The heavy wooden doors of the sprawling CM residence bedroom clicked shut with terrifying finality. Pihu Sharma stood frozen in the center of the enormous room, her small hands clutching the edge of her heavy red bridal lehenga so tightly her knuckles turned white. The rich silk fabric embroidered with intricate gold zari felt like chains wrapped around her twenty-year-old body. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs. The room smelled of fresh roses and expensive sandalwood incense, but to her it felt suffocating.

She was alone. Completely alone with him.