Aira paced back and forth in the bedroom, her heart thudding against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions - ignorance, fear, anger, rebellion. She had tried everything to escape Arsh's hold over her, but nothing worked. He controlled every aspect of her life, from the people she spoke to, to when she could leave this mansion. Her freedom, her life, felt like it was slipping away into nothing.

It's been a week since they came here and although Arsh didn't take her back to that room, she wasn't allowed to step out of this one.

Taken out of a cage just to be pushed into another. She almost begged him to take her back to the estate atleast, not her family but his and yet he refused.

He claimed she didn't deserve their generosity. As if someone who is kidnapped will open their arms and stay there forever.

She stopped in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with hollow eyes. She didn't even recognize herself anymore. The woman in the mirror was desperate, fragile, but there was a flicker of defiance in her that hadn't died yet.

Her gaze hardened. He wants control? I will give him control. But on my terms.

An idea, dangerous and thrilling, began to form. If she couldn't win by running, maybe she could, by turning the tables.

Her heart raced as she thought about it. The idea terrified her - what if she failed? What if it made things worse? But then again, what more did she have to lose?

Aira steeled herself, her trembling hands smoothing down the soft fabric of her dress. Her fingers brushed over her neck, down to her collarbone, trying to summon the courage she needed for what she was about to do.

But first of all she needed a cold shower.

After taking the shower, Aira stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair cascading down her back as the cold air hit her bare skin. The soft fabric of the bathrobe clung to her body, and she held it tightly closed, feeling the weight of her nerves prickling at her skin.

She could almost feel his presence. He was back.

Her gaze shifted immediately to the corner of the room where Arsh sat, his posture relaxed yet commanding. He was doing something on his laptop, pretending not to notice her, but she knew better. He never missed anything when it came to her. The room was dim, the curtains drawn, the soft glow of the lamp being the only source of light.

He was always so composed, always in control. But tonight, something had to change.

Her chest tightened as she gathered her courage, her mind racing with doubt and fear. She knew this could go wrong in so many ways, but she had made a decision. She wasn't going to keep being the victim. She wasn't going to let him be the only one in control anymore.

She walked slowly toward the mirror, her reflection staring back at her, wide-eyed and nervous. Her heart pounded in her chest as she carefully loosened the tie of her bathrobe. In the reflection, she saw Arsh's eyes flicker up for just a brief second before returning to the paper in his hands.

Her pulse quickened as she let the robe slide off her shoulders just a little, revealing the delicate lace of her innerwears beneath. Her skin prickled with both the chill of the room and the tension in the air. She wasn't sure what she expected him to do, but the silence felt deafening.

She stared at herself in the mirror, trying to project confidence she didn't feel, her eyes locking with his through the glass. His gaze flickered again, this time lingering. He was watching her now, though he made no move to acknowledge it.

Aira took a slow, deliberate breath, her fingers brushing lightly over her collarbone, trailing down the curve of her waist. She didn't know if it would work, if she could actually seduce him. But she knew she had an affect.

What happened at the dining table was still fresh in her mind and she knew it wasn't just her reading through the lines.

She heard the faintest sound of paper crinkling as he finally set it aside. His reflection in the mirror was sharp, focused, though he remained seated.

"What do you think you are doing Aira?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge.

Aira swallowed hard, turning just enough to face him, the faintest smile on her lips, masking the terror she felt inside. "I am not doing anything." She playfully batted her lashes at him.

Arsh's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as he stepped toward her, his body now just inches from hers. "Don't," he warned, his voice a low growl. "Don't play games with me, Aira."

But she didn't stop. He was standing so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Her fingers, still shaking, brushed lightly against his chest. She forced herself to meet his gaze, even though every instinct screamed at her to run.

"I am not playing games," she said, her voice steady, though her heart was racing. "I was going to sleep."

Arsh's expression hardened, his eyes flashing with something dangerous. "You are going to sleep like this?" His voice was rough, a warning lingering behind each word.

Her fingers lingered on his chest, her breath quickening as she stared up at him, determined yet terrified. "Unless you want something else?" she whispered.

He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful, pulling her hand away from his chest. "I won't touch you," he said coldly, his gaze piercing through her but not moving down her chest. "I told you that already."

Aira's heart lurched. She wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment that coursed through her veins, but she kept her mask in place. She couldn't back down now. Not when she had already committed to this.

"I know," she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable, yet there was a trace of challenge in her tone. "I know you won't."

Arsh leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin. The space between them vanished, his presence overwhelming her senses. He was too close now, his lips nearly grazing her ear as he spoke, his voice low and menacing. "Not until you beg otherwise."

Aira swallowed, her throat dry, her heart thundering so hard it made her dizzy. The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with unspoken desire and danger. She could barely think, the weight of his words pressing down on her.

"I won't," she breathed, though her voice trembled, betraying the war raging inside her. Her fingers trembled as they reached up to touch the side of his face, lightly tracing the sharp lines of his jaw.

