The walls were suffocating. Not made of stone, but of fear, power, and a man whose presence was both a curse and a command. She had tried to resist, but the moment she crossed his threshold, the world she once knew was shattered. There was no escape from him, no place to hide, for he was everywhere - his voice, his touch, the cold, calculating glint in his eyes.

She had been warned, but she hadn’t listened. Now, her every breath was measured, her every move watched. He didn’t need chains to keep her captive. He had mastered the art of control, bending her mind and soul in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

In this house, there was no room for defiance. Every day, she learned a new lesson in submission, a cruel dance where she was always the pawn, never the queen. And yet, something darker lingered beneath his commands - something insidious, something that whispered she might never truly leave.

She is the saint of this story.... Nikita Chauhan.