"I had fallen in love with a monster." - Ria Wilde

SIDHARTH leaned back on his chair, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was calm, almost too calm, as he spoke. "I want my work to be done by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow isn't possible, Sir. It will take at least a week for us to do," the man on the other end of the line replied hesitantly.

Sidharth's jaw tightened in irritation. He sat up straighter, gripping the phone tightly. "I don't care. I want it done by tomorrow. By hook or by crook. I'm paying you a significant amount of money for this," he reminded him, his tone now carrying an edge of warning.

The man stammered slightly. "I know, Sir. But this is not how it works. It takes time, Sir-"

Sidharth cut him off sharply. "No ifs. No buts. Just fucking do it."

There was silence on the line for a moment before the man finally relented with a defeated sigh. "Okay, I'll try to do it by tomorrow."

"Good." Sidharth ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone onto the bed in frustration. His irritation hadn't dissipated. Instead, it simmered, growing with each passing second.

He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts dark and consuming. "I want that person's ending by tomorrow-the one who destroyed my life."

As his anger peaked, his phone buzzed again, pulling him back to reality. He reached for it reluctantly, his annoyance visible as he saw the name on the screen. Sana.

He swiped to answer. "Hello, Sidharth?"

"Hmm?" he grunted in response, his tone clipped and still heavy with anger from the previous call.

"Are you okay?" Sana asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Sidharth rolled his eyes, barely masking his irritation. "None of your business, Sana. Why did you call me?" His blunt response hit her like a slap, and the silence on the other end told him she was hurt.

But she didn't comment on it. Instead, her voice softened further. "Umm... I called to inform you that I'm on my way to your house," she said, sounding hesitant.

"Okay," he replied flatly, ending the call without another word.

Sana stared at her phone screen, her lips pressing into a pout.

"Heartless monster," she muttered to herself, frustration bubbling inside her.

Meanwhile, Sidharth sighed, running a hand over his face as guilt momentarily crept in. He walked downstairs, heading straight for the kitchen. He opened the fridge, scanning the contents. His thoughts remained tangled, but he pushed them aside as he began pulling out ingredients.

Something healthy, he decided, as if this small gesture could make up for his cold demeanor.

The sound of chopping vegetables filled the kitchen, a stark contrast to the silence that loomed in the rest of the house. Sidharth's movements were precise, almost mechanical, as he worked. Yet, deep down, a small part of him was restless.

Perhaps it wasn't Sana who deserved his anger. Perhaps it was the ghosts of his past.

As Sidharth diced the vegetables, a pang of guilt gnawed at him. He glanced at his phone resting on the counter, replaying his curt words to Sana in his mind. With a heavy sigh, he wiped his hands on a towel and grabbed the device.

Dialing her number, he waited, tapping his fingers against the counter.

Sana answered almost immediately. "Hello?"

"Sana," he began, his voice softer this time. "I... I'm sorry for being rude earlier."

Her brows shot up in surprise. Of all the things she expected, an apology wasn't one of them. "Oh! Um, it's okay," she said, her tone light and forgiving. "I didn't expect you to say sorry."

"Don't get used to it," he muttered, but there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

She giggled, sensing the awkwardness in his tone. "Well, I appreciate it. But why were you so mad in the first place? Something happened?"

His smile vanished, and his tone turned sharp again. "None of your business, Sana. Just come here first."

Before she could respond, he cut the call again.

Sana stared at her phone, blinking in disbelief. "He really has a knack for hanging up on me," she murmured, shaking her head with a smile.

But she wasn't upset. She realized it was probably something personal.

"Sidharth doesn't like sharing his private life. He's always been guarded," she thought.

Looking at her phone, she chuckled. "My not-so-heartless monster," she said aloud, laughing softly.

The thought of his apology warmed her heart. Despite his guarded nature and rough edges, she could sense the care buried deep beneath. Sidharth might not admit it, but he was slowly letting her in, even if he didn't realize it himself. When it's just over a week they're together.

Sidharth stood by the door, waiting for her. His sharp features softened as he noticed her approaching, but he quickly masked it with his usual calm demeanor.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth, almost casual.

"Hi," Sana replied, her tone soft yet uncertain.

His lips twitched into a knowing smile. "How was your weekend?"

"By far, boring," she admitted meekly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Not anymore," he teased, his smile widening just enough to make her cheeks flush.

She looked away, trying to compose herself, but his charm was undeniable. "God! This man."

"Come in," he said, stepping aside to let her in.

The lights were on this time, casting a warm glow across the otherwise cold, modern interiors of his house. She noticed the change immediately and knew why he had done it. Last time, the darkness had unsettled her, and she'd clung to his jacket for comfort. He hadn't said anything then, but his actions now spoke volumes. He cared. Maybe he wouldn't voice it, but he did.

