Elena never imagined her life could change in a single night. Just hours ago, she was sitting at the dinner table with her family, laughing, unaware that it would be the last time she'd feel normal.
Now, she sat on a bed that wasn't hers, in a mansion that felt more like a prison. The man behind all of this—Zain Blake—wasn't just any man. He was the heir to a feared mafia empire, and he blamed her family for the one thing that had destroyed his world: his mother's death.
Zain hadn't come for justice. He had come for revenge.
And Elena… became his target.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't show rage. But his silence was louder than any scream.
The next morning, a maid entered Elena's room without a word. She placed a simple white dress on the bed and a file on the table. Elena opened the file with trembling hands. It was a marriage certificate.
Her name was already written.
Moments later, Zain walked in. Cold. Distant. Icy.
"What is this?" she asked, heart pounding.
"We're getting married," he said flatly.
She stood her ground. "No. I won't marry you."
But he didn't blink. His voice was calm, cruel.
"If you don't… I'll destroy your family."
In that moment, her strength shattered. She thought of her father. Her brother. Her mother. What choice did she have?
"I'll do it," she whispered. "But I will never forgive you."
The ceremony was silent. No flowers, no smiles, no warmth. Just two signatures. A contract signed with fear.
When it was over, she turned to him and asked quietly, "What now?"
Zain looked at her with empty eyes.
"You're not my wife," he said.
"I married you to punish your family. Don't ever forget that."
That night, he locked her in a separate room.
No food. No warmth. No light.
Days passed, and the walls of the Blake mansion grew colder.
The family treated her like a stain.
Zain's grandfather poured cold water on her when she touched the temple lamp.
His aunt mocked her, called her names, and refused her meals.
But Elena didn't fight back.
She didn't scream. She didn't beg.
She simply endured.
She held onto the last pieces of herself—quietly, painfully.
But even strength has its limits.
And one night… she collapsed.
Her body gave out. Too weak to stand. Too broken to fight.
When a maid found her lying unconscious, she was rushed to the hospital.
The mansion was replaced by white walls and the sound of machines. Nurses moved around her. Beeping monitors filled the silence. And finally, Elena opened her eyes.
She didn't waste time.
She borrowed a stranger's phone and called her brother.
Within hours, he came. She slipped out through a back exit. No one noticed. Not yet.
For the first time in days, she was free.
Later that night, Zain arrived at the hospital.
He walked down the corridor, slow and quiet.
When he reached the room, he stood at the door.
Empty.
The nurse looked up. "She left a few hours ago."
He didn't say a word.
He simply stared at the bed she had once lain in.
His jaw tightened. His fists curled.
She was gone.