He didn’t relax. His body remained tense, his eyes sharp and searching. “Fighting what?” he pressed, unwilling to let the matter drop.

“Fighting all this,” she replied, her voice barely audible. Her gaze lifted to meet his, her sharp eyes piercing his. For a moment, she gathered her courage, the weight of the truth heavy in her chest.

“In these days, I’ve realized that my fighting doesn’t change anything,” she said, her voice carrying a bitter edge. “Does it?”

He didn’t respond, his silence a confirmation of the unspoken reality between them.

Her next words came more forcefully, her resolve strengthening despite the tremor in her voice. “If I say I don’t want to marry you and want to leave, would you let me go?”

She already knew the answer. It was etched into his every action, every word he had spoken. The announcement of his proposal was proof enough—he wasn’t planning to let her go. But still, she asked, the question hanging heavily in the air.

“Tell me. Would you?”

For a moment, he looked almost guilty, his expression flickering with a sadness he couldn’t entirely mask. Yet she knew him too well. In his case, one emotion always overpowered the others.

As she expected, he shook his head, his answer piercing through her like a dagger. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her.

“I would never let you go,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t think I can do it.”

His explanation came with an air of inevitability. It wasn’t a choice anymore, not for him. Letting her go wasn’t something he could consider—he had crossed a line where his need for her eclipsed everything else.

Her sorrow deepened, but she fought to keep her face neutral, refusing to let him see her breaking. “Then what’s with you?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration and despair. “You have a problem if I’m against you. You have a problem even if I surrender to my fate. I’ve come to understand I have no choice. So I’m making peace with my fate—yet you have a problem with that too.”

Her voice cracked at the end, and she turned away, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

His expression softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes as he watched her. Seeing her lose hope stirred something in him, a quiet voice whispering that maybe he should let her go. Maybe she deserved freedom, a life where she could breathe again.

But he couldn’t. That choice wasn’t in his hands anymore. She wasn’t just someone to him—she was *his*.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice genuine.

She didn’t respond, her silence a quiet accusation.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated, stepping closer. He reached for her hand, gently prying it open from its tight fist. He brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss into the center of her palm. Her eyes closed tightly, tears slipping through her lashes as his lips lingered, warm and apologetic.

He kissed her other palm, his touch tender and almost reverent. He stepped closer still, lifting her chin with his fingers, his touch coaxing her to face him. Her eyes remained closed, tears staining her cheeks.

He leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a delicate kiss, testing her reaction. She didn’t pull away. Encouraged, he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving against hers with growing intensity. To his surprise, she responded, her lips parting to allow him entry.

A surge of emotion washed over him as his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. His hands slid to her waist, squeezing gently as the kiss grew more fervent. He tilted his head, his lips claiming hers with a possessive hunger that left her breathless.

As the kiss deepened, his hands moved to the folds of her saree, unwrapping it with a slow, deliberate care. Her body stiffened for a moment, but she didn’t resist. His own shirt fell to the floor shortly after, their breaths mingling as the layers between them disappeared.

Later, they found themselves on the bed, her hair spread out like dark silk against the pillow. He traced her form with his lips, his kisses trailing a path across her skin as if he were memorizing every inch of her. His hands followed, exploring her with a reverence that felt almost worshipful.

Her breaths came in soft, uneven gasps as he pressed his lips to her collarbone, his touch igniting emotions she couldn’t fully suppress. He kissed her skin as though trying to heal the wounds he knew he’d caused, his actions a strange mix of love and regret.

But even as her body responded, a part of her remained distant, locked away where he couldn’t reach. She let him have her, let him claim her—but in her heart, she knew this was just another battle she has to endure.

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with emotion.

The words hit her like a wave, their weight more suffocating than freeing. Her breath hitched, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She closed them tightly, turning her face away as she buried it against his chest, hiding the storm raging inside her.

He didn’t notice her inner turmoil, too lost in the moment, in the depth of his feelings. For him, this was everything—a culmination of his obsession, his desire, his longing. The walls he had built around his emotions had crumbled, and now he laid himself bare before her, hoping it would be enough to bind her to him.

Strong emotions surged within him as the words escaped his lips, unplanned yet undeniable. He had never intended to confess, believing it was enough for her to piece it together on her own. But in this moment, as passion consumed him, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I love you,” he had said, and he didn’t regret it—not one bit.

She needed to know. To understand that everything he did, everything he was, revolved around her. His love was deep, all-consuming, and in his mind, justified every action, every choice he had made. He wasn’t the villain she saw; he was a man willing to reshape himself for her, to become someone she could love in return.

His hands pinned hers to the mattress, his grip firm yet not painful, a silent assertion of control. He leaned down, letting his lips trail across her skin, leaving warm, lingering kisses in their wake. Each kiss felt like a mark of possession, a declaration that she belonged to him and no one else.

His movements were fervent, almost desperate, as if this moment was fleeting, as if he feared she might slip through his fingers. His lips pressed against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to make her shiver. He moved downward, kissing her collarbone, then trailing further, his lips worshiping her body with a hunger she had never seen before.

Her body responded mechanically, arching under his touch, her breaths hitching in rhythm with his movements. Each sound she made, whether a moan or a gasp, seemed to fuel him further. He cupped her breast with one hand, his mouth finding the other. His tongue teased her, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, drawing a mix of pleasure and pain that made her body tremble.

She kept her eyes closed tightly, her mind elsewhere even as her body submitted to his. Her cries and moans mingled with the heat in the room, a symphony that masked the chaos within her heart.

To him, it was the culmination of his love, his need to prove that she was his in every possible way. His thrusts were powerful, unrestrained, each one punctuated by his whispered affirmations of love. His hands explored her, memorizing every curve, every shiver, as if to etch her into his very being.

Her mind screamed at her to find a way out, to keep enduring, to use this moment to secure the freedom she so desperately craved. She knew his obsession with her wasn’t something she could escape easily, but every kiss, every touch, brought her closer to solidifying her plan.

His lips found hers again, capturing them in a kiss that was both tender and possessive. He tilted her chin upward, deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring, claiming. She responded just enough to keep him immersed in the moment, her fingers grazing his back as she feigned surrender.

But in the recesses of her mind, she remained distant, calculating. She had let him have her body, but her soul, her freedom, would remain hers. And no matter how deeply he tried to bind her to him, she vowed silently that one day, she would find a way to break free.

For him, this night was the affirmation of his love.

For her, it was another step toward her escape.