As he guided her up the stairs, she followed quietly, observing him. He seemed... different now. His usual guarded aura was absent, replaced by something lighter, almost relaxed. He was humming softly, a tune she didn't recognize, but the sound of it surprised her.

"You sing?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Sidharth stopped mid-step, turning to glance at her with a raised brow. "What?"

"You were humming," she clarified, a small smile tugging at her lips. "It was... nice. I didn't know you could sing."

He shrugged, looking almost amused. "I don't. It's just a habit."

"Well, you're good at it," she said sincerely, her words making him pause for a moment before continuing up the stairs.

As they ascended, her attention was drawn to the photo frames lining the wall. Each one told a story-or at least it tried to.

There were pictures of him and his parents, from his childhood to his teenage years. His father looked stern and composed, his mother elegant and poised. In some pictures, they were alone, and in others, the three of them stood together, perfectly arranged like a magazine cover.

But something felt off.

Sidharth stood in every photo, his posture perfect, his expression neutral. Not a single smile graced his face. His eyes, even as a child, held no light, no joy. They looked hollow, almost lifeless. It was as if he had been posing for a picture while his mind wandered somewhere far away.

Sana felt a sharp ache in her chest as she stared at the photos. She didn't know why, but seeing him like that hurt her. She wanted to reach into the frames and shake that younger version of him, to ask what had stolen the happiness from his eyes.

"You like staring at walls, or is it just my walls?" Sidharth's playful voice broke her thoughts.

She turned to find him standing at the top of the stairs, his arms crossed as he watched her. His tone was teasing, but his eyes held curiosity.

"I was just looking at the photos," she said softly, walking up to meet him. "You don't smile in any of them."

He shrugged, turning away as if her observation didn't matter. "Pictures are for memories. Smiles don't make them more memorable."

His dismissive tone didn't fool her, but she decided not to push. Instead, she followed him as he led her to the familiar room where their first sessions took place before.

As they entered, she glanced around, noting how meticulously clean the space was. It was almost like he had prepared for her arrival, though she doubted he'd ever admit to it.

"You seem... in a good mood now," she remarked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

He glanced at her, his lips curving slightly. "And you seem more curious than usual."

She rolled her eyes, taking a seat on the couch. "Maybe I'm just trying to figure you out."

"Good luck with that," he said, smirking as he sat across from her.

Sana smiled faintly, her mind still lingering on those photos. She didn't know what had caused the emptiness in his eyes, but a part of her was determined to bring back the light. Even if he wouldn't let her.

"Did you touch yourself after our last session?" Sidharth asked shamelessly, his voice calm yet filled with authority.

Her heart skipped a beat, and her cheeks turned a deep shade of red at his boldness.

"No," she replied softly. "As you asked me not to."

"Good," he said, his tone laced with satisfaction.

"Did you?" she asked softly.

"Did I what?" he replied, confused.

"Touched yourself?" she asked meekly, her voice hesitant, fearing he might get angry and worsen her punishment.

He had already informed her that he would punish her today for hugging him back in college that day. When he mentioned it, he sounded genuinely upset. She knew it wasn't just about the hug-something else was bothering him, and he was mad. She guessed it might be some family issue.

"I d..." He paused, as though stopping himself from saying something he shouldn't. "You can't ask me these questions," he said instead, his voice dismissive.

"Oh, okay," she replied.

"You know you'll get punished right?"

"I.. I do." She nodded.

"Do you know why?" He asked, his voice sharp.

She shuddered at his powerful voice, "Yes. For hugging you."

"Right." He nodded. "If you ever disobey my order, Sana, I will punish you, hard," he warned, his eyes locking with hers.

"Punish as in?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

He got up and walked toward her, his movements slow and deliberate. Grabbing her chin, he tilted her face up to meet his gaze. "You're a very curious girl, baby girl," he said, his voice low and commanding.

"I am, Sir," she admitted, her heart racing as the intensity of his stare made her blush. The way he was looking at her-like a predator ready to devour his prey-sent a shiver down her spine.

"Get in bed. Now." His tone was commanding, catching her off guard.

Sana sat there momentarily confused as he released her chin and walked to close the door of the room. The sound of the lock clicking into place sent a wave of anticipation coursing through her.

She understood now. He was slipping into his dominant role.

Without hesitation, she obeyed his command. Rising from the couch, she walked to the bed and sat on it, her heart pounding like a drum. She waited quietly, her breath shallow, her mind racing with possibilities.

When he turned to face her, his eyes darkened with desire, and the way he moved toward her-taking long, purposeful strides-made her feel like prey being hunted.

