

Her life had become a cycle of cruelty and despair.Sometimes, in the rare moments she was alone, she stared blankly into the mirror, trying to recognize herself. Where was the girl who used to dream of love, of warmth?

All she saw now was a hollow shell, a ghost in her own body.The days were merciless, and the nights even more brutal. Adyant used her body like she was nothing but a whore, without any ounce of love, affection or respect. Just flesh to be conquered, controlled, and discarded.

Every night, she felt filthy in her own skin. She would lie still, eyes open in the dark, tears soaking into the pillow, silently begging for it to stop. The man who once held her like a treasure now treated her worse than dirt.

She couldnt understand what had gone so terribly wrong. Of all the people in the world, Adyant had been her only beacon, her hope, her family. Now, he was her curse.

Netrakshi stepped into the washroom, a fresh bruise darkening her skin. Just when the old ones had started to fade, Adyant made sure new ones took their place.

The same Adyant who once swore he'd burn the world for her... was now the one willing to burn her too.

After freshening up, Netrakshi stepped out of the washroom and began getting ready to go downstairs and prepare breakfast.

Just then, Adyant walked into the room, still in his gym shorts-clearly straight from his workout.

He glanced at his wife, who was standing in front of the mirror, combing her hair. She was dressed in a red sari with a sleeveless blouse that hugged her figure perfectly.

The way she looks catches his attention, but instead of appreciating her, his reaction is possessive and controlling.

When he says,

"Ye blouse kisse puchh kar pehna hai tune?"

[Who did you ask before wearing this blouse?]

He's not just asking a simple question. His tone is sharp and accusing, which suggests anger or jealousy. He's questioning her choice of clothing, implying that she needs his permission to wear something he finds too revealing.

Netrakshi paused for a moment, her hand frozen mid-air, the comb still tangled in her hair. She didn't turn around, but her eyes met his through the mirror-wide, hesitant, and filled with a fear she had grown used to hiding. The mere sound of his voice, that sharp edge in his tone, was enough to send a chill down her spine.

"Wo... maine socha..."

[Um... I just thought...]

She began, her voice barely above a whisper, struggling to find the right words. Her throat felt dry, and the rest of the sentence stuck somewhere between fear and self-preservation.

But Adyant wasn't in the mood for half-answers.

"Socha? Tujhe lagta hai sochne ka haq hai tujhe?"

[Thought? You think you have the right to think?]

He snapped, stepping closer.

"Tu meri biwi hai, aur meri marzi ke bina kuch bhi pehnegi toh jawab dena padega."

[You're my wife, and if you wear anything without my permission, you'll have to answer for it]

Her fingers trembled as she gently lowered the comb, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what came next-she'd seen this pattern too many times.

"I'm sorry... main change kar leti hoon,"

[I'm sorry... I'll change it]

She murmured, lowering her eyes to the floor, her voice barely audible.

There was no defiance in her tone, only exhaustion-like someone too tired to fight, too worn out to argue.

She turned quietly and began walking toward the closet, clutching the edge of her sari tightly in her fist, hoping to get through the moment without more confrontation.

But his voice stopped her cold.

"Did I say you can go?"

His words were sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. She froze mid-step, her back still to him, her body stiff with tension. Her fingers curled tighter around the fabric, holding back the storm rising within her.

She didn't turn around this time. She didn't ask why. Because she already knew-this wasn't about the blouse. It was about control. Again.

Her breath caught in her throat at his next word.

"Strip."

Just one word. Cold. Commanding. Void of any tenderness.

She slowly turned to face him, her eyes searching his for a trace of the man he once was. But all she found was indifference, as if her pain no longer mattered to him.

Her fingers trembled as they reached for the pallu draped over her shoulder. Shame burned through her, but she forced herself to stay still. Not out of obedience-but out of fear. A fear that had taken root long ago and now lived with her like a shadow.

She unclasped the pallu from her shoulder, her eyes never leaving his. There was no desire in his gaze-just power. Control. And the cruel satisfaction of knowing she wouldn't disobey him.

The red fabric slid from her shoulder and fell softly to the floor, the sound far too loud in the suffocating silence between them.

Adyant didn't move. He didn't speak. He only watched-his expression unreadable, detached, like she was something he owned, not someone he loved.

Netrakshi stood still, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest-not to seduce, but to shield. She was not a wife in that moment. Not a woman. Just a body in a battle she never chose to fight.

A tear slid silently down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it away.

"Now kneel."

The command landed heavier than the last.

