"Our wedding is already done, now only the consummation night remains. Come on, let's get this final task over with as well."
Hearing the mention of the wedding night, the boy's heartbeat quickened. He was most afraid of this very thing.
The man continued, "Only after the consummation will our marriage truly be complete."
A devilish smile played on the man's lips.
As soon as he said this, he suddenly grabbed the boy's wrist and pulled him close. "Don't even try to escape now..." he whispered softly into his ear, and without wasting a single moment, pressed his lips against the boy's.
The boy tried to break free, but the man's grip was too strong. He pushed against him with all his might, but his body had gone weak—the man's strength was overwhelming. Hatred burned in the boy's eyes, but all he could see in the man's gaze was raw desire.
Three minutes later, when the man realized the boy couldn't breathe, he finally let him go.
The boy gasped, trying to pull back, but his waist was already pressed against the bed. His eyes were filled with rage and helplessness, but the man only smirked, cupping his face gently and murmuring,
"Get used to it... because now you're mine—only and solely mine."
Hearing his cruel words, the boy's eyelids grew heavy, and a faint trickle of blood seeped from his lips. His head bowed in pain and shame. He couldn't even bring himself to meet the man's eyes anymore.
Even after all this, there was no remorse in the man's eyes. They were as cold as ice.
The man stared at the boy for a moment, then suddenly yanked him and threw him onto the bed. The boy trembled in fear, but the man gave him no time to react. He forced himself forward, and the boy's entire body shook in terror.
"No... please, don't... let me go... I'm not your slave!" the boy screamed with all his strength, his voice trembling with panic and helplessness. He tried to push the man away with his delicate hands, but it was futile. He couldn't even move him an inch.
Tears streamed down the boy's face uncontrollably. *"I'm not your slave... please... stop... let me go."* He kept begging, his voice trembling with unbearable pain.
But the man remained unaffected. He didn't stop. His eyes held only one thing—the thirst for dominance.
The boy's tears fell like rain, but then, suddenly, the man froze. He looked into the boy's eyes—swollen from crying. Seeing them, his grip loosened, and he jerked back abruptly.
The boy trembled, curling into himself on the bed, tears still flowing. But this time, the shameless hunger in the man's eyes was gone. There was something softer there. Instead of hatred, an odd emotion flickered—as if he despised himself. His eyes were no longer cold. Now, they were just... empty.
The man got up from the bed, staring at the boy for a few moments with that hollow gaze. Then, without a word, he stormed out of the room in anger.
Once outside, he marched straight into his study, right next to the bedroom.
Slamming the door shut behind him, his breaths came fast and ragged, his eyes burning red with fury. He paced violently, veins bulging in his temples.
*"What was I about to do? How could I even think of doing something like that?"* he muttered to himself. Then, in a sudden burst of rage, he swept everything off the table—glasses shattered, books thudded to the floor, an expensive lamp smashed into pieces.
His head pounded, his hands shook, his heart raced wildly. He grabbed another object and hurled it at the wall with full force. His rage refused to subside—one after another, he destroyed everything in sight. Within minutes, the room was in complete disarray.
Still not satisfied, he punched the wall hard. His entire body trembled with fury. His fists clenched so tight that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. But he didn't care—anger numbed the pain.
*"How could I sink this low?"* His voice echoed in the room. He was furious—at himself. Disgusted. *"Was I really about to force myself on him? Just because of my anger and need for revenge? How did I become this?"*
*"How could I do that to him? I... I like him."* He gritted his teeth, picking up a chair and smashing it against the wall. Along with the fury, there was a deep, gnawing guilt.
He dug his fingers into his hair, pressing his palms against his face. His breathing was out of control.
### **Meanwhile, in the other room...**
The boy was in terrible shape—sobbing uncontrollably, his entire body burning with humiliation. Tears refused to stop flowing down his cheeks, his breaths came in ragged gasps, and his heart pounded erratically from panic.
A faint trace of blood still lingered on his lips, evidence of the violence he had just endured. He tried to steady himself with trembling hands, but the pain in his legs made it impossible to stand.
*"Why...?"* His voice was a broken whisper. *"Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this punishment?"*
He collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands as his sobs grew louder.
Memories of everything that had happened since the jungle flashed through his mind—the man, his cruelty, the helplessness, the pain. The more he tried to forget, the deeper it all seared into his veins.
Sliding down against the wall, he curled into himself, hiding his face in his arms.
The only sound left in the room was his muffled weeping.
---
### **Study Room**
After some time, the man finally regained some composure. He fumbled for his phone, patting his pockets until he found it. His fingers shook as he dialed a number, his breaths still uneven, but he forced himself to stay steady.
*"Come to my room in two minutes."*
Without waiting for a response, he hung up.
Exactly two minutes later, a 26-year-old man entered the study. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes swept over the destruction—overturned chairs, a fallen painting, shattered glass everywhere. It was clear a storm had passed through this room, not from the outside, but from within the man himself.
