Midnight. The mountain-top mansion was as silent as a grave. Arisa tossed and turned in her bed, the faint sound of crying from earlier still echoing in her mind. Unable to resist the urge, she crept out of bed and tiptoed into the dimly lit corridor.
Her eyes were drawn back to the forbidden door—the one Abir had strictly warned her against. Curiosity is a dangerous friend, and Arisa was no exception. To her surprise, the door wasn't fully locked; perhaps Abir's overconfidence had made him careless.
As she pushed the door open, the smell of dust and old paper hit her. In the slivers of moonlight, she saw the room filled with massive portraits of herself. But in every single one, her eyes were slashed with red paint. It looked like the work of someone who loved her deeply yet hated her with equal passion.
She picked up an old diary from a corner. Every page was filled with Abir's handwriting, repeating a single line: **"Arisa, you are my salvation and my sin."**
A heavy breath behind her made her freeze. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Turning slowly, she saw Abir standing in the doorway. In the darkness, his eyes held a demonic glint. He was holding a silver whip in his hand.
"I told you, Arisa," Abir whispered, his voice calm yet terrifying. "Some doors are better left closed. Today, you betrayed my trust."
The diary slipped from her hands. As she backed away against the wall, Abir stepped closer, looking like a predator about to strike.
"You wanted to see what was in here? This room holds the madness I hide from the world. But now that you've seen it... you must pay the price."
Abir grabbed her hair and pulled her close, muffling her scream with his hand. That night, the dark walls of the palace witnessed a new horror. Abir Khan made it clear: just as he could love, he could also create a living hell.
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