Dia's POV

I sat on the bed, my fingers running over the soft fabric of the clothes Ekansh had brought me. I wasn’t sure what to think of him anymore. He terrified me, no doubt, but then there were moments like this—moments when he went out of his way to make sure I was okay.

I pulled on the fresh clothes, the soft cotton a comfort against my sore skin. As I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. The dark circles under my eyes and the bruises on my body told a story I wasn’t ready to face.

The sound of footsteps outside the door pulled me from my thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat, but I reminded myself it was probably just Ekansh. I had no reason to fear him, not now—not after everything he’d done to protect me.

When the door opened, it wasn’t Ekansh, but a maid carrying a tray of food. She placed it on the table without saying a word, her eyes avoiding mine, and left as quickly as she came. I stared at the tray, my stomach growling despite the turmoil in my mind.

---

I sat down at the small table, picking at the food. It was delicious, but each bite felt heavy, weighed down by the uncertainty of my situation. Why was I here? What did Ekansh want from me? These questions swirled in my mind, each more unsettling than the last.

A knock at the door startled me again, and this time it was him. He stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer than I expected.

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. “Better,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his sharp eyes scanning me like he was assessing every bruise, every mark. “Good. If there’s anything else you need, tell me.”

I wanted to ask why he cared, why he was doing all this for me, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I just nodded, my hands gripping the edge of the table.

---

As he turned to leave, I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Why are you being so kind to me?”

He froze mid-step, his back still to me. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he turned around, his expression unreadable. “Because you didn’t deserve what happened to you,” he said simply. “And because I protect what’s mine.”

His words sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t know how to respond, so I stayed silent, my mind racing with what he meant by "mine."

He left without another word, closing the door softly behind him. I sat there, staring at the empty space where he’d stood, trying to make sense of everything.

---

The day passed slowly, the weight of the silence pressing down on me. I spent most of my time in the room, unsure if I was allowed to leave. When evening came, the maid returned, this time with dinner and a fresh set of clothes.

I thanked her, though she didn’t respond, and after she left, I changed into the new clothes. They were simple but comfortable, and I found myself appreciating the small kindnesses, even if they felt out of place in a world that had shown me so much cruelty.

As I lay down that night, my thoughts drifted back to Ekansh. His words, his actions—they didn’t make sense to me. He was a man who ruled with fear, yet he had shown me compassion. It was confusing, but a small part of me felt a flicker of gratitude.

For now, I decided to hold onto that. It was the only thing keeping me from breaking completely.

---

The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains. As I lay there, my mind refused to quiet. My thoughts were a storm of confusion and fear, mixed with the smallest glimmers of something I couldn’t name. Ekansh’s words haunted me. I protect what’s mine. What did that even mean?

I turned on my side, staring at the faint outline of the furniture in the dim light. Part of me wanted to believe him—that he genuinely cared, that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me again. But how could I trust someone who had taken me from my family, who was responsible for this nightmare in the first place?

My family. My chest tightened as I thought of them. Were they okay? Were they blaming themselves for not stopping Ekansh? Or worse, were they relieved to have me out of the way? The thought stung, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

I wiped them away quickly, refusing to let myself fall apart again. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. I needed to be strong, even if I didn’t know how. If there was one thing I could hold onto, it was that Ekansh had kept his word so far—he hadn’t let Radha hurt me again. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

Eventually, exhaustion overtook my swirling thoughts, and I drifted into a restless sleep. Dreams came and went, fragmented and confusing. In one, I was back home, safe in my room. In another, I was running, my feet pounding against the ground as Ekansh’s shadow loomed behind me. When I finally woke, it was with a gasp, my heart racing as if I’d just escaped something terrible.