"Are you done, TweetyBird?" Abhimanyu's voice sliced through her thoughts, soft but laced with steel. "Yes, the food was… yummy." She licked her lips, childlike. A flicker of guilt gnawed at him—he should have protected her. But that was buried under a darker hunger, a thirst for vengeance that had scorched his soul. He would never forgive himself for letting her suffer while he still breathed. "Good." He slid a paper across the table, his eyes cold. "Read this. Then sign." She blinked, confused. "Why?" "It’s our marriage certificate." He spoke as if discussing the weather. "I’ve already signed it. Your turn." Siya froze. **Marriage?** To a man like him? Her? A broken woman. A whore. Pregnant. The words choked in her throat. She looked up at him, pleading. "I-I can be your maid. Do anything. Just… don’t hurt my baby." Her voice trembled, careful, trying to bargain with the devil himself. But Abhimanyu’s gaze was relentless, unmoved. He had waited sixteen long years for her. And he wasn’t about to let anyone—**least of all her**—change his mind. His tone cut like ice. "You don’t need to lift a finger. You’re my queen. Just like my mother. Just like my grandmother." Her heart hammered in her chest. "But… how… why me?" She stuttered, breaking. "Sign it." "I don’t want to marry you." She stood, defiance shaking her body. The word **marriage** tasted like ash, reminding her of someone she loathed beyond reason. Abhimanyu leaned in, his smile devoid of warmth. "You **will** marry me. Or…" His eyes gleamed with a promise she knew all too well. The room fell silent, thick with the unspoken threat. **Everyone knew** what he was capable of. Her life unraveled before her, every pain, every betrayal flashing in her mind like cruel, unforgiving memories. "Please," she whispered, "I’ll work. Like Laila. Like the others. Just… don’t make me marry you." Her voice was barely a breath, but her will, her fight, was fierce. She would make something of herself for her child. She would not be owned. Abhimanyu’s heart twisted, pride in her resilience surfacing for a brief moment. But the devil inside him was louder. "Leave us," he barked to the room. His right-hand man shot him a warning glare—**don’t make her cry**—but left without a word. As the door locked behind them, Siya’s legs screamed to run. But there was nowhere to go. Abhimanyu’s steps were slow, measured. His voice low, lethal. "Listen to me, TweetyBird. I saved you once, and I will marry you, whether you want it or not. But I’d prefer you didn’t fight." His eyes darkened. "Sign. And you’ll be mine." Her lips parted to protest, but he cut her off. "You can do any work you want. No one will stop you." He dangled the illusion of freedom, but the cage was closing in fast. "Why me?" Her voice broke, her spirit cracking under the weight of his shadow. --- She was shattered. He was ruthless. He destroyed lives. Her soul was already in ruins. A prostitute. Tainted. Forgotten. But when love turns into obsession, madness claws its way in. Is love only about bodies? Or is it a war of souls? Will she ever escape the darkness that devoured her innocence, her dignity? What is love, if not madness? This wasn’t just a Mafia romance. It was the story of **his** twisted love. His **tainted** obsession.