Continues....

"You're my wife. I have rights over you." He said, his tone firmer.

He took a step closer to her, towering over her. "And you don't get to decide whether I touch you or not."He unpin her blouse

He pulls off her saree. His eyes roamed over her bare upper body, taking in the sight of her.

He reached out a hand, his fingers tracing the curve of her breast.

"You're truly mesmerising," he whispered, his voice deepening with intensity. He drew nearer, their bodies barely inches apart. The heat radiating from her skin enveloped him as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He leaned down, his lips hovering just millimetres away from hers.

"You're mine." He repeated, his voice firm. "And I'll do whatever I want with you."

She attempted to shove him away, but he was caught off guard by her sudden move, surprised by the force of her rejection. He wasn't used to her resisting him.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

"Stop it." He said, his voice firmer now. "You're not going anywhere."He cups her breasts, feeling her body tense to his touch. He could feel her heart racing beneath his hand. He looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of desire and possession.

"You belong to me," he murmured, his tone becoming more intense. "I can take you anywhere and everywhere." He drew closer, his breath brushing against her ear.

"Don't forget that." He whispered, his grip on her wrists tightening slightly. A knock came from a servant asking. The sound of the knock at the door broke the moment. He let out a frustrated sigh and released his grip on her wrists.

"What is it?" He called out, irritation clear in his voice, as the servant spoke from the other side of the door, informing them that breakfast was ready.

He looked back at her, his eyes still filled with desire.

"We'll be stepping out shortly," he told the servant, turning his attention back to her. "Put your clothes on." As she slipped on her blouse, he observed intently, taking note of how she wrapped herself in the fabric, concealing her form once more.

He could still see the indelible marks etched on her skin from the previous night, and a complex swirl of guilt and satisfaction washed over him..

"You should take a bath. I'll go downstairs," she said hurriedly.

He rolled his eyes at her suggestion.

"You're in no position to give me orders, doll." He said, his tone a little mocking.

He took a step closer to her again. "I said Come here."

"Absolutely not," she exclaimed, her heart racing as she hurried away, overwhelmed by fear." He watched her go, a mix of frustration and anger on his face. He wasn't used to being disobeyed.

With a deep, resonant sigh, he pushed himself away from the weight of his thoughts and trudged toward the bathroom, the cool tiles sending a shiver up his spine as he stepped inside. The shower cascaded over him, warm droplets enveloping him in a steamy embrace, but no amount of water could wash away her memory. Vivid images of her body lingered in his mind, each curve and contour etched into his thoughts like an artist's finest work.

After his shower, he wrapped himself in a plush towel, the fabric soft against his skin, and slipped into a crisp outfit that barely managed to shift his focus. As he descended the staircase, he could hear the faint clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of morning light filtering through the dining room. There she was, already seated at the table, a picture of serene beauty as she looked up.

He settled into the seat opposite her, his expression rigid and unyielding. At the table, both his mother and father were present, each responding to him in their own way. His father met his gaze with a firm nod, embodying a stern demeanour that commanded respect. In contrast, his mother's small smile illuminated the tension, offering a glimmer of warmth amidst the coldness of the moment.

He sat down at the table, his eyes flickering between his parents and his wife. Siya couldn't help but feel out of place in the presence of the English people at the table. They were talking amongst themselves, seemingly oblivious to her discomfort.

She tried to focus on her breakfast, but she couldn't help but feel their eyes on her from time to time. His mother lastly said about hearing the commotion of fighting last night from their room.

His mother's statement caught his attention. His eyes flicked over to her, but he said nothing.

His father, however, spoke up.

"What are you referring to, dear?" He asked, his tone neutral. His mother took a sip of her tea before answering.

"Oh, honey, I heard some noise coming from their room last night. It sounded like arguing."

His father raised an eyebrow, turning his attention to him.

"Is that true?" He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of their gaze.

"It was nothing." He said, dismissing the question. "Just a small disagreement between us." His mother looked at him, her expression concerned.

"A disagreement? But you are newly married. There should be no room for disagreements."

His father, however, seemed more sceptical.

"What kind of disagreement?" He asked, his tone firm.

She could feel the tension in the room and wanted nothing more than to run away. But she sat there, frozen in her seat.

His father's question hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable.

"It was a small matter." He repeated, trying to brush it off. "Nothing worth discussing at the breakfast table."His father's expression hardened at his response.

"I disagree. If there is a problem between the two of you, it should be discussed and resolved."

His mother placed a hand on his arm, her voice gentle. "Darling, it's not healthy to keep things bottled up. You need to communicate with each other."Siya scoffed in mind, thinking that he just orders never to listen.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes internally at his mother's words. He hated feeling like he was being lectured, especially in front of her.

He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice calm. "There's really nothing to discuss. It was just a silly argument, and it's already been resolved."His father raised an eyebrow at his response, clearly not convinced.

"A silly argument? And you've resolved it just like that?"

His mother looked at him, her expression still concerned.

"I hope you two are not starting your married life on the wrong foot."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Norman," she interjected, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "But wasn't this alliance serve the interests of both our families? If that's the case, what purpose does it truly serve to manage our married life?"

Her words hung heavily in the air, piercing the fragile calm. The colour drained from his father's face, his features tightening into a grimace as shadows of anger and disappointment flickered in his eyes.

"This alliance's purpose is clear," he asserted firmly. "Business demands sacrifices, and that's essential for success."

His mother placed a hand on his arm again, trying to soften his tone. "Don't be harsh, honey".

"Sacrifice of my freedom and being caged to him forever?". She snapped, the sharpness of her voice slicing through the air, and stormed into the bedroom, the door closing with a soft thud behind her. Her words felt like daggers, piercing deep into his heart. He hated the way she spoke about him, especially in the presence of his parents, their surprised faces reflecting the tension. As he stood there, helpless, he watched her stride away, a whirlwind of anger and frustration swirling within him, leaving a heavy silence in the room.

His father, however, spoke up again. "She's quite bold. You'll need to learn to keep her in line." He gritted his teeth at his father's words. He didn't like being told how to handle his wife.

"I can handle my wife." He said through gritted teeth. "She'll learn her place soon enough."His father gave him a nod.

"Good. You can't let her get away with that kind of behaviour."

His mother, a bundle of nerves, wore a frown that hinted at her deep concern. "Please, be gentle with her, darling," she urged, her voice soft but tinged with anxiety. "She's still feeling the weight of this new environment, far away from the warmth of her family."

"Some stories end with a cage. Hers was just beginning with fire."

Chains can bind bodies, but can they bind hearts? Tell me what you think 🖤

Comment YES or NO."