TERE AA JANE SE

Ch 33 you are just a slave !

As Hiya returned with a glass of water, he, in his anger, didn't grab it from her hand. Instead, he lifted it forcefully and threw it onto the floor with full strength, shattering the glass into countless pieces.

The shards scattered across the floor, and in the heat of the moment, Hiya, now aware of Ahil's vengeance, nervously placed her hands over her ears and closed her eyes.

In a matter of seconds, Hiya cautiously opened her eyes, finding Ahil seated on the sofa, clad in a white shirt with an intense demeanor.

Gathering her courage, she approached him, asking tentatively, "A... Ahil , is there something that's bothering you...?"

Before she could complete her sentence, Ahil, overwhelmed by a mix of anger and deep-seated hatred, impulsively grabbed her thick, long black hair without a second thought. With a forceful yank, he bellowed, "I don't merely experience anger, Hiya. My feelings towards you go beyond that – it's a perpetual hatred. While anger may subside in a moment, this kind of hatred lingers for a lifetime. No matter how much one desires, such hatred cannot be eradicated. I harbor an enduring resentment towards you, Hiya!" The intensity of his words conveyed the depth of his emotions and the complexity of the situation.

"You women are truly greedy. And you, Hiya, turned out to be just like that. Did you marry me for anything other than money?" Ahil's eyes became slightly moist as he spoke, but he couldn't contain his silence today. It felt like he was unleashing years of pent-up frustration on one woman.

Pausing briefly, he began to roar again, "What do you think of yourself, Hiya? Will you go anywhere without telling, considering yourself the mistress of this house?"

Then, after a momentary pause, he yelled, "But don't forget that your place in this house is worse than that of the servants. You are my slave and will always remain so. Because you created this place for yourself... never consider yourself the mistress of this house. And yes, you have no right to question me. Stick to the job you were brought here for and don't try to go beyond that. Otherwise, I will kill you...!”

Ahil, unleashing his pent-up frustration, forcefully separated himself from Hiya and pushed her away, a manifestation of his anger resonating in the tumultuous atmosphere as he left the house.

On the other hand, Hiya, who had been reveling in the illusion of their one-day love, now felt like the dream had turned into a nightmare. The morning, which started beautifully, now seemed like a distant memory, fading away like a fleeting fantasy.

In her thoughts, she pondered the cruel irony of fate. Unfortunate souls like her don't attract princes but are rather drawn to monsters like Utkarsh or become commodities for buyers like Ahil, who held the power to shape destinies as they pleased.

Her desire was to escape Ahil's house, mirroring her past escape from Utkarsh's clutches. However, the reality struck hard – there was no home or sanctuary to seek refuge. Her brother and sister-in-law, driven by the thirst for money, were not above the idea of selling her to someone's once again, adding to the complexity and despair of Hiya's situation.

Her eyes, filled not just with tears but with the weight of profound sorrow, reflected the deep humiliation etched on her heart. Each passing day, her relationships faced relentless degradation, despite the ceremonial vows they had once solemnized. Hiya's existence seemed more akin to that of a slave than a wife.

In a cruel spectacle witnessed by the entire household staff, he publicly shamed Hiya. The whispers of the domestic workers transformed into a cacophony of tales, each more damaging than the last, weaving a tapestry of gossip that resounded painfully in Hiya's ears.

Instead of leading Hiya to their room, they engaged in conversations with the staff, subjecting her to disparaging remarks and speculative discussions about her character. The weight of their words added another layer to Hiya's already burdened soul.

"We believed we were extending respect as befitting the master's wife, but she revealed herself to be something entirely different," they said. These words, like a relentless echo, etched a new chapter of degradation in Hiya's turbulent and tormented life.

The gossip continued as they speculated about Hiya, suggesting that she might be Master's secret lover. Such conjectures were seen as commonplace in the realm of the affluent.

One of the voices chimed in, expressing a previous admiration for Hiya but now deeming her unworthy of the title "Madam." The sentiment was fueled by a belief that women who exploit their beauty are inherently flawed. In a disturbing comparison, they claimed that the servants were, in fact, superior to such women.

After weaving these disparaging narratives, the group callously left Hiya alone, abandoned in the wake of their judgmental words. Hearing their scornful remarks, she felt not only personally attacked but also saw her character tarnished in the eyes of others. Tears welled up, falling from her eyes in a cascade of shattered emotions. The atmosphere hung heavy with the weight of humiliation and isolation.

The impact of Ahil's words and his anger on her was so profound that she didn't even realise the extent of it. The glass bangles of vibrant red shattered in her hands, leaving fragments embedded in her palms, painting both hands in the semblance of blood.

Feeling helpless, Hiya made a strenuous attempt to compose herself and navigate to her room. Her hands, not yet healed from previous wounds, now bore a fresh injury.

Struggling, she entered the room and, unable to sit on the bed, lowered herself to the floor, leaning against the bedframe. The bed belonged to her master, and she would only sit on it if he permitted. Exhausted, she mumbled to herself, "Do you think of yourself as the mistress? But don't forget your place in this house is worse than that of the servants." The echoes of Ahil's words haunted her again, prompting her to cry out in despair, hands covering her ears.