Author's POV

Dia worked tirelessly through the day, her hands aching and her legs trembling from exhaustion. Radha’s command to “clean the room” had turned into a full-fledged mission to scrub the entire mansion. Every surface gleamed, from the marble floors to the intricately carved wooden furniture.

The grand size of the house only added to her misery. The mansion had multiple bedrooms, long hallways, and sprawling common areas that seemed to stretch endlessly. Her cramps hadn’t completely subsided, and the physical labor was taking a toll on her already weak body.

By the time she finished, the sun was beginning to set. She sat down on the floor in the corner of the kitchen, her head resting against the cool cabinets. Her stomach growled, but she had no energy left to even think about food.

The reprieve didn’t last long. Radha appeared, her sharp heels clicking against the marble floor. She glared at Dia, her arms crossed. “Still sitting around like a useless princess, I see.”

Dia didn’t respond, too drained to argue. But her silence seemed to anger Radha even more. The older woman stepped closer, grabbing Dia by the arm and yanking her to her feet.

---

“I told you to clean the house, not laze around!” Radha snapped, her nails digging into Dia’s skin.

“I did clean,” Dia said weakly, trying to pull her arm away. “The whole house… every room.”

Radha sneered, tightening her grip. “And you think that’s enough? This isn’t some charity. You’re here because Sir allowed it. You should be grateful you even have a roof over your head.”

Dia’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. “I didn’t ask to be here,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Radha released her with a shove, causing Dia to stumble back. “You better learn your place, girl,” she said coldly. “Or I’ll make your life here a living hell.”

---

The rest of the evening was no better. Radha continued to find fault with everything Dia had done, ordering her to redo tasks that were already perfect. When Dia finally made her way back to her room, it was well past midnight. Her body was sore, her spirit crushed.

She collapsed onto the bed, too exhausted to even change out of her clothes. Staring at the ceiling, she wondered how long she could endure this. The mansion, though beautiful, felt like a prison. Radha’s cruelty only deepened her despair.

As she drifted into a restless sleep, Dia couldn’t help but wonder where Ekansh was and whether he even cared about what was happening in his absence. Would he have stopped Radha, or was this all part of his twisted plan?

---

Dia awoke the next morning to the sharp sound of Radha banging on her door. The woman’s voice was loud and grating, and Dia could already sense that the day was going to be another grueling ordeal.

“Get up!” Radha barked. “You’re not here to laze around. Breakfast needs to be prepared, and the dining room needs to be spotless before Sir returns.”

Dia groaned, her muscles protesting as she forced herself out of bed. She had barely slept, her mind haunted by everything that had happened. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face, trying to shake off the fatigue.

In the kitchen, Radha continued her tirade, criticizing Dia’s every move. When Dia accidentally dropped a spoon, Radha’s patience snapped. She grabbed Dia’s arm and yanked her back, her eyes blazing with anger. “Can’t you do anything right? You’re nothing but a burden!”

Dia flinched but didn’t retaliate, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to fight back, to yell and scream, but she knew it would only make things worse. Instead, she focused on finishing her tasks, swallowing her anger and humiliation.

---

By the time Dia had cleaned the dining room and prepared breakfast, her energy was completely drained. She stood in the corner, watching Radha inspect her work with a critical eye.

“Barely acceptable,” Radha muttered, her tone dripping with disdain. She turned to Dia, crossing her arms. “If Sir comes back and finds even one speck of dust, you’ll regret it.”

Dia nodded silently, her fists clenched at her sides. Every word Radha spoke felt like a slap, but Dia refused to let her tears show. She wouldn’t give Radha the satisfaction.

As the day dragged on, Radha found more ways to torment her. She sent Dia to scrub the floors again, then demanded she polish the windows. The relentless work left Dia’s hands raw and her body aching, but she pushed through, her mind filled with a mixture of anger and despair.

When the sun began to set, Dia finally collapsed in a corner of the kitchen, her body trembling with exhaustion. Radha stood over her, a smug smile on her face. “You’re learning your place, little girl,” she said mockingly before walking away.

Dia leaned her head against the wall, her breaths shallow. She felt trapped, powerless, and utterly alone. All she could do was pray that Ekansh would return soon—and hope that, somehow, his presence would put an end to Radha’s cruelty.