His voice is cold and unyielding. Netrakshi hesitated, her eyes filling with tears. She didn't want this. She never wanted this. But she knew what would happen if she refused. She had seen the bruises on her arms, the cuts on her face. She had felt the sting of his hand, the pain of his fists. She had no choice. She slowly lowered herself to her knees, her eyes never leaving his.

Adyant smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He unzipped his shorts, his erection springing free. He grabbed Netrakshi's hair, pulling her towards him.

"Suck,"

He ordered, his grip tightening. Netrakshi's heart raced as she wrapped her lips around his dick, her mind screaming in protest. But she had no choice. She had to do this. She had to please him.

"Take it like a good slut you are"

Adyant's face twisted into a cruel smile as he grasped the back of Netrakshi's head, pulling it towards him like a puppeteer controlling its marionette.

She watched his reaction, the way his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the tension in his jaw loosening slightly

Adyant's cock slid in and out of her mouth with a fast rhythm. Netrakshi felt his hands tighten around her head as he began to fuck her face, his hips bucking forward with increasing intensity.

She gagged slightly as he hit the back of her throat, but Adyant didn't care. He just kept pushing deeper and harder until she was coughing and sputtering around him. But still he didn't stop.

Netrakshi's mind reeled as she tried to process what was happening. She knew this was what Adyant wanted - for her to submit completely to him - but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

As she struggled to breathe through the saliva pooling in her mouth, Adyant reached down and grasped one of her nipples between his fingers. He pinched hard enough that tears sprang into Netrakshi's eyes as he twisted it cruelly.

"Look at me,"

He hissed, his voice low and menacing.

Netrakshi's gaze locked onto Adyant's as he twisted her nipple harder. She felt a wave of pain wash over her, but she knew better than to look away. That was what Adyant wanted - for her to be completely under his control.

As she gazed up at him, Adyant's fingers tightened around her head once more. He began to fuck her mouth with renewed vigor, his cock pounding against the back of her throat like a piston.

Tears streamed down Netrakshi's face as she struggled to breathe through the saliva and snot pooling in her mouth. But still Adyant didn't stop. He just kept pushing deeper and harder until she was coughing and gagging around him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Adyant's body tensed as he reached his climax, his fingers tangling in Netrakshi's hair as he came inside her mouth.

"Swallow it"

After hearing those humiliating words, Netrakshi's heart sank deeper than she thought it could. Her hands shook, her lips quivered, and for a moment, she sat frozen-every part of her wanting to disappear, to vanish into nothingness.

But she didn't speak. She didn't protest. Because she knew by now-there was no space for refusal, no room for dignity in this house. Just survival.

So, with trembling hands and eyes that had long forgotten how to cry, she did what he said. Not out of obedience, not out of submission-but because she had no choice. Her silence was her only armor now.

His voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

"This is your place-on my legs."

His were laced with ownership, with cruel pride-as if reducing her to nothing gave him power.

Netrakshi didn't lift her head. She couldn't. Shame burned through her skin like fire, but she held herself steady.

"Now wash yourself and change this piece of shit,"

He snapped, eyes scanning her with cold disgust,

"and go to the kitchen. Do your work."

The harshness of his words hit harder than any slap. Netrakshi didn't respond. She simply rose to her feet, slowly, carefully-like her body carried the weight of a hundred invisible wounds. Her sari lay crumpled on the floor beside her, a silent witness to yet another moment of humiliation.

She gathered it without a word, clutching the fabric to her chest, and walked toward the closet. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she didn't falter. She had learned how to move through pain. How to hide her bruises behind silence. How to make tea with trembling hands.

˚༺☆༻˚

Netrakshi She came downstairs and found her mother-in-law Gitanjali setting the breakfast table, already halfway through the preparations.

"Ma, aap kyun kar rahi hain yeh sab? Main toh aa hi rahi thi,"

[Ma, why are you doing all this? I was just about to come]

Netrakshi said, hurrying over.

Gitanjali offered a gentle smile and replied,

"Koi baat nahi, beta. Tum poora din kaam karti ho, thoda maine kar diya toh kya ho gaya? Aur agar ye (her husband, Agraj) kisi naukar ko kitchen ya table ke aas-paas bhi dekh lenge, toh fir se gussa ho jayenge."

[It's alright, dear. You work the whole day-what's the harm if I did a little? And if he (her husband, Agraj) sees any servant near the kitchen or the table, he'll get angry again]

There was affection in her tone, but beneath it lay a quiet weariness. She, too, had learned to navigate the fragile egos of the men in the house-not out of respect, but out of survival. Staying one step ahead of their temper had become second nature.

