chapter 7

DUAA

Damn, it was a hectic day—roaming endlessly through this colossal empire, trying to remember each hallway, each polished stair, each intimidating corridor.

I seriously don't know how people memorize ways in this place. It's like a maze, wrapped in gold and secrets.

Anyway, I'm finally back in my room... or should I say cave?

The interiors are suffocatingly dark. Every glass table, every curtain, every piece of decor feels like it was stolen from a gothic museum. Nothing in here breathes light. Only richness. Opulence. Cold power.

The only vibe this place gives off is money... and something else.

Something illegal.

Or maybe I should say—

"Hey, beautiful woman!"

A voice snapped through my thoughts like a blade. I blinked sharply, my gaze cutting to the man standing at my office door.

I raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed and visibly irritated.

Not today. Not after this draining day.

"May I know your name, pretty girl?" he asked, with a disgusting smirk that made me want to snap the pencil I was spinning between my fingers and shove it into his annoyingly bright green eyes.

Instead, I stayed composed. Cold.

"Do you need anything, sir?" I asked, my tone clipped.

"I asked for your name, beautiful. You seem new here," he continued, cocky, fixing his already perfect coat, and casually dropping onto the small sofa opposite my desk.

"If you don't need anything work-related, please excuse me. I have things to do," I replied, standing up and grabbing my bag, making it clear the conversation was over.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but I didn't even give him the satisfaction.

I left.

I had no energy left for cocky creeps or unwanted male attention.

The moment I entered home, I dropped onto the sofa, exhaling every ounce of fatigue from my lungs.

"Assalamualaikum, aunt and uncle. I'm back," I said, half-dead.

"Tired, sweetie? How was your first day?" she asked gently, sitting beside me and running her fingers through my hair.

Before I could answer, a bundle of energy tackled me.

                                           

             

                       

"YAY DAI, YOU'RE BACK!" Rahul screamed.

"Yes, my baby, I'm back!" I said, hugging him tight and smothering his cheeks with kisses.

God, I love him.

After dinner and warm hugs, I retreated to my room, stripped down, and stepped into a cold shower.

The moment the icy water kissed my heated skin, his eyes flashed in front of mine.

Those brown orbs.

So dark, so deep, so... familiar.

Every time I think of them, my chest tightens. My gut twists.

Run, my heart whispers.

But from what?

I don't know. My brain is a storm I can't quiet.

I dried off, slipped into my white shorts and t-shirt, and melted into the mattress. My body was grateful. My mind? Not so much.

I was asleep in seconds.

At Night

Something heavy.

I feel something—someone—near me.

My nose twitched. That cologne.

It hit me hard. So familiar. So terrifyingly familiar.

I blinked, and my entire body stiffened.

Someone was in the room.

My eyes darted around until they locked onto a tall, dark silhouette sitting calmly on my sofa—watching me.

No, no, no.

"Ahh—" I screamed, jolting up—

But before the sound fully escaped, a large hand clamped over my mouth.

A real hand.

Not a dream.

"Shhh, princess," a deep voice growled into my ear. The timbre of it slid down my spine like poison. "Why are you screaming, hmm?"

I froze. Completely.

He wasn't just close. He was on me.

In a split second, he grabbed my wrists and slammed me against the cold wall, caging me between his rock-solid body.

My breaths stuttered. My vision blurred.

"L-Leave me," I whimpered.

But he only pressed closer, one leg sliding between mine, locking me in.

His black eyes bored into mine with so much power, I felt like he could shatter me with one blink.

"You think I waited all these years just to leave you, princess?" he hissed, his grip bruising my wrists. "You think you can escape me now?"

"Let me go—"

He laughed. Low, sharp.

"I missed the way your voice trembles when you beg."

His hand moved up. Clutching my throat.

Tight.

I coughed, gasped for air. "Ahh—!"

And then I felt it.

His lips.

No—his teeth.

He bit me. Hard. On my neck.

"AHH—let go, you psycho!" I screamed.

"Princess," he growled, licking the blood off my skin, "you don't understand what you do to me. You were always mine. Always."

           

             

                       

"Now be a good girl for daddy, hmm?"

The click of his belt echoed like a gunshot.

My heart slammed against my ribcage.

"N-no—please—!"

He didn't listen. His hand tore at my shirt—my bare skin exposed to the cold air and his ravenous gaze.

"Don't do this," I cried, shaking.

"Too late. I'm claiming what's mine."

He reached for my skirt, the sound of fabric ripping...

"NO!"

"DUAA?! DUA! What happened?!"

I shot up, drenched in sweat.

Aunt was beside me, hugging me tightly as I sobbed.

"Same... same dream," I choked. "He was here... again..."

"Sshh, nothing will happen, sweetheart," she whispered, rocking me. "It's just a dream."

But it wasn't.

Not really.

Deep down, I knew it was more than a nightmare.

That dream—he—was real.

The phone rang.

I picked it up with shaking hands.

"Hello?" I said weakly.

"Party. Tonight. Be there."

Click.

No name. No emotion.

Just an order.

Was it... him?

"Who was it?" my aunt asked, concerned.

I looked away. "Office party. I'm invited."

"You should go, Dua," she said softly. "It'll take your mind off things."

"No, Massi. I don't want to—"

"No excuses. Get ready."

She meant it.

That's my Massi. My everything.

She and uncle gave me life again. When I was lost. Bleeding. Alone.

I owe them everything.

Even the old man who handed me to them after finding me collapsed in a pool of blood.

He saved me.

I remember that day.

I was a teenage girl. Bleeding. Broken. Holding my own skull like it would fall apart.

"What happened to you, daughter?" an old man said.

"I—I d-don't know..." I managed before collapsing into darkness.

That was the beginning of my life.

I have no memory before it.

Doctors said I might recover my memories if I meet someone from my past.

But that's a long shot.

Sometimes I wonder—did my real family ever look for me?

Did they even want me?

The pain of not knowing stings worse than any wound.

___________________

"I'm not wearing this!" I protested, staring at the dress Massi picked.

Backless. High slit. Strap shoulders. It screamed confidence and sin.

"You're not a child anymore," she winked. "Now get dressed."

With a groan, I gave in.

When I looked in the mirror, I froze.

The beautiful dress clung to every curve, kissed every line. My collarbone, my hidden mole, my thighs—all on display. I felt beautiful. Powerful.

Dangerous.

With dark eye makeup and silver heels, I descended the stairs.

"Is this my Duaa?!" Uncle said dramatically.

"I'm falling in love, Daddy!" Rahul said, covering his eyes.

Daddy.

That word again.

My heart flinched.

No, Dua. Hold it together.

They're smiling because of you.

That's enough.

That's all you need.

_____________________

In a room filled with security screens showing every angle of her house, a man leaned forward, watching her descend the stairs.

His shirt was half open, sweat glistening on his chest, jaw clenched with obsession.

"She looks... fucking breathtaking."

He leaned closer, his voice a guttural whisper.

"Bad dream again, princess? Was it about me?"

He smirked, licking his bottom lip slowly.

"Enjoy your freedom, love. It's ending tonight."

________________________

Thank you