The night had grown deep. A heavy silence hung over the entire mansion. Laboni stood before the mirror in her bedroom, wearing a silk nightdress with a plunging back. Her bare back seemed like a silent witness to her long years of subjugation and agony. However, she had a thin veil draped over her shoulders, preserving her elegance and dignity.
In the next room, Henry was immersed in an alcohol-induced frenzy, shouting and creating a ruckus, but Laboni didn't care tonight. She had secretly pulled out a small backup phone that she had managed to hide with great difficulty.
She was speaking to her long-time trusted friend and colleague, Dr. Aryan—the only person who knew of her living hell and was trying to help her.
Laboni: (Whispering) "Aryan, the time has come. Henry is completely out of control. He doesn't know Rehan is safe. This is my best chance to escape. Have you arranged everything?"
Aryan: (Worriedly, over the phone) "Everything is ready, Laboni. A car will be waiting for you across the border. But taking Sara and the baby will be very difficult. Henry's men are guarding the gates."
Laboni: "I know. But his intoxication tonight is worse than ever. I've given him something that should keep him in a deep sleep for at least six hours. But Aryan... I'm afraid, what if he wakes up halfway through?"
As Laboni spoke, she didn't notice the doorknob turning slowly. The icy night air brushed against her bare back. She wrapped her veil tighter. At that moment, a shadow appeared through the crack of the door. Was it Henry? Or the little maid who wanted to help her?
Laboni quickly hid the phone under her veil. Her heart was drumming against her chest. In the mirror's reflection, she saw someone standing at the door, having overheard her secret conversation.
A cold shiver ran down Laboni's spine. Looking at the mirror, she saw the shadow becoming clearer. The handle opened with a 'click.'
Henry was standing on the other side of the door.
But he didn't look like his usual violent self; he looked even more terrifying. He wasn't wearing his shirt, his eyes were glazed, and he held a half-empty bottle of wine. Leaning against the door, he gave a diabolical smile.
Henry: (In a calm but poisonous voice) "Who were you talking to, Laboni? Aryan? That doctor friend who is still waiting for you?"
Laboni froze. Henry hadn't just appeared; he had been eavesdropping for a long time. She clutched her veil, her hands trembling.
Henry: (Walking slowly into the room) "Did you think I was so drunk I'd forget everything? Did you think that if Rehan escaped the country, you could fly out of this cage too?"
He stood right behind her. His hot breath hit the bare skin of her back. He reached out to brush the veil off her shoulder.
Henry: "Who were you dressing up for in this nightdress? To escape? Or to go to your friend? Laboni, I told you—I haven't just imprisoned your body, I've imprisoned your soul. Wherever you go, my shadow will follow."
Suddenly, Henry lunged and snatched the phone hidden under her veil. He smashed it onto the floor, shattering it into pieces.
Henry: "Tonight, all your hopes will be buried. You wanted to run? Now watch what 'gift' I send to your friend Aryan."
He grabbed Laboni by her hair and shoved her toward the bed. Stumbling, she fell onto the mattress. Henry kicked the door shut and locked it from the inside.
Henry: "Tonight isn't your night to escape, Laboni. Tonight is the night you become mine forever. No Aryan, no Rehan is coming to save you today."
Laboni went completely numb. Her silence was like the stillness before a storm. As Henry pinned her to the bed, her mind raced with a hundred thoughts. Henry leaned over her frantically, pinning both her hands against the bed so she couldn't move.
When Henry's lips met hers in a forced kiss, Laboni didn't resist. Surprised by her sudden surrender, Henry's lust and intoxication clouded his judgment. He thought Laboni had finally given up.
At that moment, Laboni managed to free one hand from his grip. Instead of pushing him away, she gently touched Henry's cheek.
At her soft touch, Henry closed his eyes. For a moment, he felt he had found the old, loving Laboni again. He began to nuzzle against her face.
Henry: (Whispering) "Do you realize, Laboni? How much I love you? Why do you hate me so much?"
Laboni continued to stroke his cheek, but her other hand was slowly reaching under the pillow. As Henry, lost in her touch, lowered his head toward her neck, Laboni whispered into his ear:
Laboni: "Love doesn't happen like this, Henry. What you've done only breeds hatred."
As Henry lost control, melting into her touch, Laboni used her fingers to apply intense pressure to a specific nerve point on his neck. As a doctor, she knew exactly where to press to cause temporary paralysis.
Henry let out a sudden groan. His body went heavy and collapsed on top of her. He didn't even realize what happened. Laboni's 'affection' was a deadly trap to knock him out.
She pushed his heavy body aside and got off the bed. Straightening her nightdress and wrapping her veil, she saw Henry lying unconscious. He wasn't dead—just in a deep stupor for a few hours.
Laboni thought her medical knowledge had defeated Henry, but she couldn't have imagined that Henry was ten steps ahead. Just as she thought she had succeeded, Henry let out a demonic laugh and grabbed both her hands.