"Aap chhodiye, main kar leti hoon,"

[Leave it, I'll do it]

Netrakshi said softly, reaching to take over.

"Nahi beta, tum bas nashta banao. Yeh sab main kar loongi,"

[No, you just make the breakfast. I'll take care of all this,]

Gitanjali replied gently.

"Aur Mimansa ke liye kuch halka banana... she's pregnant, na. Isiliye main usse kitchen mein bhi nahi aane de rahi hoon."

[And make something light for Mimansa... she's pregnant, you know. That's why I'm not even letting her come into the kitchen]

There was care in her voice-genuine concern for her daughter in law Mimansa's well-being-but also that quiet, tired tone of a woman who had long adjusted to everyone's needs but her own.

Just then, a sharp voice cut through the calm of the kitchen. It was Maitree-Gitanjali's devrani (sister in law)

"Pregnant hai toh kya hua didi? Koi kaam nahi karegi kya wo?"

[So what if she's pregnant, di? Does that mean she won't do any work?]

She said with a scoff.

"ek hafta bhi nahi hue shaadi ko, aur madam toh subah 10 baje se pehle kamre se nikalti hi nahi hain."

[It hasn't even been a week since the wedding, and madam doesn't even step out of her room before 10 in the morning]

Her words dripped with sarcasm and disapproval,

"Koi baat nahi, Maitree,"

[It's alright, Maitree]

Gitanjali said calmly, trying to defuse the tension.

"Bahu hai iss ghar ki, ab thoda soft ho jao."

[She's the daughter-in-law of this house now-try to be a little soft with her]

But Maitree wasn't ready to let it go. Her bitterness slipped out, sharp and unapologetic.

"Bahu kya? Jabardasti ki bahu ban gayi hai bas. Devansh ki galti ka nateeja hai yeh sab."

[Daughter-in-law? She's only become one by force. All of this is just the result of Devansh's mistake]

Gitanjali sighed, her voice low but firm-laced with the weight of truth she couldn't deny.

"Galti Devansh ki hi thi, ye main jaanti hoon."

[Yes, it was Devansh's mistake-I know that,]

She glanced at Maitree, her tone softening.

"Par ab jo ho gaya, use badla toh nahi ja sakta. Humein ab sambhalna hoga."

[But what's done is done. We can't change the past. Now, we have to handle things moving forward]

Her words weren't just for Maitree-they were a quiet reminder to everyone that some mistakes can't be undone, only lived through.

"NETRAKSHI!"

Adyant's voice thundered from upstairs, sharp and commanding.

Netrakshi flinched slightly, her hands freezing mid-task. The sound of his voice still had the same effect-it made her heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons.

Maitree rolled her eyes and said coldly,

"khadi kyun ho? Jaake dekho na, kyun bula raha hai."

[Why are you still standing here? Go and see why he's calling you]

There was no concern in her voice, only irritation-as if Netrakshi being summoned like a servant was the most natural thing in the world.

.

.

Netrakshi quietly walked toward the room, her footsteps hesitant. As she entered, she saw Adyant buttoning his shirt, getting ready for the office.

Without looking at her, he snapped,

"Ek baar mein sunai nahi deta tujhe?"

[Can't you hear me the first time I call you?]

His tone was cold, impatient-as if her mere delay was an offense.

She lowered her gaze, swallowing the lump in her throat, and quietly replied,

"Sorry..."

Adyant turned toward the wardrobe, frustration creeping into his voice.

"Where is my black coat?"

He asked sharply, not bothering to look at her.

Netrakshi quickly stepped forward, opening the side cupboard where she had neatly hung it the night before.

"Yahan rakha tha maine... ek minute,"

[I had kept it here... just a minute]

She said softly, already pulling it out before he could lose his temper further.

She handed him the black coat carefully, trying not to meet his eyes.

Adyant snatched it from her hand without a word, slipping it on as he checked himself in the mirror.

"Fix my tie properly,"

He said curtly, standing still, waiting-like it was her duty.

Netrakshi moved closer, her hands slightly trembling as she adjusted his tie, her eyes focused on the knot, not his face. The air between them was heavy with silence, the kind that didn't need words to feel suffocating.

As she finished adjusting his tie, Adyant's voice broke the silence again.

"Devansh utha?"

[Has Devansh woken up?]

He asked, his tone still stern but calmer than before.

Netrakshi stepped back slightly and nodded,

"Nahi... abhi tak nahi uthe."

