Chapter 1: The Sovereign Of Retribution
Somewhere out in the distant darkness of the night, the haunting chirps of crickets filled the cold silence. Inside the room, despite the icy chill of the air conditioning, Mehrimal Aizal felt her entire body drenched in a cold, suffocating sweat. She had envisioned this night countless times in her life, dreaming of a beautiful, gentle union filled with love. But she had never, even in her wildest nightmares, imagined that her fate would culminate in a horrific reality like this.
Suddenly, the heavy, deliberate thud of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. Her breath caught sharply in her throat. Closing her eyes tightly, she desperately prayed for death to claim her before that door could open. She begged the Almighty for a miracle, but deep down, she knew that the storm heading her way was ruthless enough to reduce everything she was to absolute ashes.
The door swung open with a violent, definitive bang. Shair Dil Khan stepped into the room.
He wasn't dressed as a groom. He wore a casual shirt and jeans, his jaw covered in a dark, rough stubble. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen from days of sleeplessness, burning with an unadulterated, monstrous hatred that locked instantly onto her huddled form. Without breaking eye contact, he slammed the door shut behind him, the force of it vibrating through the walls. He walked over to the side table, picked up the crystal jug, and poured himself a glass of water, drinking it down in one tense, aggressive motion.
Slowly, he unclasped his expensive wristwatch, setting it down on the table with a sharp click that sounded like a ticking time bomb. His dark eyes evaluated Mehrimal, who sat paralyzed with sheer terror. She wore a simple blue dress, her face entirely stripped of makeup. Her eyes, much like his, were painfully swollen and red from hours of continuous weeping.
"So, the great Professor Mehrimal is finally quiet," Shair Dil spoke, his deep voice dripping with venomous irony. "Where is all that dignity and pride you used to wear like armor in the university corridors?"
"Shair Dil... please," Mehrimal choked out, her voice barely a fractured whisper as she gripped the fabric of her simple blue dress. "You know I had nothing to do with what happened. It was an accident..."
"An accident?" Shair Dil let out a low, dangerous laugh that sent shivers straight down her spine.
He began advancing toward her, his fingers slowly, deliberately unbuttoning his shirt. The calculated calm in his movements was terrifying. With every step he took, the air in the room grew thinner. Before she could recoil or scramble away, his hand shot forward like lightning, his fingers wrapping around her jaw in a tight, unyielding grip.
A sharp gasp of agonizing pain escaped her lips. "Ah! Shair Dil, leave me... it hurts!"
She desperately clawed at his iron fingers, trying to pull his hand away from her face, but he didn't budge an inch. With a rough, powerful shove, he threw her back. Mehrimal lost her balance entirely, tumbling hard against the heavy velvet sheets of the bed.
"Hurts?" Shair Dil hovered over her instantly, pinning her down with his massive, intimidating frame and trapping her wrists against the mattress so tightly that escape became a distant illusion. "You don't even know what real pain is yet, Professor."
"You are a monster, Shair Dil!" Mehrimal cried out, tears blinding her vision as she looked up at the student who had turned into her ruthless captor. "You can force me into this marriage, you can trap me here, but you will only ever get my eternal hatred!"
"I never asked for your love, Mehrimal. In fact, I never even imagined that the woman occupying my bed would be someone whose very presence, whose very face makes me sick," he hissed, his face mere inches from hers, his ragged breath hot against her trembling skin. "But you brought this upon yourself. Your family's actions cost my sister her unborn child. She lost her baby because of you... and now, you will be the one to heal the bloodline you broke."
"No... please, Shair Dil, don't do this..."
"You will endure this disgrace every single day of your life, because you are worth nothing more," he whispered with dark finality, his grip tightening as he asserted his absolute authority as her husband, drowning her desperate protests in the sheer, unforgiving force of his vengeance.
Throughout the grueling, endless night, the room remained heavy with her muffled sobs and fractured gasps. But Shair Dil was completely blinded by the ruthless fervor of his retribution. He claimed his rights with an unrelenting intensity, treating her defiance as a challenge he was destined to break.
It was only when the first pale rays of the morning sun began to filter through the window curtains that he finally, exhausted by his own fury, fell into a deep sleep beside her.
As the morning light filled the room, Mehrimal lay utterly broken. Burying her face deep into the tear-soaked pillow, she wept silently in the gripping, cold shadows of humiliation and fear.
With the first ray of the morning sun, silence finally settled over the room, but the darkness in Mehrimal’s life had grown deeper than ever before. That night, it wasn't just a bond that had been forced upon them... it was the beginning of a war where both would have t
o pay with the price of their own souls.
