Ananya’s POV

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the dim light. The first thing I saw was the ceiling, white, plain, unfamiliar.

This… wasn’t my room.

A sharp throb pulsed at my forehead. I winced, reaching up to touch it, and felt the rough texture of a bandage under my fingers.

A flash of memory hit me, sitting in a taxi, the sudden screech of tires, the violent jolt, then nothing.

My breath caught. I sat up too quickly, my head spinning.

This didn’t look like a hospital.

The bed was soft, the sheets expensive. The air smelled faintly of leather and cologne, not antiseptic. My eyes darted around until they froze, on him.

A man sat across from me in a deep armchair, his posture relaxed but his gaze locked on me. Dark brown eyes, unreadable. An expensive suit.

Recognition hit like ice water. He was the man who came with the woman, his fiancée, I think?, to book our band for their wedding.

My mouth went dry.
Why is he here?
More importantly, why am I here?

I screamed the questions in my head, but my throat felt tight, my voice refusing to come out.

He didn’t look away.

“Sing,” he said at last.

It wasn’t a request. It was an order. His tone left no room for refusal.

My lips parted, but no sound came. My chest felt heavy, my heartbeat loud in my ears. “I… I can’t,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His gaze sharpened, like a predator watching prey. “You can. And you will.”

My fingers clenched the sheets. “Why… why am I here?”

He ignored the question completely, leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees. “Your voice,” he said slowly, as if weighing each word, “do you know what it does?”

I shook my head, terrified.

“You woke up the monster that’s been sleeping for years, darling,” he said, his voice low and almost amused.

I stared at him, frozen.

“You make me feel alive again,” he added, and then he laughed.

God, that laugh, deep, twisted, dangerous. It wasn’t the laugh of a happy man. It was the kind of sound that makes your stomach drop.

I swallowed hard, my eyes darting around the room.

He’s insane. My mind screamed it over and over. He’s not just creepy...he’s dangerous.

My gaze searched desperately for anything, lamp, vase, anything I could grab to defend myself.

But before I could move, he stood up from the chair.

The shift in his height made me shrink back instinctively. My body crawled backward until my spine hit the headboard with a soft thud.

He didn’t stop. He closed the distance between us, then sat right on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.

Tears blurred my vision. My breathing was quick, shallow, almost painful.

“Ananya…” he murmured, his tone strange, soft, but carrying something far more dangerous underneath. “I’ve missed you. A lot.”

He leaned closer. My whole body went rigid.

When his face came near my neck, I froze completely. I could feel the warmth of his breath as he inhaled deeply, like he was memorizing my scent.

“Darling,” he whispered, and I could feel his smirk without even seeing it, “once, you freed me… but who’s going to free you from me?”

Author’s POV

He suddenly grabbed her leg, yanking her down onto the bed. Her heart slammed against her ribs as he loomed over her, his shadow swallowing her whole.

Panic surged through her. She thrashed, trying to shove him away, but his hands shot out, catching her wrists and pinning them hard above her head.

“Please! Leave me… Who are you? What do you want from me?!” she screamed, her voice shaking.

His eyes, which had been half-lidded, snapped open fully at the sound. A slow, unsettling smile curled at his lips.

“Your voice, darling…” he whispered, his tone dripping with obsession, “it’s making me stronger.”

He leaned down until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. She flinched at the heat of his breath, then gasped when he pressed a lingering kiss there.

Her scream cut through the room, raw and terrified, but he didn’t recoil. If anything, he seemed to drink it in.

“Scream more, darling,” he murmured, almost in ecstasy. “I want to hear all of it.”

His mouth found her neck, teeth grazing skin before he sucked hard, leaving a mark.

“Ahh....please!” she cried out, her voice breaking as she kicked wildly.

But he only shifted, his legs tangling with hers, locking her in place. She could feel the strength in him, unyielding, immovable, as if he had no intention of letting her go.

In one swift motion, he yanked off his belt. The sound of leather sliding free made her stomach twist in dread. Before she could react, he caught her wrists again, forcing them down against the bedpost, wrapping the belt tight until the leather bit into her skin.

She screamed, raw, panicked, but it only seemed to amuse him.

His fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, pulling it open before shrugging it off, his movements unhurried, almost deliberate. He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving her trembling form.

When he leaned in, his face was inches from hers, too close, too dangerous. She twisted her wrists in desperation, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Please… don’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

His hand shot out, gripping her jaw with a force that made her wince. Then his mouth crashed onto hers, rough, hungry, unyielding. His lips bit and pulled at hers until she tasted blood. She sobbed into the kiss, tears running hot down her cheeks, her mind refusing to believe this was real.

When he finally pulled back, her lips throbbed, swollen and stinging. He traced a hand down toward her top, the heat of his palm making her flinch, then suddenly, he stopped.

He bent close to her ear, his voice low and dangerous.
“Ryan is tired… he has a lot of work to do,” he murmured. “Let him rest… for now.”

Then, without another word, he stood, buttoned his shirt halfway, and walked out, locking the door behind him.

She lay there, tied fast to the bedpost, her wrists aching from the leather digging into her skin.

“HELP!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls until her throat burned. But no one came.

She pulled, twisted, fought against the belt until her hands were raw, but it held firm, unyielding, trapping her in that silent, suffocating room.