As Henry walked back toward Laboni's room, there was no love left in his eyes—only stubborn obsession and vengeance. He had no idea that Laboni was already trying to reach Rehan on the other end of the phone.
Just as Laboni, her hands trembling, was about to dial Rehan's number, Henry appeared at the door like the angel of death. One look at the fear on Laboni's face was enough for him to understand what she was trying to do.
Without giving her a second, Henry lunged at her like a beast. Before Laboni could even shield herself, he twisted her wrist painfully.
Laboni:
"Let go! Let me talk to Rehan! Henry, this isn't right!"
Henry didn't reply. With inhuman strength, he ripped the phone from her hand. Right before Laboni's eyes, he raised it high and smashed it onto the marble floor.
With a sharp crashing sound, the phone shattered. The battery and shards of glass scattered everywhere. Laboni cried out in agony—because that phone had been her only path to freedom from this prison.
Henry (terrifyingly calm):
"Who were you calling? That crippled brother of yours, Rehan? He's busy trying to save his own life. Don't forget, Laboni— even the walls of this house listen to me. I gave you a chance to be a queen, but you threw it away."
Laboni stared at the broken phone on the floor and burst into sobs. Henry crouched down and gripped her chin tightly, forcing her face up.
Henry:
"From now on, there will be no phones in this room. No internet. You will stay here only as my wife and the mother of my children. If you try to escape, I'll send your brother somewhere from which only his corpse will return."
Laboni knew that Henry always did what he threatened. She realized she was now literally trapped inside an impenetrable cage. Outside was America's dazzling glow—but inside, the air had turned poisonous for her.
Sara was lying in the next room and might have heard everything, but she didn't come out. She had understood that her father was no longer the man she once knew.
Laboni's pride, her scientist's fire, crumbled in an instant. Fearing for her brother's life, she lost all sense of dignity. She knew how cruel Henry could be. The same Laboni who had slapped Henry moments ago now collapsed to the floor, abandoning all self-respect.
She grabbed Henry's legs. Her tears soaked his expensive shoes.
Laboni (wailing):
"I'm begging you, Henry… please don't hurt Rehan! He's innocent. I'll do whatever you say. I'll never try to escape again. I won't call Rehan ever again."
Henry didn't move. He stood there like a stone statue, savoring her helplessness. To him, Laboni's sobs felt like a demonic victory.
Laboni:
"You said Rehan was free! You said you let him go! Then why are you playing with his life again? You said you loved me… is this your love?"
Henry bent down, ran his hand through her hair, and pulled her up slightly. A strange satisfaction flickered in his eyes.
Henry:
"Love and ownership are two different things, Laboni. I freed Rehan because I thought you had accepted me from your heart. But today you proved that hatred still lives inside you. Rehan is the chain that keeps you bound. If he dies, I'll have no way to keep you. So I'll keep him alive—but on my terms."
Laboni still clung to his feet. She understood now—this man didn't see her as a human being, but as an expensive decorative object in his drawing room.
Henry:
"Go wash your face. Sara is watching. In front of our children, you will never cry again. Remember—you are the queen of this house now. But a queen without wings."
With a shattered heart, Laboni released his feet and stood up. She realized that even in America, she was still trapped within the four walls of that prison. Outside were blue skies and maple trees—but her life was still clenched in Henry's fist.
Her heart was breaking into pieces when suddenly a pitiful cry came from the cradle nearby. Their little baby was crying—hungry and exhausted. The sound awakened Laboni's motherhood. Pushing aside all hatred and humiliation, she staggered toward the cradle.
Henry stood in the corner, watching everything with arrogance and control. Without looking at him, Laboni gently lifted her baby into her arms. The moment she heard the cry, a sharp pain pierced her own chest.
She leaned back on the bed and calmly began breastfeeding her baby. As soon as the child felt her mother's warmth and the milk, her crying stopped. With her tiny hands, she clutched Laboni's finger.
Laboni gazed at her daughter's peaceful face. Tears continued to fall from her eyes, dropping onto the baby's forehead. She thought silently:
"What sin has this innocent child committed? She doesn't know her father is a devil, and her mother a captive of fate. If I die or leave, what will happen to her?"
Seeing this scene, Henry softened slightly. He walked over and sat beside Laboni. She shuddered, but for her baby's sake, she didn't move. Henry placed a hand on her shoulder.
Henry (softly):
"You see, Laboni? For this child, you must stay calm. At least for our little princess, you must stay with me. You are the mother, and I am the father—that is the truth."
Laboni didn't respond. She only held her baby tighter. She understood—this child was both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. The baby's innocence and the fear for Rehan's life were crushing her from both sides.
Outside the room, Sara stood by the window. Seeing her mother breastfeeding her little sister gave her some relief—but her hatred toward her father hardened like stone in her young heart.
Laboni's silence and cold disregard became unbearable for Henry. He wanted her to react—to submit, to respond to his touch. But when Laboni ignored his presence entirely and focused only on her baby, Henry's primal brutality resurfaced.
