The ride back to Rael's mansion was wordless.
Ananya stared out the tinted window, the cold glass against her temple. He didn't touch her. Didn't speak. But the silence was louder than any scream.
Fifteen days ago, she had run. Fifteen days of stolen breath. Fifteen days of remembering who she was.
But now, she was back in his world. Back in his grip.
---
The moment the doors shut behind them, something shifted. Rael tossed his coat aside and turned sharply.
"Was he touching you?"
Ananya blinked. "What?"
"The guesthouse owner," he said coldly. "Or did you find someone else while hiding?"
"I wasn't hiding," she replied, steady. "I was breathing."
His hand slammed into the wall beside her face.
She didn't flinch.
But something inside her cracked.
"You don't get to decide when to breathe without me," he hissed.
"Then kill me," she said quietly. "Because I won't ask you for permission to exist."
Rael's eyes burned. But he stepped back. Turned away.
"I didn't bring you back to talk," he said. "You wanted to play wife, didn't you?"
She stared at his back.
Something in his voice had changed.
Sharper. Crueler.
---
The abuse didn't begin with fists. It began with isolation.
He took her phone. Revoked her access to the internet.
Locked the gates.
The staff was replaced. The new ones never looked her in the eye.
He changed the locks on her bedroom — again. But this time, locked her in at night.
She ate alone. Dressed alone. Lived in a palace-sized prison where even the mirrors stopped reflecting anything human.
---
The emotional attacks came next.
"Look at you. You think you're strong? You couldn't even survive fifteen days without being found."
"You talk big, but you came back. Crawled back."
"No one else wants a broken little doll like you."
Ananya stopped replying. Stopped eating properly. Stopped sleeping.
She wandered through the mansion in silence, like a ghost haunting her own body.
She would sit in the corner of the library, knees to her chest, watching the door. Just in case.
Rael would come in sometimes, just to see her. Just to remind her she wasn't alone. Or free.
---
The breakdown came on the twelfth night.
He'd come back drunk. Slamming doors. Calling her name like it was a curse.
She stayed in the dark. Hoping he wouldn't find her.
But he did.
He grabbed her arm roughly, yanking her out of her corner.
"Why won't you speak?" he snarled. "You had so much to say before. Say it now!"
She looked at him with hollow eyes.
"You broke it," she said.
"What?"
"My voice."
Rael stared at her. And for a second, something flickered in his expression — fear, maybe.
Then it was gone.
He shoved her back. She hit the floor hard. But she didn't cry. Didn't scream.
She just sat there. Shaking. Silent.
---
Later that night, she curled into herself in the bed. Rael stood at the doorway. Watching.
But she didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't even blink.
Because in that moment, Ananya had finally broken.
And she didn't know how to come back.
--