His eyes darkened, his breath uneven for the briefest second, but he didn't move. He stayed exactly where he was, a predator waiting for its prey to fall into the trap. "Then. dress. up. Aira." His voice was dangerous, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface.

Aira turned towards the mirror, looking into his eyes through it, her own reflection betraying her fear, her uncertainty. But she couldn't stop now. Her lips parted, and before she could second-guess herself, she whispered, "You can watch."

Arsh froze, his eyes locking onto hers in the mirror, as if he couldn't believe what she had just said. The tension between them crackled, the intensity of the moment nearly suffocating.

For a second, she thought she had pushed too far. His jaw tightened. She could see the control in his eyes, the dark storm swirling just beneath the surface.

But instead of stepping away, he moved even closer, his chest brushing against her back, his breath warm against her neck. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, burning with a fire she had never seen before.

"Is that what you want?" he whispered, his voice a low, dangerous rasp in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "For me to watch?"

Her heart pounded, fear twisting in a way that left her breathless. She could feel every inch of his body behind her, solid and unyielding, his presence overwhelming her.

But despite her terror, she didn't back down. "Maybe," she whispered back, her voice trembling but defiant. "Do you?"

Arsh stepped back, his eyes sharp, almost predatory, as they scanned her from head to toe. Aira's breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to anticipate his next move. The air between them was charged, thick with the tension she had started but was no longer sure she could control.

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze hardening, unreadable. She thought he might leave - might walk out of the room, dismiss her game as nothing more than a foolish attempt at seduction. But instead, he tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a cold, almost amused smile.

"You want to give me a show?" His voice was low, dangerous, a challenge woven into every word. "Then go ahead, Aira. Do it the right way."

Aira froze, her eyes widening as the full meaning of his words hit her. Her breath faltered, and she felt a surge of panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how she had expected it to go.

"I…" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper as she cruled her hands on her bathrobe as she held it together, her mind racing for a way out of the trap she had unknowingly set for herself. "I didn't mean…"

But Arsh wasn't giving her a way out. He took another step toward her, his body looming over hers, his presence suffocating. His eyes bored into hers with an intensity that made her want to shrink back, but she refused to show weakness. Not now.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice low but forceful, leaving no room for argument. "Or was all of this just another game? A tease?" His lips twisted into a mocking smile. "I thought you wanted to prove something."

Aira swallowed hard, her throat dry, her pulse thudding in her ears. She hadn't meant to take it this far, hadn't imagined he would push her like this. But she could see it in his eyes - this wasn't a request. It was an order. A test of her resolve, of how far she was willing to go to stand her ground in this twisted power struggle between them.

She was caught.

Her fingers trembled as they let go of the bathrobe, her mind screaming at her to stop, to back down, to run. But there was no running now. Not from him. Not from this. The weight of his gaze on her felt like fire, scorching her skin before she had even bared it.

"I am waiting," he said, his voice a quiet, deadly calm that sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes were locked on hers. "Or do you want me to help?"

She gritted her teeth despite the tremor that went down her spine.

With trembling hands, she tugged the bathrobe, the fabric slipping slowly from her shoulders. The cool air hit her skin, sending a shiver through her as she let the robe fall open. Arsh's eyes followed every movement, dark and intense, yet still unreadable. She felt exposed left only on her lace bra and underwear - vulnerable, but there was no turning back now.

His gaze slid down her body, forcing her to shrink back. He wasn't just looking at her body, he was staring at her soul.

"All of it," he murmured, his voice like silk wrapped around steel. "I want to watch Aira."

Aira's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected this. The robe slipping off her shoulders was one thing, but stripping completely? Her mind raced, panic clenching her chest, but she forced herself to remain composed. She couldn't let him see her fear.

With shaking hands, she reached for the lace of her innerwear, hesitating for just a second too long.

Arsh's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "Don't make me ask again, Aira." His tone was cold, menacing, like a predator who had just cornered his prey. "You gave me permission yourself and I don't leave things halfway."

Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling as the panic and humiliation warred inside her. She was scared - terrified, in fact - but his words fueled something else inside her. That defiant flicker that had never fully gone out.

Slowly, deliberately, she reached up and slid the straps off her shoulders, letting the lace slip down her body. The air felt colder against her skin now, her heartbeat roaring in her ears as her body was fully exposed to him. She could barely breathe, her vulnerability hanging in the air between them like a delicate thread about to snap.

For a long moment, there was only silence. The room felt still, as if time itself had paused. Aira didn't dare look up at him, afraid of what she might see in his eyes. She could feel his gaze moving over her, dissecting her with cold precision, but he said nothing.

And then, finally, he moved.

He stepped forward, his fingers grazing her jaw, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but the look in his eyes was anything but. Dark, dangerous, and filled with something she couldn't quite place.