Henry (roaring):
"You're ignoring me, Laboni? I'm talking to you!"
Laboni didn't answer. She gently stroked her baby's head, trying to soothe her. Henry lost control. In a fit of rage, he swept the expensive vases, lamps, and decorative items off the table. The crashing sound of breaking glass shook the room. The baby screamed again in fear.
Blinded by rage, Henry punched the dressing-table mirror. It shattered.
Henry (shouting):
"Everything is a lie! This love, this family—everything is a farce! Hate me if you want, but remember—you'll stay in this palace like an object. I will never set you free!"
Fuming, Henry destroyed the furniture and stormed out of the room, kicking the door shut loudly from outside.
The room was now filled with broken glass—and Laboni's suffocating sobs. Holding her baby close, she trembled. Near her feet lay a beautiful family photograph, its frame shattered.
Hearing the destruction, Sara hid under her blanket in fear. She realized her father's rage could turn the whole house into a graveyard.
Staring into the darkness, Laboni whispered to herself:
"Break everything, Henry. Destroy it all. But the hatred inside my heart—you will never break that. From today, your downfall begins."
Henry went straight to his private bar. Blood rushed through his head. Laboni's silent contempt had crushed his pride. He pulled out the strongest bottle of alcohol and drank straight from it, without a glass.
Outside, heavy rain poured down. Drunk, Henry collapsed onto the sofa. Laboni's slap and her hateful stare replayed in his mind. The more he drank, the more restless the beast inside him became.
Henry (muttering):
"I gave her everything… and she still hates me? I pulled her out of hell and put her in a palace, and she still thinks about that crippled brother?"
His eyes turned bloodshot. He laughed incoherently, slammed the table, and threw glasses in rage. Alcohol completely clouded his mind. Staggering to his feet, he decided Laboni needed to be taught a final lesson.
Holding the bottle, Henry walked unsteadily down the corridor. The sound of his boots echoed like the arrival of a demon.
Inside the room, Laboni was rocking her baby amid broken glass. She heard Henry's drunken footsteps and slurred curses. Her heart pounded in fear—she knew a drunk Henry was the most dangerous.
Henry began banging on the door.
Henry:
"Laboni! Open the door! You think you can avoid me? Tonight I'll show you who owns this house!"
Realizing Henry was completely out of control, Laboni grabbed her baby and ran to Sara's room. Sara sat frozen with fear. Laboni placed the baby in Sara's arms.
Laboni (whispering urgently):
"Sara, hold your little sister tight. No matter what happens, don't open this door. No matter what. Do you understand?"
Sara wiped her tears and clutched her sister close. Fear weighed heavily on her, but she obeyed.
Sara:
"Where are you going, Mom? Dad is shouting!"
Laboni:
"I'm coming back. Just lock the door tightly from inside."
Sara shut the door and bolted it. Laboni took a deep breath outside. The helplessness in her eyes turned into icy calculation. As Henry staggered down the corridor, Laboni didn't run. She stood still.
She knew that when Henry was drunk, his body and mind were disconnected. Hidden in her hand was something—perhaps a sharp shard of glass, or a chemical she once brought from her old laboratory.
As Henry approached, Laboni said calmly,
"I'm here, Henry. Don't disturb the children. I've come to you myself."
Henry raised the bottle and gave a sinister smile. His eyes burned red as he moved toward her. Slowly, Laboni led him toward the darker corner of the room, where broken glass and overturned furniture lay scattered. Tonight, Laboni was no longer prey—she had entered a deadly game.
Drunk, Henry grabbed Laboni's arm and dragged her into the room. The door slammed shut behind them—a sound that rang in Laboni's ears like a death sentence. Inside the vast room, it was just the two of them. Thunder and rain outside; suffocating silence within.
Henry staggered close, reeking of alcohol. His eyes blazed. Suddenly, he began unbuttoning his white shirt, one button at a time. His chest muscles trembled with rage and desire. Throwing the shirt aside, he advanced step by step.
Henry (in a low, terrifying voice):
"You've shown too much defiance, Dr. Laboni. I tolerated your contempt long enough. In this closed room, no one is coming to save you. Tonight, I'll remind you that you're nothing but a prisoner I bought."
Backing away, Laboni hit the wall. Before her stood a drunken monster. Henry planted one hand on the wall, trapping her.
Laboni (voice trembling, eyes fierce):
"You're not a man, Henry—you're an animal. In your drunken state, you've forgotten that your children are in the next room."
Henry:
"Don't even say their names! Tonight, you're mine. I'll take revenge for every insult."
Henry gripped Laboni's chin tightly. Revulsion surged through her body. But she wasn't crying anymore. As Henry leaned closer, she noticed the corner of his old diary peeking from his pocket—perhaps hiding more dark secrets.
Laboni knew the only way to survive was to use his drunkenness. She tightened her grip on the sharp shard of glass hidden beneath her saree.
As Henry leaned toward her neck, Laboni whispered:
"If you cross the line tonight, Henry, your dead body will be lying in this palace by morning. I may be a doctor—but revenge, I learned from you."