"To save your son, bleed beautifully."
---
MEHER SINGHANIA
The golden bride. The obedient wife. The naïve mother.
Once adored, now shattered.
I stood barefoot in the center of the grand marble hall. Cold wind from the open balcony kissed my skin, but it wasn't enough to cool the fire in my chest. My saree, once white and delicate, was stained red at the hem from an earlier punishment. The bruises on my arms had turned purple, like twisted bangles of agony.
Tonight, there was no dinner. No celebration.
Just a single cruel game.
Like every night.
Except tonight… it wasn't me they were threatening.
It was Aarav.
My five-year-old son.
Tears stung my eyes as I looked at him, tied to a wooden chair at the far end of the hall, his tiny body shaking. A piece of cloth was stuffed in his mouth to silence his sobs. His birthday crown sat tilted on his forehead, mocking the innocence he still had.
Between me and him was a glittering path—shards of broken glass. Sharp. Jagged. Glinting like diamonds of death under the chandelier light.
A cruel maze.
And I was the rat.
Bleeding for love.
---
RAVIAN SINGHANIA
My husband.
My executioner.
He leaned casually against the grand piano, a wine glass in one hand, devilish ease in his posture.
> "Meher," Ravian said smoothly, swirling the blood-red wine in his glass. "Tonight's challenge is simple. Walk barefoot across the glass to reach your darling son. Ten meters. That's all."
He gestured grandly at the deadly path.
> "If you get to him before this candle burns out," he added, pointing to the short birthday candle flickering beside Aarav, "we'll set him free."
KRAY MANSON
His best friend.
My second nightmare.
Kray sat on the couch, legs spread, a lazy smirk on his lips. His sharp eyes followed my every movement, as if he was measuring my pain.
> "And if she doesn't?" Kray asked, mock curiosity lacing his voice.
"Then she watches him starve," Ravian replied coldly, sipping his drink. "Or worse. Depends on how entertaining her performance is."
---
My throat tightened. I wanted to scream. To run. To rip them both apart with my bare hands.
But I had no strength left.
Only love.
And bleeding feet.
I looked at Aarav. His wide, terrified eyes met mine.
> "M-Mumma…" he cried through the gag. My heart shattered into pieces sharper than the glass beneath me.
> "Please," I begged, turning to Ravian. "He's a child. Don't do this. Don't punish him—"
Ravian, walking closer, raised an eyebrow.
> "Punish him?" he said. "No, darling. This is a celebration. He turns five today. And what better way to celebrate than watching his mother finally earn her motherhood?"
Kray, snorting, added:
> "Besides, if you're too weak to walk, we'll just call another maid. One that doesn't cry so much."
---
I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath.
Then stepped forward.
CRUNCH.
The first shard sliced deep into my heel.
White-hot pain.
My breath hitched.
I kept going.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
Each step felt like walking on knives.
I was.
Blood smeared across the marble.
But I didn't stop.
> "Look at her go," Kray chuckled, clapping slowly. "Aren't you proud, Ravian?"
> "Not yet," Ravian replied. "She still hasn't said the words."
I froze.
> "What words?" I rasped.
Ravian walked closer, his breath warm against my cheek.
> "Say it. Say you love me. Beg for me like you used to. Prove you're still mine."
My knees shook.
> "I hate you," I whispered, voice trembling. "I hate you more than anything in this world."
> "Good," Ravian smiled, stepping back. "Then let's make this your last act of love."
---
The blood ran faster now. Every shard was sharper than the last. My saree dragged behind me, soaking it up like a funeral cloth.
I was five steps away from Aarav.
He cried louder, struggling in the chair.
> "Mummaaa! Please!"
I reached for him.
Three steps left.
My foot slipped—
CRASH!
I collapsed hard, knees landing on glass. Shards buried into my flesh.
Pain.
Blinding.
Roaring.
Unforgiving.
But I got up. Crawling now.
I reached out—
And just as I touched Aarav's hand—
A boot slammed down on mine.
Kray.
He stepped in front of me, towering above with a twisted smile.
> "You didn't make it in time," he said, voice like a knife. "The candle died."
I looked over.
Smoke.
The flame was out.
I was seconds too late.
> "No…" I whimpered.
Ravian, stepping forward, looked almost bored.
> "Game's over, Meher."
> "You promised!" I cried. "You said—"
> "I lied," he cut me off, kneeling down. "Just like I did on our wedding day. You were nothing but a bet, darling. I never loved you. Never even wanted you. You were just too easy to break."
Kray, crouching beside him, grinned.
> "Should we tell her now?"
> "Go ahead," Ravian said.
> "We planned it," Kray said, his face inches from mine. "The bet, the wedding, everything. I helped Ravian win you. We wanted to see how long a golden doll like you would survive in our little glass house."
---
I stared at them both.
My hands trembled.
My blood soaked the floor.
My heart, what was left of it, crumbled.
Then Ravian leaned in. Kissed my forehead.
> "Happy death anniversary, Meher."
And Kray drove the knife into my side.
Cold.
Metallic.
Final.
The last thing I saw was Aarav's face—
his screams muffled,
his hands fighting against the ropes,
his tears falling like rain.
Then, nothing.
---
MEHER SINGHANIA DIED.
But her soul didn't.
---
End of Chapter 1
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