In the corner, the man sat with his head resting on the table. Outwardly, he appeared calm, but inside, his mind was chaos. The more composed he seemed, the more turmoil raged beneath the surface.
Carefully stepping around the broken glass, the younger man approached and sat beside him silently. For a few moments, he just studied him, as if trying to gauge his condition. Then, taking a deep breath, he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and spoke softly.
*"Dad...?"*
Hearing his voice, the man slowly lifted his head. His eyes were red and swollen, glistening with unshed tears—as if he had been crying for a long time.
Seeing him like this, the younger man grew worried. *"Dad... are you okay?"*
No response.
The silence only deepened his concern. *"Dad, why aren't you saying anything? Talk to me. You look so troubled—it's worrying me. Did something happen?"* His voice was laced with genuine fear for his father.
The man took a deep breath, finally meeting his son's gaze. After a heavy pause, he spoke in a low, strained voice.
*"I... I tried to force myself on him."*
A suffocating silence filled the room.
### **The Beast Within**
*"The monster inside me took over so completely today that even seeing his tears didn't stop me."*
His voice dripped with self-loathing—disgust for what he had done, for what he had almost become.
The younger man froze, tension etching lines across his face. He didn't know how to respond. After a heavy pause, he forced himself to speak.
*"Dad… you didn't actually do anything you'll regret forever, right? I mean… you didn't… hurt him?"*
*"I was about to,"* the man exhaled sharply, his voice hollow. *"But I stopped in time."*
Relief washed over the younger man's face.
*"Dad… are you taking your meds on time? You've been getting more violent lately."*
*"I am."*
The son's breath hitched. He searched his father's eyes—they were a storm of regret, self-hatred, and something darker.
He knew. His father had two sides.
One—the calm, calculating, ruthless businessman who ruled empires.
The other—a monster, uncontrollable, merciless, capable of crossing every line.
And today… *the monster had won.*
The man clutched his head as if he wanted to crush himself out of existence. *"I disgust myself,"* he spat.
The son watched him, then took a deep breath. **"Dad… we need to do something. This has gone too far."**
The man lifted his gaze, exhaustion and something broken in his eyes. *"I have no right to be part of anyone's life. I'm a demon."*
*"Don't overthink it right now. Just take your meds and sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."*
*"How the hell am I supposed to sleep after this, Samarth?"*
*"I'll give you a sedative. You'll be out in thirty minutes."*
The man gave a stiff nod.
Samarth handed him the pills, waited until he drifted off, then quietly left.
---
### **The Boy's Memories**
The boy—**Sarthak Mishra**—was lost in the past. The day he first met *that man* played in his mind like a cursed film.
*"I wish that day had never come…"* he whispered to himself.
His fists clenched, trying to suppress the storm inside.
**"Yuvraj Rathod."**
The name alone had shattered his peaceful life.
Yuvraj Rathod—India's most powerful businessman. A man whose influence was unmatched, whose presence commanded fear and respect. But behind the wealth and charm lurked a **monster**.
At 40, he looked no older than 30—**handsome, magnetic, dangerous**. His piercing eyes could trap anyone in their depths. People bowed before him without thought.
But to the boy, every memory of him now felt like poison.
*I wish I had never met him. I wish he had never entered my life.*
---
### **Sarthak's Past**
Life had never been easy for **Sarthak Mishra**. Born in a small Uttar Pradesh village, he grew up fighting for every scrap of dignity. At **15**, he lost his parents. Left with nothing but his **younger sister, Diya**, he became her sole protector.
She was his reason to live.
Through sheer grit, he clawed his way into a prestigious job at **India's top company**—a dream come true. Mumbai was supposed to be his fresh start.
But the city of dreams was also a city of nightmares.
Their new "home" was a cramped, filthy room in a **dangerous chawl**—narrow alleys, constant noise, and lurking threats.
*"We'll manage for now,"* he told Diya, forcing a smile.
He had no idea this place would **trap him forever**.
---
### **The First Warning**
As Sarthak unloaded his bags from an auto, he felt **eyes burning into him**.
A man stood at the corner of the alley—**Mannu**, the local goon. His gang ruled the chawl through **extortion and violence**.
*"New tenant, huh?"* one of Mannu's lackeys smirked.
Sarthak ignored them. He wasn't here to fight.
But Mannu didn't look away. His stare was a **promise of trouble**.
An old neighbor whispered a warning: *"Stay away from Mannu."*
Sarthak nodded, but he didn't realize—**this was just the beginning.**
---
### **Mannu's Interest**
Mannu took a long drag of his cigarette, eyes locked on Sarthak's room.
*"Find out everything about this new guy,"* he ordered.
His men chuckled. *"Looks harmless. Just some village boy."*
Mannu crushed the cigarette under his boot. *"Harmless ones are the most dangerous."
To Be Continued…
**(Next: The trap closes. Yuvraj returns. And Sarthak's nightmare worsens.)**
Would you like me to refine any part further? Adjust the tone, pacing, or dialogue?*