Chapter 1: The Trap is Set
Riyaz lounged in his penthouse, the city skyline glittering like a carpet of diamonds beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and raw ambition, his silk robe barely concealing the hard lines of his body as he sipped his drink. He’d had everything—wealth, power, and women who threw themselves at him. But boredom gnawed at his core until he saw *her*. Rathi. Her Instagram reels were a siren call—long, raven hair cascading over her shoulders, eyes that pierced through the screen, and a smile that promised both danger and delight. He wanted her. And Riyaz always got what he wanted.
The door opened, and Rathi stepped in, her saree clinging to her curves like a lover’s caress, her husband Prabhakaran trailing behind like a nervous shadow. Riyaz’s lips curled into a predatory smirk as his gaze raked over her, already imagining her dripping with sweat beneath him. 'Welcome,' he purred, his voice a velvet blade. 'Prabha, that room down the hall is yours. Your little... *distraction* awaits.'
Prabha’s eyes darted away from Rathi’s confused frown, muttering a quick excuse before scurrying off. Rathi’s brow furrowed as she turned to Riyaz, her posture stiffening. 'I thought this was about a movie opportunity,' she said, her tone sharp, cutting through the haze of his lust. 'What’s going on?'
Riyaz gestured to the plush sofa, his robe slipping to reveal a glimpse of taut muscle. 'Sit. Let’s discuss your future... intimately.' He moved closer, the heat of his body invading her space as his hand brushed her knee, testing her boundaries. Rathi recoiled, her eyes flashing with defiance. 'I don’t understand,' she snapped, her voice low but laced with steel. 'And I don’t appreciate being toyed with.'
His chuckle was dark, dripping with menace as he leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. 'Oh, darling, your husband understands perfectly. He traded you for a taste of something... younger. Right now, he’s probably getting his cock hard over a child while I get to play with you. Fair exchange, don’t you think?' Her face paled, but her jaw clenched, fury sparking in her gaze. 'You’re lying,' she hissed, trying to stand, only for Riyaz to grip her wrist like a vise, shoving her back down. 'Scream if you want, Rathi. No one’s coming. Not even your pathetic husband.'
Her breath hitched, but her eyes burned with resistance. 'You’re a monster,' she spat, her voice trembling not with fear but with rage. 'Touch me again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.'
Riyaz grinned, unfazed, his grip tightening. 'Oh, I like a fight. Makes it sweeter when I feel your pussy wet for me despite your protests. Let’s take this to the room—see how your husband’s enjoying his little toy.' He dragged her down the hall, her heels scraping against the polished floor as she struggled, her curses sharp and biting. 'You’re disgusting! Let me go, you bastard!'
The door to the bedroom loomed ahead, and Riyaz’s blood surged with anticipation. He could already imagine her panting beneath him, her defiance crumbling as he made her his. Whatever happened next, he’d ensure she felt every inch of his hunger—and he’d savor every second of her fight.
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