The grand dining hall was drowning in the flickering glow of a hundred candles. A massive mahogany table was laid out with a feast that looked like a king's ransom, but to Arisa, it felt like a funeral spread. She stood at the edge of the room, wearing the sleeveless black silk gown Abir had chosen. It hugged her curves like a second skin, making her feel exposed and elegant all at once.
The sound of heavy boots echoed against the marble floor. Abir Khan entered, looking lethal in an all-black tailored suit. He walked straight to her, stopping close enough for her to feel the radiating heat from his body.
"I knew black would look like a sin on your skin," Abir whispered, his voice a deep vibration that made her knees weak. He reached out, his cold fingers tracing the bare line of her shoulder.
"Why are you doing this? Just let me go home," Arisa pleaded, her voice barely a whisper.
Abir let out a dry, dark chuckle. He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "Go home? My world has been in darkness for years, Arisa. Now that I've found my light, do you really think I'll let it flicker away?"
He guided her to the table with a firm hand on her waist. He personally served her, his movements graceful yet dominant. The silence was heavy, broken only by the clinking of silver against china.
Suddenly, Abir pulled a photograph from his pocket and slid it across the table. It was a picture of Arisa's boyfriend, taken just hours ago near the city library. Arisa's fork clattered to the floor.
"Is he still waiting for you?" Abir asked, his tone deceptively calm. "Poor boy. He has no idea his precious little girl is currently bound to my world. I could make him disappear before the sun rises. Is that what you want?"
"No! Please... don't hurt him!" Arisa cried out, her eyes filling with tears. "I'll do whatever you want! Just leave him alone."
Abir stood up and walked around the table, looming over her like a shadow. He tilted her head back, forcing her to look into his hungry, golden eyes.
"Whatever I want?" He repeated, his thumb tracing her trembling jawline. "Then remember this—from this moment on, his name is a ghost. You don't think of him. You don't breathe for him. Your body, your soul, and your very heartbeat now belong to Abir Khan."
He leaned in closer, his nose dipping into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent with a terrifying possessiveness.
"Finish your dinner, my darling. I want you strong. Because tonight, when I come to your room, I don't want to see any locks on the door. I hate it when my property tries to keep me out."
He pressed a lingering, burning kiss to her forehead—not an act of love, but a seal of ownership. With a final, dark smirk, he drained his glass of red wine and walked out, leaving Arisa trembling in the golden light. She realized then that she wasn't just his prisoner; she was becoming his obsession.
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