chapter 7

Amaira woke up the next morning with an ache in her body and a heaviness in her eyes. Though she had slept, her dreams had been a restless string of nightmares, haunting her with fears she couldn’t quite name. She sat up slowly, the room’s silence amplifying the weight of her thoughts.After freshening up, she made her way to the kitchen. Cooking had always been her escape—a ritual that brought her a semblance of peace. As she prepared her special Indian masala chai, the comforting aroma of cardamom, ginger, and cloves filled the air, momentarily easing her troubled heart.She poured herself a cup and smiled faintly, taking in the soothing fragrance. This was her moment, her little slice of happiness in an otherwise chaotic world. Just as she brought the cup to her lips, the door burst open, startling her.Scar Boss strode in, his dark, commanding aura filling the room. His piercing gaze met hers, and for a moment, they stood frozen, staring at each other. Amaira felt her heartbeat quicken, but it was Scar Boss who broke the eye contact first.“Where are the servants?” he asked, his voice sharp as he sat down at the table.Amaira hesitated, unsure of how to answer. “I... I gave them a day off.”His eyes darkened. “A day off?” He slammed his hand on the table, making Amaira flinch. “And who gave you the authority to make that decision?”“I thought they could use a break,” she said softly, her voice trembling. She had overheard one of the maids complaining about the lack of holidays and felt a pang of empathy. Giving them a day off had seemed like the right thing to do, especially since she thought Scar Boss wouldn’t be home.His anger simmered visibly, and for a moment, Amaira thought he might lash out. But then his expression shifted, and he leaned back, his tone deceptively calm.“Alright. What’s done is done,” he said, and Amaira let out a small sigh of relief.But her relief was short-lived.“Since you’ve taken it upon yourself to dismiss the staff, I suppose you’ll be handling all their duties today. Breakfast, laundry, cleaning—it’s all yours,” he said with a smirk.Her stomach sank at his words. She didn’t mind hard work, but the disrespect in his tone stung. Still, she nodded quietly and went to prepare his breakfast, leaving her own tea untouched.Twenty minutes later, Amaira placed a plate of food in front of Scar Boss. Before she could retreat to the kitchen, he spoke.“Go make me some tea.”She paused, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “What kind of tea would you like? Black, green, or milk?”“The one you were drinking,” he replied curtly, his eyes fixed on his phone.Surprised, Amaira nodded and returned to the kitchen. Despite his harsh demeanor, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride as she brewed her special chai. She believed in the magic of her tea—it was her little gift to the world, a spark of joy in a cup.Carrying the tray with the tea and some biscuits, she approached the table with a small smile. “Here’s your tea,” she said, setting the cup before him.Scar Boss took the cup, brought it to his lips, and paused. His expression soured, and he placed the cup back on the tray with disdain.“Do you call this tea? It’s worse than poison,” he said coldly.Amaira’s chest tightened with anger. “But you didn’t even—”Before she could finish, he slapped the tray from her hands. The cup shattered against the floor, spilling tea everywhere.Amaira stared at the mess, her heart sinking. Her voice cracked as she spoke, “Why did you throw it?”Instead of answering, Scar Boss grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to look into his merciless eyes.“What did you think?” he hissed. “That I’d praise a lowly servant like you? Let me remind you—you are nothing here. I am your master, and whatever I say or do is law. Now, clean this mess. Immediately.”He shoved her away and stormed out of the room, leaving Amaira trembling.Amaira knelt on the floor, cleaning the spilled tea and broken shards with numb hands. Her mind raced with questions. Why did he hate her so much? Why had he even married her if all he wanted was to torment her? Was it just to trap her in this twisted game?The rest of the day passed in a blur of chores. She worked tirelessly, her body moving mechanically while her heart remained heavy. Despite her efforts to focus on the tasks at hand, the same questions circled in her mind, unanswered and relentless.By 11 p.m., Amaira was drained, but before heading to bed, she decided to call Raya.“Hello, Raya. How’s Dilip?” Amaira asked, her voice barely above a whisper.“Just the same,” Raya replied. “But he’s stable.”Amaira sighed in relief, but before she could respond, a familiar male voice interrupted.“Hello, Amaira?”Her heart skipped a beat. “Raven? What are you doing there?”“Oh, Amaira,” Raven said, his tone warm. “How have you been? I’m here helping Raya with Dilip.”Amaira’s grip on the phone tightened. “That’s... kind of you,” she said, forcing a smile through her words.Raya quickly added, “Don’t worry, Amaira. Raven’s been a great help, and your brother is doing well.”Amaira nodded to herself, then asked softly, “Raya, can we talk privately?”“Of course,” Raya said, moving away from Raven.Amaira took a deep breath. “You haven’t told anyone about my... marriage, have you?”“No, I haven’t. I don’t even know your husband’s name. You can trust me, Amaira,” Raya assured her.“I know. It’s just...” Amaira hesitated. “Raven doesn’t know. And I can’t let him find out, not yet. I love him, Raya. I always have. But this marriage—it happened so suddenly. I didn’t even have a chance to explain.”Raya’s voice softened. “So, what will you do?”“I’ll tell him eventually,” Amaira said, her voice trembling. “But not now. When the time comes, I’ll break it to him face-to-face. I owe him that much. He deserves the truth, even if it breaks him. Even if it breaks me.”Amaira hung up, her heart heavy with the weight of her words. As she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, a tear slipped down her cheek.This wasn’t the life she had dreamed of. Trapped in a loveless marriage, working tirelessly for a man who seemed to thrive on her misery. Yet she stayed, for her brother’s sake, sacrificing her own happiness.Burying her face in her pillow, Amaira sobbed quietly, her tears soaking the fabric. The night swallowed her pain, leaving only the sound of her broken heart echoing in the silence.