chapter 6

Amaira paced the room, her weary and disheveled appearance a reflection of her inner turmoil. Her trembling fingers clutched her phone as she scrolled aimlessly, searching for some news, any news. Fear clung to her like a shadow, and the silence of the room only made it worse.When her phone finally buzzed with a notification, her heart stopped for a moment. She opened the message with shaking hands. Relief washed over her like a wave, and she collapsed onto the bed, her limbs weak with exhaustion. The message confirmed her brother was stable. For the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe again.Tears stung her eyes as she let the tension ease, but they weren’t just tears of relief—they were of guilt, regret, and anger. She thought back to the decisions that had brought her here. She cursed herself for not reading the contract twice, for trusting too easily, and for marrying a man who seemed to take pleasure in her misery. Scar Boss.When he had informed her that she would work as a maid during her stay, Amaira had told herself it wasn’t the worst thing. It was better than losing her dignity to him. Hard work was not new to her; her first job in India had been as a maid, and she had always believed there was no shame in honest labor. But knowing her own husband had reduced her to this role felt like a cruel twist of fate.What hurt the most, though, was being unable to be with her brother during his critical moments. She had left him in the care of the nurses and her best friend, Raya, but the guilt of not being by his side ate away at her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his pale face and wondered if he had needed her.For the next two days, Amaira barely found a moment to rest. From mopping the floors to scrubbing bathrooms, washing clothes, and running errands, the work never stopped. Scar Boss seemed to take delight in her misery. He forbade her from making phone calls during the day, even though he knew about her brother’s condition. The nights weren’t much better, as she worked until midnight before collapsing into the small, uncomfortable bed.Three days laterThat night, Scar Boss was out, and Amaira’s workload was lighter than usual. Finally, she had a moment to herself. She picked up her phone and immediately called Raya.“He’s okay now,” Raya said, her voice warm and reassuring. “The doctor says he’s out of danger.”Amaira’s shoulders sagged with relief. “That’s such a relief. Thank you, Raya. Thank you for everything.”“It’s okay. But what about you? When are you coming back?”Amaira hesitated. “I don’t know. I need more time... to convince him.”“Don’t worry about it,” Raya replied gently. “Take care of yourself, Amaira. We’ll talk later.”When the call ended, Amaira felt as if a massive weight had been lifted off her chest. The ache in her body from days of relentless work seemed to ease a little. She fell asleep quickly, the small bed offering a comfort it hadn’t before.Amaira woke up in the middle of the night, her throat dry and parched. She searched the bedside table for water, but the jug was empty. Sighing, she grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight. The faint beam lit her path as she stepped out of the room, heading toward the kitchen.The kitchen felt cavernous in the darkness. Amaira fumbled around for a glass and filled it with water, but before she could take a sip, a strong hand grabbed her wrist.Startled, she gasped and turned around. Scar Boss stood behind her, his sharp features partially illuminated by the faint glow of the kitchen light. His navy-blue blazer was pristine, and his presence was as imposing as ever.“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.Amaira’s voice faltered. “I... I was just—”“Speak up!”“I... I came for water,” she stammered, clutching the glass tightly.His lips curled into a cruel smirk. “Water? Or were you sneaking around, stealing?”“I wasn’t stealing!” she protested, her voice trembling.“Then why are you wandering around at this hour?” His grip on her wrist tightened, making her wince.“I needed water,” she whispered, trying to pull away. “Please, let me go.”Scar Boss leaned closer, his dark eyes burning into hers. “Let me make something clear. A slave here doesn’t move as they please. You need permission—for everything.”Amaira’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Even to breathe?” she asked softly, her innocence shining through despite her fear.His grip tightened further, making her gasp in pain. “Yes. Even to breathe.”Tears pricked her eyes as she felt herself growing faint from the pain. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it anymore, he released her abruptly.Amaira stumbled back, clutching her wrist. She gasped for air, her vision blurry from the tears. When she looked up, he was gone. The room was eerily silent, as if he had vanished into the shadows.Her wrist throbbed as she poured herself another glass of water. Her mind raced with questions. Why had he been so cruel? And why, for a fleeting moment, had his eyes seemed to hold something other than hatred? Something darker, more haunting.Amaira returned to her room, her thoughts tangled. Sleep didn’t come easily. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the encounter in her mind. She had seen something in his eyes—something unexpected.In those dark, burning eyes, she saw pain. A sorrow buried deep beneath layers of cruelty and power.Scar Boss’s POV“Sir, your final meeting tomorrow is at the King’s Tower,” Vincent, my assistant, said. “Would you like to head back to the mansion or stay at a nearby hotel?”“Drive me to the mansion,” I replied curtly.It was past midnight when I arrived. The house was silent, the staff long asleep. I went to my room, took a quick shower, and picked up a business magazine to read.But no matter how much I tried, sleep evaded me. My mind felt restless, my thoughts chaotic. I decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water.As I entered, I saw her—Amaira. She moved quietly, her small frame silhouetted against the dim light. A strange urge to tease her stirred within me.I approached her silently and grabbed her wrist. Her startled expression and stammering words amused me, but the amusement didn’t last long. My heart twisted as I looked into her wide, innocent eyes.For a moment, I softened. But then I reminded myself who she was. She didn’t deserve my pity or my kindness. She was here to pay for her sins.I tightened my grip, forcing cruelty into my voice. Yet, as I let her go and walked away, I couldn’t ignore the regret simmering beneath my cold exterior.This must never happen again. I cannot let her weaken me. I will hate her. I must hate her. Only her suffering will satisfy my revenge.