Her phone buzzed—a message from her friend, worried about her. She ignored it. There was no one she could trust right now. Not with Zavian lurking in every shadow of her life. Not with this marriage that felt more like a prison than a home.

A soft knock startled her. She turned, heart leaping. Zavian stood at the doorway, eyes dark, unreadable. His presence alone made the room heavier.

“Do you think you understand now?” he asked, voice low, smooth, yet edged with something dangerous.

“I understand one thing,” she replied, forcing her voice steady despite the tremor inside her. “That I won’t be controlled. Not by you. Not by anyone.”

A flash of something—annoyance? amusement?—crossed his face. “Bold words,” he said, stepping closer. “For someone trapped in my house, in my life.”

She straightened, meeting his gaze. “I’m not trapped. I’m surviving. And I will survive this marriage too.”

He circled her like a predator assessing his prey. Every step he took made the tension between them thicken, every breath heavier. Ayesha’s pulse raced—not with fear, but with something else, a pull she refused to name.

“You have spirit,” Zavian murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect that. Most would break after the first night.”

“Then you underestimated me,” she shot back, trying to hide the thrill that surged through her at his words.

He smirked, a dangerous, irresistible curve of his lips. And then he did something unexpected—he turned abruptly and left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Ayesha stared after him, heart still hammering.

Minutes later, her curiosity won over caution. She crept toward the study where she had glimpsed the photograph before. Zavian wasn’t there, but the photo was, illuminated by the soft desk lamp. The little girl smiling, holding a stuffed bear… Ayesha’s brow furrowed. Who was she? Why did Zavian’s expression soften when looking at her?

The sound of footsteps froze her in place. Zavian appeared, tall and silent in the doorway. “Curiosity can be dangerous,” he said, eyes glittering in the dim light.

“I just want to understand,” Ayesha whispered. “You’re not just a monster. There’s more… isn’t there?”

For a moment, his cold mask faltered. A shadow of something vulnerable flickered in his eyes—before it hardened again. “Understanding comes with a price,” he said, moving closer. His hand brushed hers by accident—or was it intentional? A shiver ran down her spine.

She tried to pull back, but he held her gaze, a storm of danger and desire swirling between them. “You’re playing with fire, Ayesha,” he warned, voice low and threatening.

“I’ve never been afraid of fire,” she replied, voice firm, hiding the rapid beat of her heart.

He smirked, a dark, thrilling smile. “Then maybe you’re more dangerous than I thought.”

The tension was unbearable. Words failed them. The air crackled, heavy with unsaid emotions, unacknowledged desires. And yet, beneath the hate, something new simmered—something neither of them wanted to admit.

Suddenly, a soft chime from his phone broke the moment. Zavian’s expression darkened. He glanced at the message, then back at her, and his eyes hardened again. “You need to sleep, Ayesha. Tomorrow, the game continues—and you won’t like what I have planned.”

She watched him leave, heart hammering, mind racing. What had he meant by “planned”? And what secret from the past was he hiding?

Ayesha sank into the chair, gripping the arms tightly. Her pulse was erratic, thoughts tangled. This marriage wasn’t just a battlefield—it was a maze of lies, passion, and dangerous obsession. And she was already falling into it, even as she swore she wouldn’t.

*The next day, a visitor arrives at the mansion—someone from Zavian’s past who knows secrets that could destroy everything. And Ayesha realizes that surviving this marriage will be harder than she ever imagined…*

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