Henry glared into Laboni's eyes and growled through gritted teeth:
Henry: "It's not that easy to fool me, Laboni. I knew you'd try to use your medical tricks on me. So, before coming to you, I took an anti-sedative injection. None of your tactics will work, understand?"
Laboni shuddered in terror. Henry was fully conscious, his eyes burning with rage and lust. He pinned her harder against the bed. Finding all escape routes blocked, Laboni began to struggle.
Henry: "You wanted to put me to sleep with your 'affection'? Now let me show you what real affection looks like."
Henry sat up and ripped the buttons off his shirt one by one. His bare chest glistened with sweat. He threw the shirt aside and leaned back over her. With a sudden jerk, he pulled away the thin veil of her silk nightdress.
Henry: "No more drama tonight. Tonight, you are only mine. Even if the whole world stands on one side, no one can save you from me today."
Henry moved his face toward her neck. Laboni fought with all her strength, but against his muscular frame, she was helpless. The dim light of the room flickered, casting shadows of their struggle against the wall. Outside, the night grew darker, but for Laboni, this room had become a bottomless pit. Henry had lost all restraint, and all her strategies had failed.
The room was hot and suffocating. Ignoring Laboni's protests, Henry pinned her hands above her head with his powerful grip. Laboni struggled, but against his madness, she slowly grew weak.
Henry then held her legs firmly and leaned closer. His hot, heavy breath hit her face. In a diabolically calm voice, he whispered:
Henry: "Now you'll see my real game. You slapped me, didn't you? You thought I was beneath you? Tonight, this bed will be your prison."
Taking a long breath, he began to assert his full dominance over her body. Laboni's lifeless form lay pressed against the bed, tears rolling from the corners of her eyes. With every touch, she felt not just physical pain, but a profound insult to her soul. Henry, intoxicated by power and lust, did not let go for a moment, wrapping her in a cruel embrace.
Henry grabbed her chin with one hand, forcing her to look at him. He said arrogantly:
Henry: "Breathe, Laboni... before this night ends, you will realize that even your heart won't dare to beat without my permission. From today, you are my personal property."
Outside, the silence was broken by the chirping of crickets, but inside the room, Laboni's silent screams seemed to bounce off the four walls. Henry was lost in his ultimate taste of dominance.
In the face of Henry's savage assault, as Laboni's body recoiled in shame and pain, a strange physical reaction occurred. Due to the combination of intense tension, rage, and insult, Laboni's fair face and neck suddenly turned bright red.
As Henry loomed over her, he paused, seeing her flushed form. He thought it was a blush of shame or a sign of submission to his dominance. A distorted look of victory appeared in his eyes. He let out a demonic laugh that shattered the silence of the room.
Henry: (With a hideous smile) "See, Laboni? This body of yours cannot lie. You may speak of hatred, but this reddened skin says you are surrendering to me. This is exactly what I wanted!"
Henry touched her reddened cheek with his sweaty hand. His laughter made him even more feral. He felt he hadn't just won her body, but had crushed her pride, turning her into his puppet.
Henry: "I feel like laughing... your pride of being a doctor is rolling in the dust of this bed tonight. You are turning red because you know that from today, only my name will be written on this body."
Laboni remained motionless, but her 'turning red' was not from shame—it was an expression of extreme hatred. She thought to herself, "Laugh, Henry, laugh to your heart's content. This laughter will be the cause of your final destruction."
The nightmare continued all night long, with the flickering lamp in the corner standing witness to this hellish ordeal.
As Henry was intoxicated by the peak of his dominance, a sudden change occurred. He was laughing at Laboni's flushed face and lifeless eyes, but suddenly his laughter stopped.
Henry's body was drenched in sweat. His chest heaved. The combination of heavy wine, the side effects of the anti-sedative injection, and his own intense exertion suddenly exhausted him. He slowly moved away from Laboni.
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. His body felt drained, his head was spinning. He realized he had been obsessed with a 'game' where he wanted to win, but Laboni's icy silence had left him in a strange void. Panting, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked at Laboni out of the corner of his eye. She was still lying in the same position, like a living stone.
Henry: (In a broken voice, muttering) "Did I win, Laboni? Or did I lose everything?"
He realized this wasn't an ordinary fight. It was a mental and physical war. Though he had achieved physical victory in the game he started, he had lost again to Laboni's soul. Her reddened face was now burning not with shame, but with a terrifying fire of revenge.
Henry stumbled to his feet. He couldn't find the courage to look at Laboni again. Drenched in sweat and with trembling legs, he walked toward the living room, seeking a break from his own 'game.'
A graveyard silence descended upon the room. Laboni slowly sat up. No tears fell from her eyes—she simply pulled her disheveled clothes and veil around her. Her mind was now filled with a demonic steadiness.