THE DEVIL AND HIS PRINCESS

CHAPTER 22

Ayaat stood motionless, staring at the floor of their room. While Jahaan locked the main door behind him. The sound of the key turning echoed in the empty house, making her feel more trapped than ever. The weight of her emotions crashed over her like a tidal wave, and she sank onto the floor, burying her face in her hands.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her mind drifted back to Umar. She missed him—missed the way he made her feel safe, the way he cared for her, the way he looked at her as if she was his entire world. But now, all of that felt like a distant dream, a painful illusion that had shattered when he abandoned her at the most crucial moment of her life. How could he leave her? How could he pretend to love her and then disappear when she needed him the most? The contrast between him and Jahaan was unbearable. Umar had given her hope, only to take it away, while Jahaan had never even pretended to be kind. He had claimed her as his, not out of love, but out of possession.

As the hours passed, Ayaat remained in the corner of the room, staring at the wall, cursing her fate. She longed to be with her family, to run into her father’s arms, to escape the suffocating reality of her life. But there was no escape. She was helpless.

The day faded into night, and as the time of Jahaan’s return approached, Ayaat wiped her tear-streaked face and slowly rose to her feet. Crying would not change anything. It would not make Jahaan care, nor would it bring Umar back. It was pointless. She dragged herself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, trying to wash away the traces of her sorrow. Once she felt composed enough, she stepped out and sat on the bed, waiting.

The familiar sound of the main door unlocking sent shivers down her spine. Moments later, Jahaan's voice echoed through the house.

"Princess, I'm home!"

Ayaat remained silent.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and within seconds, Jahaan was at her door. He pushed it open and smiled. "Oh, princess, there you are." But as he looked closer, his smile faded. He noticed the redness of her eyes, the exhaustion on her face.

He stepped forward, his voice softer now. "What’s this, princess? Your eyes are so red. Have you been crying all this time?"

He reached out to touch her cheek, but she swatted his hand away.

Jahaan’s eyes darkened with anger. As he said, "It seems you're still upset about yesterday. Well, let me fix that." Without warning, he shoved her forcefully onto the bed. And started kissing her forcefully and again the same scenario of yesterday repeated today also ayaat was just screaming and crying the whole night out of pain and he was having fun seeing ayaat scream and cry out loud.

The next morning, when Ayaat finally opened her eyes, sunlight was filtering through the curtains. Jahaan had left early for work. A dull pain coursed through her body as she tried to sit up, forcing her to remain still for a few minutes before she could move. Every movement felt like a struggle, but she refused to let it break her.

After freshening up, she made her way downstairs, her stomach growling in protest. She hadn’t eaten anything since the previous day, and hunger gnawed at her. She opened the fridge and was startled by what she saw—ice cream, chocolates, pastries, all her favorite things.

A flicker of confusion crossed her face. How did all this get here?

Then, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, the memories came rushing back. The eerie feeling of being watched, the presence of a strange man in black attire at the shop, the uneasy sense that someone had been following her for weeks.

It was all Jahaan.

He had been keeping track of her every move, monitoring her life like a puppet master pulling the strings.

The realization sent a chill down her spine.

She grabbed a pastry and settled onto the sofa, taking small bites as her mind raced. What did Jahaan really want from her? Did he expect her to be grateful for this twisted act of care? Did he think buying her favorite things would erase the pain he had caused?

Ayaat shook her head. No, she wouldn’t fall into his trap.

After finishing her food, she headed back to her room to arrange her clothes. But the moment she opened the cupboard, her breath hitched.

Inside was a dream wardrobe, filled with dresses of every color and pattern, fabrics so luxurious they looked like they belonged to royalty. Below, a section was dedicated solely to jewelry—necklaces, bangles, earrings, shimmering in the soft light.

Her fingers hesitated over the garments. Everything had been prepared for her. As if Jahaan had planned every detail of her life long before she had even stepped into this house.

Ayaat carefully placed her own clothes in a small corner of the cupboard, unwilling to mix them with the extravagant collection. Then, without another glance at the closet, she turned and left the room.

Downstairs, she turned on the TV, letting the background noise distract her from her thoughts. It was the first moment of peace she had felt in a long time.

But as the clock struck 10 PM, dread crept into her heart.

The last two nights had been terrifying. She didn’t want to relive them.

An idea formed in her mind—if she was asleep before Jahaan arrived, maybe she could avoid him altogether.

She quickly switched off the TV and hurried upstairs, slipping under the covers and squeezing her eyes shut. She focused on slowing her breathing, pretending to be in deep sleep.

Midnight.

The sound of the door opening barely registered in her half-conscious state. She could hear Jahaan’s footsteps as he entered her room, moving quietly.

She forced herself to remain still.

Jahaan stopped beside her bed. For a long time, he just stood there, watching her. Then, he sat down, his fingers hovering inches away from her face.

Ayaat fought the urge to shiver.

Jahaan let out a soft sigh. "My beautiful princess," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Minutes passed. Then an hour.

Ayaat could feel his presence lingering, his gaze never leaving her. But exhaustion won, and sleep finally took her.

At 2 AM, Jahaan finally lay down beside her. His arm rested close but not touching.

And as he listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing, he, too, drifted off to sleep.