Chapter 57: Chapter 57

Her hands fell to her sides out of terror as she immediately bowed her head down, and clutched her dupatta draped around her chest with her left hand. As she thought her right hand still had blood on it and it would mess up her clothes.

He closed the door and stepped towards her.

Her legs began to loose the strength as they started to shiver.

She didn't dare say anything without his permission as he came closer though she wanted to apologize.

Apologize for...?

She herself didn't know the reason but she wanted to apologize to him so he won't punish her.

As he stood just infront her, she stumbled and fell on her knees as she couldn't stand anymore due to lack of energy and out of fear.

She didn't make an attempt to stand up either as her whole body shivered just like of that person suffering from intense fever. Just like a leaf.

He bend down, held both her arms and made her stand up before lifting her face up. She stumbled again but couldn't fall as his arm held her.

She was standing infront him.

Her fear knew no leaps and bounds.

Sheharzaad was close to fainting, she frequently hoped nothing would go wrong and she won't, even mistakenly step out of those boundaries set for her.

"What's going on?" he asked.

She shook her head in negative while staring up at him.

"I'm sorry," she answered, "please, I'm sorry," she said without waiting for a blink as his question was a green signal for her to speak.

He made her sit and again lifted her face up as now he stood and she sat.

"Why were you shouting?"

Tears formed in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I won't do that again. I promise. I'm sorry," She quickly said as a tear fell down her eye.

He sat beside her and felt herself going stiff like a dead body. Her face turning white and toes curling inwards but like other times, she wasn't crawling away from him.

He may not like it.

"Zaad," he called out and she slowly turned her face towards her. Face that was streaked with tears. Tears that were tears of terror.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

"Why?" he asked and proceeded to clean her tears with the back of his fingers.

"I'm sorry....I'm crying...crying...without your permission," she hiccupped. After listening to her answer, he moved the pads of his thumb towards her face and she resisted that flinch eliciting from her body. He subtly nodded his head in acknowledgement while his eyes were fixed on clearing her tears from her face.

When he had dried her face, he looked back at her, "go and wash your face. Hurry up," he commanded and she stood up and flashed towards the washroom with the speed of lightening.

She struggled splashing water on her face as her hands were shivering so rapidly. She thanked god when she didn't see the blood spots on her hands again. It suddenly brought a sense of peace in her.

Quickly she dried up her face with the towel and then looked back at the mirror that her face was looking washed enough, as he had commanded her to 'wash her face'

This was how her body and mind had been working lately. His every single word, sentence weighed tons on her heart. The idea of defying him, the thought of denying him, and the concept of disobeying him was drilled out of her mind in such an impeccable way that there was no going back. All she knew, at this point, was to breathe whenever he asked her to breathe. Stop when he asked her to stop. Talk when he asked her to talk.

If he asks her to stop breathing, she will do so.

Her mind was under his control to this extent.

Her will had died.

Completely.

She spotted mascara around her eyes making her panic as she started to wash again, rigorously rubbing soap around her eyes.

She winced when some of the soapy water entered her eyes but nevertheless she continued doing so and on the other hand, she was aware that he was waiting for her outside so she had to be real quick.

She can't let him wait.

Sheharzaad appeared out from the restroom and found his eyes staring at her. She suddenly realized that she forgot her dupatta in the washroom.

She gulped, now in a dilemma of going inside the washroom again to get her dupatta, asking him that can she get her scarf or just standing there, waiting for his next order.

She pointed her thumb back at the washroom and made a face as if seeking his permission.

He raised his brows urging her to speak

"Wo mera.... mera dupatta andar reh gya hai. L-l-lei aaon k-kia?"

(My-my scarf... I left it inside.... can I go get it?)

He stared at her for longer than a minute, making her heart leap to her throat.

Thinking.

Thinking hard.

Despite designing her the way he wanted her to be, there were still some portions of her which he couldn't change. And he could see that. It was all visible  and clear to his mind and eye.

She still didn't want her to be his mistress though what she had been through, she should just care about him, eradicating her want completely.

She still didn't have her will.

Rather he still didn't manage to get the consent he had wanted.

Her heart throbbed in her chest more and more as his gaze lingered on her. His narrowed eyes, staring and observing her. She felt her chest getting short of breath at this point and she was able to breathe in only when he nodded, giving her a green signal.

She rushed inside, grasped her scarf and draped it around her chest, properly before appearing out of the restroom again.

Out of nowhere he felt a smile appearing on his lips, upon seeing her. His features softened as he stood up and approached her. The sole of his boots striking with the floor and she felt as if the angel of death was walking towards her.

She squirmed under his gaze that was shaking her core.

His hand moved and he grabbed the dupatta draped around her chest slowly taking it away from her chest. Her eyes longingly stared at her ornament when he fully opened the scarf and sprawled it around her head, covering her head with it, just like the pakistani brides would wear their dupatta.

The action was un-decipherable to him, himself.

He liked her wrapped in the scarf.

Staring at her button up nose and anxious eyes, his lips twitched in a smirkish-smile as he descended his lips towards her forehead and gave her a kiss. He stopped but didn't remove his lips from the crown of her head as he closed his eyes.

"Calm down, my little lady. I can hear your heartbeat," he whispered with closed eyes against her forehead and he felt her breathing getting more rapid. He placed his thumb where the two shoulders meet to feel her heartbeat and it was escalating more with passing second so he decided to step away from her.

Her eyes were already teary. He was speaking to her calmly but still she couldn't control her fear around him. It wasn't in her hands. And that fright was so extreme that it instigated tears out of her eyes.

"Don't wear any makeup tonight," he said. The make-up which she had been wearing earlier, done by that beautician, he didn't like it one bit.