[No... he hasn't woken up yet]

Adyant glanced at the clock, jaw tightening.

"Roz ki tarah late hi uthega. Usse bolna nashte ke baad seedha office aaye, aur time pe aaye."

[He'll wake up late like always. Tell him to come straight to the office after breakfast-and be on time]

She simply nodded in response, lowering her eyes.

But that wasn't enough for Adyant.

"Zubaan nahi hai muh mein tere? Kaat doon use?"

[You don't have a tongue in your mouth? Should I cut it out?]

His words cut deeper than any silence ever could-sharp, humiliating, meant to remind her of her place.

Netrakshi swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in her eyes, and whispered,

"Main keh dungi..."

[I'll tell him...]

Adyant picked up some files and gave her one last cold glance.

"Ab mera muh kyun dekh rahi ho? Jaakar nashta lagao,"

[Why are you still staring at me? Go and serve breakfast]

He ordered, like she was just another worker in the house, not his wife.

Netrakshi quickly turned away, her heart heavy but her face blank-like she'd trained it to be.

"Ji,"

She whispered, and quietly walked out of the room.

˚༺☆༻˚

At the breakfast table, all the men of the family were seated comfortably-chatting, reading the newspaper, sipping tea. Plates were being filled, water was being poured, and fresh fruits, juice and parathas kept arriving one after another.

The women, on the other hand, moved around silently-serving, adjusting, making sure nothing was missing. It was an unspoken rule of the house: this was their duty.

Despite having house help for every task, the kitchen remained off-limits to the servants. "All the kitchen and food-related work will be done only by the women of the house" someone had once said, and that rule was carved in stone ever since.

No one questioned it anymore. Not even the women.

They had learned to carry their silence like second nature, even when their hands were full and their feet ached.

"Papa, kal Malhotra ki meeting hai,"

[Papa, there's a meeting with the Malhotras tomorrow,]

Adyant said while taking a sip of tea, eyes focused on his father, Agraj.

"So?"

Agraj responded without looking up from the newspaper, his tone uninterested.

"Toh main soch raha tha... Devansh sambhal lega ye,"

[So I was thinking... maybe Devansh could handle it]

Adyant added cautiously.

At that, Agraj finally lowered the newspaper, raising an eyebrow.

"Tu sambhal sakta hai, toh meeting Devansh kyu karega uska kaam dusra hai"

[If you can handle it, then why should Devansh do it? His work is different]

"Mujhe ek dusri important meeting ke liye kahi jana hai,"

[I have to go somewhere else for another important meeting]

Adyant explained, keeping his tone steady.

Agraj's expression hardened slightly.

"That's your responsibility, Adyant."

Adyant took a quiet breath and said,

"Devansh doosra kaam dekhta hai, Papa aur ye meeting usi kaam se related hai. Main dono units ko merge nahi karna chahta. Agar wo yeh handle karega, toh exposure bhi milega usse."

[Devansh looks after the other unit, Papa, and this meeting is related to that work. I don't want to merge both units. If he handles this, it'll also give him some exposure.]

Agraj didn't respond immediately. He looked at Adyant for a long second, the weight of control and expectation hanging heavy in the air.

He studied his elder son for a moment, then gave a slow nod.

"Okay,"

He said simply, before picking up the newspaper again.

That one word held power-permission, approval, and control-all wrapped into one. Adyant didn't smile or show relief; he just gave a short nod in return, understanding that even getting that "okay" wasn't easy.

Across the table, Devansh, who had just arrived and overheard the end of the conversation, looked up-surprised, and maybe a little unsure.

Devansh pulled out a chair and sat down slowly, still processing what he had just heard.

"I'll... handle it,"

He said after a pause, his voice unsure but respectful.

He looked toward Adyant, who didn't say much-just gave a brief nod, the way an elder brother who rarely shows approval might.

"Leave on time,"

Agraj said without looking up.

Devansh nodded quickly,

"Ji, Papa."

Just as Devansh took a bite of his breakfast, Agraj's voice rang out again-firm and direct.

"Where is your wife?"

The question made the air go still for a second. Devansh paused mid-chew, a bit startled, then quickly swallowed.

"Wo... upar hi hai, thoda rest kar rahi thi,"

[She... was upstairs, just resting a bit]

He replied hesitantly.

Agraj narrowed his eyes.

"Rest? At this hour?"

His voice carried the same authority that made even silence feel like a warning.

Devansh, slightly flustered, looked down and said softly,

"She... said her back is hurting because of the pregnancy."

