Later that night....

Anaya lay on the silk sheets, tossing.

But sleep didn’t come.

Instead, heat pooled in her core as her mind replayed his kiss. The way his mouth tasted. The scent of danger clinging to his skin. His hand on her thigh. His voice in her ear.

In her dream, he pinned her to the bed.

"You like being under me, don’t you?" he purred.

He spread her legs, his mouth trailing down her body. Tongue swirling around her nipples. Fingers sliding between her folds. She cried out, arching.

“I want to hear you scream my name,” dream-Vinay whispered.

She moaned. “Vinay…”

She woke up panting, her body slick with sweat—and arousal.

Damn him.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

And worst of all... she was his.

Morning light spilled through the glass windows of Vinay’s mansion, but there was nothing soft about the atmosphere at the breakfast table.

Anaya sat stiffly, dressed in a silk robe that barely covered her thighs—because her clothes had somehow gone missing from her suitcase. Vinay sat across from her, reading the newspaper, calm and calculated.

“You did this on purpose,” she said, tugging the robe tighter.

He didn’t look up. “You’re in my house. I decide what covers my property.”

“I’m not your property.”

His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers. “You will be. I just haven’t fucked the rebellion out of you yet.”

Heat flushed her cheeks—and between her legs.

She hated how his voice alone could make her ache.

Later that day..

Vinay took her to his private club. Not the dancing kind. The dangerous kind.

Men in suits, whispers of cocaine deals, bloodstained money, and eyes that lingered too long.

One man—tall, tattooed, clearly a mafia underling—had the nerve to approach Anaya while Vinay was in a meeting.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Did Raichand really lock you down? A body like that deserves more than a rich asshole.”

Anaya tried to walk away, but the man caught her arm.

Suddenly, a gun clicked.

The room fell silent.

Vinay stood behind them, eyes black with rage, pistol in hand, aimed at the man’s temple.

“Touch her again,” he said, voice like frozen steel, “and I’ll make your death a fucking masterpiece.”

The man paled. “Vinay—bro—it was just a joke—”

Vinay pulled the trigger.

The bullet missed, grazing the man’s ear. Enough to make him scream and collapse.

“Next time, I won’t miss,” Vinay growled. He turned to Anaya, eyes still burning. “Come. Now.”

She followed, heart thudding like a drum.

In his office upstairs:-

He slammed the door behind them, backing her against it. His hand gripped her throat—not choking, just a warning.

“You are mine,” he said. “Every man in this city will learn it the hard way.”

“You can’t control who talks to me,” she whispered.

“I control everything. Especially the way you fucking look at other men.”

His lips crashed onto hers. This kiss was punishment—angry, violent, addictive.

He bit her lip, sucked her tongue, his thigh wedging between hers again. She whimpered as his hand slid beneath the robe, fingers grazing her soaked panties.

“You get wet for danger,” he murmured. “That’s why you dream about me.”

Her breath hitched.

“You’ve been thinking about my hands on you, haven’t you?” he growled.

“Vinay…”

He slipped two fingers under her panties, brushing against her clit. “Say it.”

“No.”

“Say. It.”

She moaned. “Yes… I dreamed about you.”

His fingers moved slowly, drawing circles, teasing her.

“And now?” he asked, mouth on her neck.

“I hate you,” she breathed—but her hips rolled against his hand.

He laughed. “Your cunt tells a different story, jaan.”

---

Just as she neared the edge, he pulled away.

She gasped, panting. “What the hell?”

Vinay smirked, licking his fingers. “You don’t get to come until you beg.”

Anaya stared at the black satin dress laid out on the bed. If it could even be called a dress. It barely covered her thighs, had a plunging neckline, and a slit that climbed dangerously high up her leg.

She turned to Vinay, standing near the door in a black tuxedo, looking every inch the devil in disguise.

“I’m not wearing this,” she said.

He walked forward, slow and deadly. “You’ll wear what I give you.”

“You want me to look like your whore in front of everyone?”

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “No. I want every man in that room to see what they’ll never have.”

His thumb brushed over her lips. “And when they look, I’ll remind them you belong to me.”

The party ,

The ballroom was drenched in gold, filled with dangerous men and their plastic-smiled wives. Mafia dons, corrupt politicians, arms dealers. The air reeked of perfume and blood money.

But Anaya walked in beside Vinay, head high, body hugged by the scandalous dress, heels clicking like warning shots.

Every man’s eyes followed her.

Vinay noticed.

He tightened his grip on her waist.

“Smile, jaan,” he whispered. “If one of them touches you, I’ll break their fucking fingers at the dinner table.”

She swallowed, but gave a fake smile.

Halfway through the evening, a rival don approached, trying to kiss her hand. Vinay didn’t wait.

He grabbed Anaya by the waist, turned her in front of everyone, and kissed her.

Hard.

Possessive.

Tongue deep, hand gripping her ass through the thin silk, his other palm around her throat as he bent her into him.

Guests gasped.