It gave her the persona of what she was not.

And he wanted to see the real her while he would take her. Without those extra layers of make-up.

Extra layers of these clothes.

He had waited. Waited desperately for her that she had no idea.

He held her hand which was tightly fisting her shirt that her knuckles were turning white. Slowly, one by one, he released her fingers from the fist, gazing at her small palm.

Small, beautiful palm.

Her everything was so small, tiny and fragile.

It was one of the reasons he always called her 'little lady'

Bending, he spoke near her lips, "you're beautiful without any adornment," as he slightly brushed his lips against hers and before things could escalate between them, he retreated and straightened.

He will touch those lips. Not now but soon.

"And now I should not hear you screaming anymore,"

"I won't. I won't," She shook her head in negative. Her eyes landing on her hand that he was holding. To her, her hand seemed much more important than her entire self in that moment as Shehryaar was holding it.

"Will you be ready for me tonight?" He asked and her heart skipped a beat at this question.

Nevertheless, she replied, "J-jee...jee,"

(Yes... I will)

"I don't see your head nodding. Seems like you don't agree," he asked and slightly narrowed his eyes at her.

"No...no" She said with utter confusion and panic. Her chest squeezing suddenly.

"You don't agree?" he asked, with a raised brow.

"No....I..yes...I me...mean yes...I ag-ag-agree,"

"But something tells me you are not ready to give yourself to me.... that you don't agree. Hmm Sheharzaad?"

She gulped, finding herself cornered to a wall as she shook her head with eyes widened to the size of saucers.

He was reading her mind.

In that moment, she wanted a miracle to save her from him now. A miracle to happen so he would believe her. Her hand tightly grasped her shirt as she stared at her with utter fear on her face.

Her face paled.

No.

It turned white.

She wasn't breathing either.

And the only thing she could hear was her heart palpitating like a drum in her ears, wildly. Her voice suddenly got lost with the tendency of heaving in a breath.

She began to whimper, "nhi....wo....nhi," she muttered incoherently.

(No...it's not that)

"Agree or disagree?"

"Ag--agree,"

She saw a frown forming between his brows and it was then when she began to pray inwardly that he would believe her.

A tear was already on its way to fall from her eye. She was so close to crying and she was aware if she cried, given how she had stopped her breath, she wouldn't have the tendency to sob. It'd be a sobless, a breathless cry.

"Are you sure?"

She let out a whimper again. It was a moment of truth for her that he knew, she hadn't agreed with whatever he said, wholeheartedly. And he came to know of it.

It was the first time after she came out of that cell when she took a tiny step back from him, without his acknowledgement while giving a subtle nod to him.

Her prayers increased as she wanted a miracle to occur of him believing in her that she had wholeheartedly agreed.

Suddenly, he let out a chuckle, taking her by surprise. She frowned, her lips formed an O shape. As he cleared the tear that had fallen from her eye without her notice.

"Was just playing with you," he told and then she found herself able to breathe again as that weight from her chest lifted yet her face still remained paled.

"Now get ready," he said and was about to leave when he heard her voice.

"Shehryaar," she said, not above a whisper.

He stopped.

His name.... it sounded so profound, so complete in her voice.

"Yes?" he turned towards her, before holding her face with both his hands.

Her lips got sealed as she didn't have the courage to say those words running in her mind yet those words did appear in her eyes.

A plead.

A plead stood profound in her eyes.

A plead, begging him that she can't sustain of getting ruined again.

"K-kuch nhi," she said and hopelessly looked down.

(Nothing)

The hope was dying down slowly.

...

Dressed up in a white ankle-length dress, she looked no less than an angel. Her hair tied up in a messy fun with few tendrils falling out of the messy bun. Her smooth and dainty neck adorned with a pendant.

She was all dolled up.

For him.

As now they were taking her to his chamber and every step she took, shook her soul.

She wanted to stop but they were not letting her stop.

She kept on walking and walking to the room where she was about to get ruined again. And this time, he can ask for as many times as he could. Whenever, wherever and she has to be at his service.

She had been bought.

Now she was a slave.

A mistress.

And she signed up for that, herself.

The maids that were escorting her suddenly stopped and she too. Her reverie breaking as she realized they were standing infront a door.

"Ma'am we have reached," one of them said as she opened the doors for her.

Life slowly evaporated from her limbs as she stared in the room.

"You may enter,"

Sheharzaad didn't know who was saying it but slowly she took a step inside.

Someone told her to wait for him but she was too lost in her plight to bring anyone's word under consideration.

Her breath hitched when the door got closed and she was left alone in the room. The room that smelled of lilies and azaleas. The fragrance everywhere.

She shut all her emotions inside and sat on the nearby couch, her eyes fixed on the door.

Any moment he would be here.

It could be any moment....

The next second, minute or the next hour but that was moment was bound to occur.

And tomorrow at this time of night, she might be in her bed, reminiscing this night or maybe getting dressed up for him again.

She looked at her dress and then at the floor, aware that soon enough this 'adornment' of hers would be lying on the floor.

'You look beautiful without any adornment'

His words ran in her mind.

She was now able to understand the meaning behind his words.

She wasn't aware how much time elapsed but her eyes were on the door.

Suddenly, her heart stopped beating when she heard footsteps approaching the room and she stood up.

Horror etching on her face.

It was about to happen anytime soon.

The moment that was so surreal, so impossible to occur in her thoughts was now happening as the door opened and he entered inside, leaving her shaken to the core.

Was she going to get ruined again?

Would she have the repeat of that night again?

She now understood;

That one night stand was the start of his obsession with her.