"The next time you want to challenge me," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I won't wait for your permission little wolf." His thumb brushed over her lips, sending a jolt of electricity through her drawing an audible gasp out of her. "You want to play this game? Fine. But don't forget, Aira - when you lose, it's on my terms."

Her heart raced, her mind spinning, trapped in the web of his words, of his presence. She had wanted control, but now, standing here in front of him, exposed and vulnerable, she realized just how little of it she had.

Arsh's hand slid down to her throat, his fingers curling around her neck, firm but not painful. Just enough to remind her of who was in control. His thumb brushed along her jaw, his lips still close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

"But since we are playing games with each other," he whispered, his voice dark and taunting, "let's play your favorite one little wolf." His lips grazed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You have two options, Aira." His voice was low, menacing.

"Either you beg me to fuck you…" His lips hovered over her skin, and her pulse spiked at the vulgarity of his words. "Or I walk out of this room and leave you alone."

Aira's breath hitched, her body betraying her with a rush of heat that flooded her core. It was wrong, all of it - everything he was doing, everything he was saying. But the way his voice wrapped around her, the command in his tone, the intensity of his presence, it was overwhelming. She had never felt this out of control, never felt so completely consumed by someone's power.

Arsh watched her, his eyes gleaming, fully aware of the effect he had on her. He wasn't touching her more than necessary, but the way he looked at her, the way his hand rested possessively around her throat, it was enough to send her mind spiraling.

"Tell me, Aira," he murmured, his lips ghosting over the corner of her mouth. "Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to leave you here, aching and frustrated, with no one to blame but yourself?"

Aira's head spun with his words, her chest tightening as she struggled to find her voice. She could feel her resolve slipping, crumbling under the weight of his presence, the dark temptation in his voice. Her body was betraying her in the worst way, desire warring with the voice in her head telling her this was a dangerous line to cross.

She swallowed, her throat dry, and for a moment she didn't know what to do. She could feel the heat of his body pressing closer, his hand still resting firmly around her neck, the sensation intoxicating.

Giving in sounded so easy, but for what? He is the enemy Aira, he made your life hell. You hate him.

It would mean losing - letting him win this game they were playing. And she couldn't let that happen.

"No," she breathed out, barely able to form the word. Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, despite how his eyes seemed to bore into her. "I want you to leave."

Arsh's eyes narrowed slightly, his lips curling into a wicked smile, as if he found her rejection amusing. His thumb stroked her jaw slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. He was so close, his breath fanning across her face, teasing her with the proximity, with the power he held over her.

"Is that what you really want?" he whispered, his voice deep, seductive, dripping with a dark, taunting edge.

She hated how she was feeling right now. He wasn't even touching her and she felt aroused just because of his eyes raking all over her.

No man has ever affected her like this. She has never been involved with men like this and her enemy turns out to be the first man who gets to see her naked.

And worst of all, she couldn't seem to resist his touch, his gaze, him.

She hated how he seemed to see through her, how he could sense the conflict tearing her apart. Her body betrayed her with every thrum of desire, but her mind screamed at her to hold her ground. She couldn't let him break her, couldn't let him win.

"I am not going to beg you," she forced out, her voice trembling but defiant. "You can leave."

For a moment, Arsh said nothing. His grip around her throat loosened slightly, his fingers tracing the line of her neck in a way that made her shiver despite herself. He was testing her, pushing her, and she knew it. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her crumble.

"Interesting," he said quietly, his voice dark, almost contemplative. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, lingering there as he studied her, as if deciding what to do next. "The next time you want to pull a stunt like this," His voice dropped lower, the intimacy of his words sending a fresh wave of heat through her. "Make sure you aren't dripping wet for the man you don't even want to touch."

His words struck her like a blow, and she clenched her legs pooling with desire, trying to steady herself, trying not to let him see how much he was affecting her.

She hated how easily he was able to unravel her, how easily he could make her doubt her own feelings.

It was pathetic how she wished for him to touch her.

"Leave," she said again, firmer this time, though her body screamed at her otherwise.

Arsh's eyes flashed with something dark, dangerous, and his smile twisted into something cruel. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her hairs one last time.

"As you wish," he murmured, his voice a low, predatory whisper.

And then, just like that, he pulled away. His hand slipped from her throat, leaving her feeling cold and exposed without his touch. He stepped back, his eyes still locked on hers, daring her to change her mind.

But she didn't.

A cruel smile made it's way to his lips amd he gently picked up the bathrobe from the floor and carefully wrapped it around her.

She stood there, trembling, her body taut with the aftermath of the happenings, watching as he turned his back on her. Every step he took toward the door felt like he was intentionally taking his sweet time. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming out in shallow gasps as she fought against the irrational urge to call him back.

Arsh paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder one last time, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Don't worry," he said softly, his voice a cruel taunt. "I don't fuck virgins."

His voice was laced with mockery and with that, he left, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, leaving Aira standing there, alone, her heart racing, her body still trembling from the intensity of the encounter.

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