Vinay pulled away, licking her bottom lip.

“Mine,” he growled to the room.

Nobody touched her again.

Later that night"

She didn’t speak on the drive back. But her body was already betraying her—throbbing, trembling, aching.

Vinay kicked the door open the second they got inside.

“You kept teasing me,” he growled, backing her against the wall. “Smiling. Breathing. Wearing that fucking dress.”

She hitched her breath. “I wore it because you made me.”

He grinned darkly. “And now I’ll rip it off.”

He did.

The silk tore like paper under his fingers. She gasped, naked beneath him, trembling as his eyes drank her in.

“You’re beautiful when you’re scared,” he whispered.

He lifted her up, pressed her to the wall, and thrust into her with a growl.

No more teasing.

No more warnings.

Just raw, possessive lust.

She cried out, legs wrapping around his waist, nails digging into his back.

“Vinay—!”

He thrust harder. “Say it. Who owns you?”

“Never,” she gasped.

He slammed into her deeper. “Wrong answer.”

Again. Again.

Until her moans became pleas.

“Say it, Anaya.”

Her body shook.

“You,” she whispered. “You own me.”

He kissed her again—filthy, rough, and addictive.

“Good girl,” he murmured.

---

They didn’t stop until dawn.

By the time she collapsed onto the bed, her body marked by his teeth, her thighs sore and her heart confused, she knew the truth.

She didn’t just want him.

She was falling for the devil.

And the devil never lets you go.

.

Morning light painted the room in gold, but everything about Anaya felt raw and bruised — in the most sinful way.

She stirred under silk sheets, muscles aching from last night. Every part of her screamed Vinay. His scent clung to her skin, his bite marks bloomed like tattoos across her thighs, her collarbone, her inner breast.

She blinked open her eyes — and found him sitting beside the bed, shirtless, sipping black coffee, staring at her like a king admiring his favorite possession.

“You didn’t run in the night,” he said.

“I was too sore to move.”

He smirked. “Good.”

Then — oddly — he reached out, brushing a knuckle down her cheek.

Soft.

Gentle.

Wrong.

“You don’t have to act like you care,” she said sharply.

Vinay leaned closer, voice low. “I don’t care.”

Then, softer, “I just like what’s mine to look untouched by anyone else.”

She turned her face away, but her pulse quickened. He was possessive, dominant, brutal—but now there was something dangerous behind his softness.

That scared her more.

———————

Hours later, when he went for a meeting....

Anaya grabbed her chance.

She slipped out of bed, body still weak but determined. She found one of the guards’ phones, used it to track the exit codes, and bolted from the back gate, barefoot, wearing only a robe she found near the bathroom.

Run, her mind screamed. Before you forget how to say no to him.

But she barely made it down the long gravel drive before a black car skidded in front of her, cutting her off.

The door opened.

Vinay stepped out, shirt sleeves rolled, jaw clenched.

He didn’t speak.

He just grabbed her by the waist, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her back like a prize he’d kill to keep.

Back inside....

He kicked the door shut with his foot and threw her on the bed like a ragdoll.

“You thought you could run from me?”

Anaya tried to sit up. “You can’t keep me like a prisoner!”

Vinay’s eyes burned with fury. “You think this is a prison? Baby, this is a fucking paradise compared to what you’ve earned now.”

He ripped the robe open. “You wanted punishment? You just earned it.”

---

The Rough punishment:

He flipped her over, grabbing a silk tie from the drawer, binding her wrists behind her back.

“No begging,” he growled. “Not tonight.”

Then he bent her over the edge of the bed, pulled her hips up, and slammed into her from behind — without warning.

She screamed. Not from pain — but from the overwhelming, brutal pleasure.

His hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back as he fucked her hard, deep, relentless.

“You think you can run?” Thrust.

“You belong to me.” Thrust.

“Your cunt remembers me even when your mouth lies.” Thrust.

She was moaning uncontrollably, skin burning with each slap of his hips, her knees shaking as he hit all the right places.

Then his hand came down — hard — on her ass.

Once. Twice.

She cried out.

“Louder,” he growled.

“Vinay!” she screamed.

“Again.”

“Vinay, please—!”

“Now you beg.”

He wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her back against his chest, still inside her. “Beg for your punishment.”

She whimpered, voice cracking. “Punish me… please…”

He flipped her over and pounded into her harder, grabbing her throat, biting her shoulder, licking the sweat off her skin like a predator claiming his kill.

She came screaming, collapsing into him, tears spilling down her cheeks — from pleasure, from confusion, from the terrifying addiction she now had to his cruelty.

---

Afterward, he pulled her into his chest, brushing his lips against her temple.

“I don’t care if you hate me,” he whispered. “But you will never leave me.”

And she knew he meant it.

Even if it killed them both.

———————————————————————

To be continued...

Next chapter glimpses,

Flashbacks of Vinay’s dark past

A jealous Anaya moment

A slow, possessive shower scene

And their first time where he lets her take some control… only to flip it in the end