The room fell silent again for a moment.

Maitree let out a sharp chuckle, bitterness laced in her tone.

"Back is hurting? If she's so delicate, then why is she becoming a mother in the first place?"

Gitanjali, Mimansa's mother-in-law, shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. She was used to these remarks-she had once been the target of them too.

Agraj glanced at Maitree, then back at Devansh.

"Kal se time pe aaye nashta ke liye. Aur jo rest karne ka shauk hai na, woh baad mein poora ho jayega."

[From tomorrow, she better be on time for breakfast. And this habit of resting whenever she wants-she can forget about it soon enough.]

Devansh just nodded quietly, trying not to meet anyone's eyes

"Vedant aur Vedisha kaha hain?"

[Where is Vedant and Vedisha?]

Agraj's younger brother Nachiket asked about his children casually, glancing around the table as he reached for his tea.

"Ji, Vedant so raha hai,"

[Vedant is sleeping]

Maitree replied, quickly straightening up.

"Aur Vedisha college gayi hai subah hi."

[And Vedisha went to college early in the morning]

He frowned slightly.

"Kyun? Vedant ko college nahi jaana hai?"

[Why? Doesn't Vedant have to go to college?]

"Aaj uska late class hai,"

[He has a late class today]

She explained politely.

"11 baje se hai, isiliye thoda der se uth raha hai."

[It starts at 11, so he's waking up a bit late]

"Aur Vedisha?"

[And Vedisha]

"Wo toh subah hi chali gayi thi. Aaj uska project submission tha,"

[She left early in the morning. She had a project submission today]

Maitree added.

A short silence followed before Agraj muttered from behind his newspaper,

"Ladkiyan bhi aajkal zyada udne lagi hain."

[Girls these days have started flying too high]

As the clinking of cups and spoons continued on the breakfast table, footsteps echoed from the staircase.

Vedant finally appeared, rubbing his eyes and still half-asleep, wearing a loose hoodie and track pants. He greeted everyone with a lazy

"Good morning."

Agraj looked up briefly, then pointedly glanced at the wall clock.

"Good morning hota hai yeh? Din ke dus baje uth raha hai tu?"

[Is this what you call a good morning? You're waking up at ten?]

Vedant gave a weak smile, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Late class hai, bade papa."

[Late class today, Bade Papa]

Nachiket narrowed his eyes.

"Aur college ke baad kya karega tu? Ghar pe aake soega phir?"

[And what will you do after college? Come home and sleep again?]

Vedant didn't reply, just went and took his seat quietly.

Maitree immediately rushed to serve him paratha and curd, whispering softly,

"Jaldi kha le, warna fir se sunni padengi."

[Eat quickly... or you'll have to hear another round of scolding]

As everyone sat finishing up breakfast, Vedant looked up at Netrakshi, who had just placed a bowl of fruits near him.

"Bhabhi, aap bol rahi thi na ki aapko aapke papa se milne jana hai? Chaliye, main chhod deta hoon."

[Bhabhi, you were saying that you wanted to go meet your father, right? Come on, I'll drop you.]

His voice was casual, genuinely trying to help.

But before Netrakshi could even respond, a heavy silence settled over the room.

Adyant, who had just taken a sip of water, placed the glass down with a loud thud. His eyes darkened, a storm quietly brewing behind them. He looked at her, his jaw clenched.

"Kisse puchha tune jane ke liye?"

[Whom did you ask before deciding to go?]

He asked, his voice low but filled with warning.

Netrakshi froze, her hand tightening around the edge of the table. She hadn't even agreed to go, but his question wasn't about permission-it was about control.

Vedant glanced between the two, suddenly realizing the shift in energy.

"Bhai... main toh bas-"

[Brother... I was just-]

"Tumse jab koi poochhe tab bolna,"

[Speak only when someone asks you to]

Adyant snapped without even looking at him.

Netrakshi lowered her gaze, murmuring,

"I'm not going."

Vedant looked away, guilt flashing across his face. He hadn't meant to create a scene-just help.

"Sorry, bhai,"

He mumbled, going back to his plate, though the food no longer appealed to him.

Adyant stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, ready to leave for office. Before turning, he glanced once more at Netrakshi, his voice cold and sharp

"Aur agar kisi aur ke saath jaane ka socha bhi, toh yaad rakhna... tumhare pair pehle katunga."

[And if you even think about going with someone else, remember this... I'll cut off your legs first]

Her heart sank. She didn't respond, didn't move, just stood there with eyes cast down-helpless.

˚༺☆༻˚