You Own My Heart ( Completed )

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the Aryan Mansion, its rays sneaking through the large windows and falling on Sanjana's tear-streaked face. The dried trails of sorrow on her cheeks were proof of the restless night she had endured. Once upon a time, she had dreamed of a life filled with freedom and happiness. If someone had told her three months ago that she would be trapped in a grand palace, she would have laughed it off. But fate had played a cruel joke on her, and reality had struck harder than she could have ever imagined.

Sanjana sat in the balcony, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring into the distance. The vastness of the mansion was overwhelming; it seemed like a world of its own, detached from reality. Beyond its high walls, she could see nothing. Yet, the vibrant flowers in the garden and the flocks of birds chirping around were the only things that brought her a sense of peace. These were the moments she clung to, small fragments of solace in an otherwise suffocating existence.

After finishing her morning chores, she stepped into the garden, feeding the birds and watering the plants. It was the only time she felt like herself.

"Sanjana maa," Koushalya's voice interrupted her thoughts. The elderly maid had been in the mansion for years and treated Sanjana like her own daughter.

"Sir is waiting at the dining table for breakfast."

Sanjana silently followed her inside. Aryan sat at the table, a newspaper in his hands, his face impassive. She took a seat opposite him, her gaze firmly fixed on her plate.

"Sir, shall I serve breakfast?" Koushalya asked hesitantly.

Aryan gave a brief nod. "Hmm, yes."

The meal passed in heavy silence. Aryan stole glances at her, but she never looked up. Once he was done, he stood and left for his office without a word.

After he left, Sanjana turned to Koushalya. "Maa, I'm going out to meet a friend. I'll be back by evening."

Koushalya's face paled. "Maa, are you sure? If sir comes to know—"

"I'll be back soon, don't worry."

Sanjana stepped out, the first time in months. But when she reached her friend's residence, she was met with disappointment. The house was vacant, and none of the neighbors knew where her friend had gone. With a heavy heart, she returned to the mansion.

By nightfall, she had dinner early, deliberately avoiding Aryan. She retreated to her room and leaned against the window, staring outside. The growl of an engine shattered the silence, and her heart clenched. A black Lamborghini Aventador glided through the gate. Aryan was home.

Panicked, she turned off the lights and crawled into bed, shutting her eyes tightly.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. The door burst open with a bang. Light flooded the room as Aryan switched it on. His face was dark with fury.

His blazer landed on the floor as he stormed towards the bed. He ripped the duvet off and grabbed her wrist, yanking her up.

"Stop pretending! I know you're awake."

Sanjana struggled against his grip. "Let go of me!"

"Where did you go?"

"That's none of your business!"

Aryan's jaw clenched. "I told you to stay inside! How dare you go out without my permission? Do you not understand that it's for your own safety?"

"I am not your slave to follow your every rule," she shot back, her voice defiant.

His eyes darkened. "There isn't a single person who dares to speak against me. And yet, you..."

"Why do you keep me here like a hostage?" she demanded.

"I am not hurting you, Sanjana!" he snapped. "Why can't you just listen?"

"I will go out again. You cannot stop me."

His patience snapped. "Damn it, then you deserve to be punished."

Before she could react, he shoved her onto the bed and hovered over her.

"Bastard! Let me go!" Sanjana screamed, struggling under his weight.

Aryan's breathing was ragged with anger.

"What are you doing, Aryan? Stay away from me!" she pleaded, panic rising in her voice.

But he didn't stop. He grabbed her wrist, and in the struggle, the fabric of her nightdress tore. Her scream filled the room, but Aryan was too blinded by rage to hear it. He held her down, his strength overpowering her small frame. His lips crashed onto hers, the taste of her tears bitter against his mouth.

Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. She thrashed beneath him, her sobs muffled against his chest. His grip tightened as he left marks on her neck, venting his frustration on her delicate skin.

Then, reality hit him like a punch to the gut.

He looked down at her, her body shaking, her face turned away, tears falling silently. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he realized what he had done.

Sanjana's voice was broken when she spoke. "How could you do this to me, you monster?"

Aryan pulled away, his own breath unsteady. He staggered back and sank onto the couch, gripping his hair in frustration. He had lost control. He had hurt her.

Sanjana curled into herself, gripping the duvet tightly around her, sobbing uncontrollably.

Aryan ran a hand down his face and stood. He walked to the table, picked up a small container of ointment, and returned to the bed.

"I might have... I might have gone too far," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Sanjana. Let me apply this medicine."

"Get out, Mr. Chaitanya," she spat.

Aryan exhaled sharply. "Don't test my patience."

When she didn't respond, he yanked the duvet away and gently applied the ointment to the swollen marks on her skin. She flinched under his touch, her body trembling. When he was done, he covered her again and hesitated before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Without another word, he left the room.

Sanjana sobbed into the pillow until exhaustion pulled her into a restless sleep.

Meanwhile, Aryan stood in his balcony, staring at her window. His mind was in turmoil.

"What have I done?" he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Her terrified face flashed in his mind. The way she had struggled, the bruises on her skin, the blood at the corner of her lips. His chest tightened painfully. He had never felt this kind of regret before.

"You idiot, Aryan," he cursed himself. "How will you ever face her again? How will you fix this?"

He slumped onto the couch, guilt clawing at him. Her cries echoed in his ears, haunting him. The memory of her small body trembling beneath him made his blood run cold.

He didn't sleep that night. Instead, he sat there, tormented by the realization that he had broken something he could never mend.

**

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