My Cruel Love
Tears Behind the Smile: Maya's First Night
That same night, with her mind still reeling from the club owner's words, Maya stood before the towering gates of the Shahriyar estate...
Maya stepped out of the local taxi. and stood before the towering iron gate of the Shahriyar estate. This was the house she was meant to enter as a bride. Instead, she was arriving as something else — a woman bought and delivered.
After the wedding, Arman had never brought her here. The ceremony had taken place at her father's modest home. He had uttered the words "I accept" and vanished. Just like that. He went straight back to his upscale flat and left a final warning — if she ever stepped foot in his family home, he'd leave the country and never return.
Arman's mother, unwilling to risk losing her only son, had left Maya at her father's doorstep. Maya had been devastated, but she had held herself together. For her father. He was all she had left in this world.
Now, standing at the entrance of a home that had once symbolized a dream, she called out to the guard. When he asked who she was, she hesitated. What could she say?
After a pause, she finally managed, "Mr. Arman asked me to come. He wants to talk.
The guard made a call, and after a brief exchange with the housemaid, the gate opened. Maya walked in.
The sight before her was surreal — like something from a movie. A royal-style duplex mansion bathed in warm lights, surrounded by a manicured garden and stone pathways leading in different directions. In the center, a marble fountain sparkled under the night sky. The garden trees were strung with fairy lights, lighting up the night like daylight. For a moment, Maya forgot why she was here.
As she neared the main door, the weight of reality returned. Her fingers trembled as she pressed the bell.
Inside, Arman sat on a plush sofa in his bedroom, head tilted back, eyes shut, one hand resting on his forehead. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. After leaving the club, he'd gone to his office but couldn't focus. Maya's voice kept echoing in his mind. Her words. her attitude. the way she said she'd moved on.
He couldn't believe it. The same woman who had returned his money and handed him divorce papers — was now selling herself? Willingly?
He knew she hadn't been with anyone before. The bloodstains on the bed told him everything. And yet, she had lied — claimed she wasn't a virgin. Why? Why would she make herself look cheap in his eyes?
Restless and furious, he'd made a call. One call to the club owner, and he'd bought Maya. For a month.
She should be arriving any minute now. Arman leaned back, annoyed with himself. Why had he done this? Why had he dragged her back into his life? This wasn't about love anymore. Or was it?
He tried to clear his head. He had divorced Maya for one reason: Maisha.
His first and only love. The woman who had vanished without a trace.
Where was she? Was she even alive?
He shook the thought away. No — she had to be alive. He'd find her. One day.
A knock broke his chain of thought.
"Come in," he said.
Ruby, his personal maid, entered. She was in her mid-twenties and took care of everything in the house — cooking, laundry, cleaning. Everything.
"Sir, the girl you were expecting has arrived," she said politely.
Arman didn't need to ask who. He nodded. "Send her to my room. And if I need anything, I'll call.
"Yes, sir.
Ruby left, and moments later, another knock came.
This time, it was Maya.
"Come in," Arman said.
She stepped in slowly. Her eyes immediately found him sitting there, calm and cold.
Arman didn't look at her. "So. you finally made it. Took your sweet time.
Maya gave him a crooked smile. Well, according to my manager, you rented me for a full month, Mr. Arman Shahriyar. I didn't realize my services were that impressive. Because of you, my other clients were disappointed tonight. I had someone else scheduled, actually. Got ready and everything. But when I reached the club, they said I had to come to you. So. here I am.
Every word was a calculated jab.
Arman stood up, clenching his fists, scanning her from head to toe.
"This is what you wore for someone else?" he asked, voice laced with sarcasm.
"She was dressed modestly — in ethnic wear, her hair partially covered with a long scarf.
"I was going to change at the hotel," she said, stammering slightly. "You can't walk around in a sexy outfit on the street.
Arman let out a dry laugh. "So, you're ashamed of the job, but not ashamed to sell yourself? And still have the decency to care about public decency? That's rich.
Maya's heart twisted, but she didn't flinch. "Let's just get this over with, shall we? I'd like to finish what I'm here for and leave.
Arman's eyes darkened. "You're in such a rush? Fine. Make me dinner. And I want it from you — not a maid. And I don't want a maid touching it. I want you to cook it. With your own hands.
Maya blinked, stunned. "I'm sorry — what did you just say?
"You heard me," Arman said, stepping closer. "I said cook.
Maya frowned. "Do I look like your maid? That's not what I was brought here for. You know exactly why I'm here — and it's not to be your personal chef.
Arman leaned in, his voice dangerously soft, brushing past her ear." I've paid for your time. For one month. From now on, you're mine — and mine alone. Your job is to satisfy me. In every way. You'll do exactly as I say. No questions. No attitude. No other men. Got it?
Maya stepped back, chilled to her core. "Yes, Yes, you paid for my time—but not to be your servant. We both know what this deal was supposed to be. The rest? That's not in the deal.
Arman raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you read the contract before signing? It clearly says — for thirty days, you follow all my instructions. Whether it's cooking, cleaning, or anything else — you do it.
Maya's face twisted in confusion. "What contract? I didn't see anything like that.
"Really?" he challenged. "Didn't your boss give you a file before you left the club? Didn't he ask you to sign it?
And just like that — the memory came crashing back.
Before she left the lounge, her manager had stopped her. Handed her a document and said it was just routine paperwork for all employees. Without thinking much, she had signed it. He had also given her a file to deliver to Arman.
She quickly reached into her bag and pulled it out.
There it was. A legal-looking contract — signed by her.
As her eyes scanned the terms, her entire world crumbled.
To be continued.