"On all fours," he commanded.

Sana quickly got into position, her hands and knees pressing into the soft mattress. She waited, her body tense with anticipation, wondering what he had planned for her this time.

Her heart raced as she felt his presence behind her. She bit her lip, clutching the bedsheet tightly as she felt his hand trail down her back and pause at her waist. A low gasp escaped her lips in anticipation as she felt him pulling her dress up to her waist, exposing her black panties and bare legs to his hungry eyes.

"A black lace one, huh?" he teased, his fingers brushing against the waistband of her panties.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, and she bit her lip harder, suppressing the soft moan that threatened to escape as he pulled the waistband and left it. The elastic hit against her sensitive skin leaving a sharp pain.

"Yes, Sir." An embarrassing moan left her mouth.

"You wore this for me, didn't you, baby girl?" he asked, his fingers running up and down her exposed thighs, teasing her.

"I asked you a question," he said, his tone firm as his hand crept closer to her core.

"Yes, Sir," she moaned softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Should I keep it?" he asked, his hands cupping her cheeks firmly before giving them a deliberate squeeze.

"Yes, Sir," she moaned again, clutching the bedsheet tighter as her body quivered under his touch.

Sidharth took his time removing her panties, deliberately dragging it out, his touch feather-light and teasing. Sana's heart pounded as anticipation coursed through her, though a part of her already guessed what was coming. She raised her knees, allowing him better access, and with a swift tug, he slid the black lace garment down her legs.

Taking the discarded fabric, he brought it up to his nose, inhaling deeply with his eyes closed. Sana's eyes widened as she watched him, and her core clenched involuntarily, her arousal pooling between her legs.

Sidharth opened his eyes, locking them with hers. His gaze was dark and primal. "Damn," he murmured in a husky voice, "you smell so good, baby girl."

Her cheeks flushed, and she felt the pulse between her legs throb almost painfully. She quickly squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to calm herself down, but it was futile.

Sidharth smirked at her reaction. "Someone's getting wet, huh?" he teased, slipping her panties into his pants pocket, never breaking their intense eye contact.

Unable to hold his gaze, Sana lowered her eyes and licked her lips, her attention shifting to the evident bulge in his pants.

"At least I'm not the only one losing control here," she thought, a small spark of satisfaction warming her chest.

He noticed her staring and chuckled lowly. "Like what you see, baby girl?"

She nodded meekly, unable to form words.

Sidharth suddenly grabbed her ass, making her gasp as her eyes fluttered closed. "Do you know what's going to happen to you now?" he asked, his voice dark and commanding, as he parted her legs.

"Yes, Sir," she moaned softly, her breath hitching when his fingers caressed her sensitive skin.

"I'll give you five," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "Count after each spank."

"Okay, Sir," she replied, her voice trembling in both fear and excitement.

The first spank landed on her bare skin with a sharp smack, causing her to cry out softly, "One, Sir."

The next came harder, the force making her body jolt forward. "Two, Sir," she moaned, the mix of pain and pleasure making her head spin.

By the fifth, she was panting heavily, her entire body hot and trembling. "Five, Sir," she moaned the final count, her voice laced with need.

Sidharth gently ran his hand over her reddened skin, his touch soothing and teasing at the same time. She let out a soft, involuntary moan at the contact.

"Look at you," he murmured, his fingers dipping between her folds. "So wet for me already, huh?"

"Yes, Sir," she moaned shamelessly, her voice thick with desire, her answer inflating his ego.

But just as she thought he would give her what she desperately wanted, he pulled his hand away and stood up.

"Please," she whined, her voice desperate.

"Not yet," he replied coolly, turning and walking out of the room.

Her jaw dropped in shock. "What the heck!" she muttered, frustration bubbling within her. "He just left me like this?"

Sana debated whether to stay in her position or sit on the bed. Just as she decided to move, the door opened, and Sidharth walked back in, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Remove your dress," he commanded, locking the door behind him.

Sana's irritation dissolved into compliance. She quickly unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor in a heap, before looking back at him over her shoulder for further instructions.

"Remove your bra and get back into position," he ordered, busying himself with removing his bottoms.

She hesitated for a moment, wanting to argue.

"Shouldn't he remove it himself? Shouldn't he look at me, admire me, touch me?" she thought.

But then she remembered-this wasn't a love relationship. He didn't love her.

The thought stung. "But do I love him?"

The answer lingered in her mind, unspoken but heavy.

She unhooked her bra, letting it slide off her shoulders, and got back on all fours. As she waited for his next move, a sobering realization hit her.

If I fall for this monster, I'll be doomed.

But a nagging voice whispered in her mind: Or maybe I'm already doomed?

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