Aisha's hand trembled as she lifted the crimson liquid to her lips.

It was thicker than juice, possessing a metallic, earthy scent she couldn't quite place.

She felt his stare on her, heavy and unyielding, a silent, triumphant pressure that compelled her to complete the act of submission.

​She swallowed. The tonic was cool, surprisingly palatable, and left a strange warmth spreading in her stomach, a sensation of instant, potent nourishment.

She didn't look up, focusing instead on the marble pattern of the table.

​"Does it taste good, Jaana?" Siddharth's voice was low, laced with that proprietary satisfaction.

He hadn't asked if she had drunk it; he knew she had.

​"It's... fine," Aisha managed, setting the empty glass down with a slight clink.

Her fear was still a tight coil in her chest, but the sudden rush of energy from the tonic was making her mind sharper, clearer.

​He shifted slightly in his chair, the movement minimal but commanding.

"Now, the social calendar," he repeated, moving the conversation forward as if her protest had been nothing more than a momentary delay.

"Tonight, we attend a gala for the Asian Infrastructure Group. A purely political affair.

You will be introduced as my personal associate."

​Aisha finally lifted her head, her eyes flashing with renewed defiance.
And what do I do? Stand there and look beautiful for your guests?"

​Siddharth leaned back, the light gray cashmere stretching across his powerful shoulders.

​"You'll be beautiful, yes, that is unavoidable," he said, his eyes trailing over her face with unsettling possessiveness. "But not for them only for me".

" you will also watch and listen. You will learn the geography of my world. The names, the power structures. You will be an extension of my sight."
​He picked up a polished silver knife and tapped its tip lightly on the table, the small sound echoing in the glass room.

"You will be dressed in what my stylist sends up. You will wear the jewelry I select. You will remain within arm's reach of me at all times. And," his voice dropped, becoming a serious, deep rumble that demanded attention, "you will not speak of the circumstances of your stay. Not a word, not a gesture. Do you understand?"

​"I am not a doll, Mr. Raichand," Jise aap saaja ke char aadmiyon ke bich le Jaye.....or aapne ye Tay kaise kar Liya ki mai jaungi....vo bhi Aapke saath. she retorted, the words rushing out. "I won't....."not with you".

Maana ki aap meri Diya ke liye sab kuch kar rahe hai.....par ye sab mujhse nhi hoga.....aap jabardasti nhi kar sakte mere saath.She said angrily.

(Song suggestion listen:- Dil ibadat by K.K of movie tum mile)

​His smile vanished, replaced by a cold, immediate intensity that made her regret the outburst.

He was terrifying when his patience wore thin.
Jabardasti....huh...Janti bhi ho iska Matlab. Agar ise tum jabardasti kehti ho....Toh Jo aage hoga use kya kahogi.

"Main tumse itne pyaar se baat kar raha hoon samjhti kyu nhi ho tum" .He said while tilting his head.

​"You are mine, little bird" he stated, the words no longer a seductive whisper but an ancient decree.

"Apne kharid nahi liya mujhe Mr. Raichand". Aisha fought back.

He reached out and placed his cold hand over hers on the table. This time, the contact was deliberate and firm, a shock of ice against her warm skin.

"If you want to think so... think it ....I don't have any problem". He said moving closer to her.

​"I want you with me,Jaana. Not just physically. I want your awareness, your heat, your pulse beating near me," he murmured, his gaze dropping momentarily to the exact spot where her wrist met the cold marble.

Why don't you understand Jaana?

He lifted his other hand and gently, delicately, brushed a stray lock of hair away from her temple, his thumb lingering on her hairline.

​"kyu khud ko itni takleef de rahi ho... haan..bas karo.

I know what you felt this morning, little bird . Your heart tells me everything, Jaana......everytime,it speaks against you

That spike of terror, then the curiosity, the undeniable, raw connection. I felt it too. It's not a negotiation. It's an inevitability."

​His eyes, unnervingly blue in the bright light, held a dark fire. "That heartbeat, Jaana? The one pounding like a frantic drum in your chest? It is music to me. And when you are near me, it speeds up-I can feel it, I can taste the adrenaline in the air. That is what I want."

​He was so close now that she could see the faint, metallic sheen in his eyes, the impossibly perfect texture of his skin.

His proximity was dizzying, making her heart hammer a wild rhythm that seemed to fill the entire suite.

He knew! He knew exactly what her body was doing, how it was reacting.

The realization was both terrifying and shamefully compelling.

​He released her hand but kept his gaze locked on hers, a predator securing his prey. "The stylist will arrive at four o'clock. Be ready."

​He rose from the table with a fluid, silent grace that was utterly unnatural.

He stood tall, the master of his metallic, golden cage, and delivered his final, intimate command.

​"And .."
​He paused, his voice dropping to a seductive, throaty whisper that promised destruction and devotion in equal measure.

​"When we are out tonight, remember you are mine. If anyone else dares to look at you the way I do, I will remind them-and you-who you belong to. Don't test the extent of my control on you."

​Aisha watched him disappear through a concealed door panel she hadn't even noticed, leaving her alone once more with the dazzling view and the deafening beat of her own captured heart.

The immediate, terrifying truth settled over her: he was obsessed, possessive, and impossibly attuned to her body.

For a while she sat there still. LIKE A STATUE.
And recalling everything ,what he said.

Why does he affect me this much ... my heart betrays me everytime time....when he is closer to me.
UGH... itni zor se dhadkne ke liye kon kheta hai tumhe.
This is not the first time I'm talking with a man....BUT WHY HE MAKES MY HEART POUND LIKE THIS.

Then suddenly his cold touch hit her.

she thought again,
remembering the cold touch, the talk of her blood, the hearing of her pulse.

HOW AN HIS HAND BE SO COLD?

No, Aisha something is off about this man. You have to find out....for you and Diya.

Then only you can escape this golden cage.

​She grabbed the tablet, her priority overriding her panic.

She had one hour before the attendant returned.

She opened the medical report for Diya Sharma, hoping to find a flaw, a lie, a reason to fight back.

​The report was extensive, professional, and terrifyingly efficient.

It outlined the exact immunological deficiency, the complex gene therapy protocol, and the immediate, positive stabilization of Diya's vitals-exactly as he had promised.

​He keeps his promises, she realized with a sinking feeling.

He had bought her, and he was delivering the goods.

​There was no flaw in his work, only in her fate.

Siddharth murmured under his breath in his study. HE WAS ALONE

Look jaana,
Dekho,..Abhi se hi kitni baate maane lagi ho tum.

But stop fighting me Angel.... tumhe jaldi sudhaarna hoga,Mera bachha.

I'll have to tame you ,My feisty Katherine.

To be continued

Hehehe😀,acha laga kya

Toh vote karo na🤭
Maang nhi rahi ....acha lag toh karna.

Yours Emily 💖