Brinda's P.O.V

I slowly felt my body return to me-as though my soul had wandered too far and had only just remembered where it belonged. But somewhere deep inside, a part of me still wished my thoughts were the reality that ended it all.

My eyelids fluttered open, the stark white ceiling above unfamiliar and sterile. I wasn't home. That much I knew. Panic crawled into my chest, but my lips moved before my mind caught up-whispering into the empty air, begging silently for freedom I had never known.

With trembling breath, I gathered enough strength to lift my head, only to realize... I was in a hospital.

Confusion turned into fear.

Who brought me here?

Before I could unravel my thoughts, a warm presence entered the room-a young woman with cascading blonde curls and a kindness in her eyes that soothed the tremble in my bones.

"Good morning, Miss Brinda," she said, her voice smooth as velvet.

"I'm Nurse Christy. We're all relieved you're awake. Your blood pressure had us really worried." Her voice brought strange comfort amid the chaos.

She reached for my hand-her smile sincere. For a moment, the warmth of her touch allowed my walls to crumble completely.

"You're going to be okay, Brinda. You just need a bit more rest before we process your discharge papers."

Her deep green eyes met mine, seeing the cracks in my soul. Then came the words that twisted my healing heart.

"You're lucky to have your sister by your side, but she seemed genuinely concerned. Almost too much."

My body stiffened. Memories surged forward-fragments of yesterday clawing their way back into consciousness that was dawning.

"Where... where's Lizzy?" I whispered, trying to sit up, my vision still foggy with remnants of pain.

"She just stepped out to grab something special for you," Nurse Christy replied with a playful smile, her cheeks tinged red.

My heart ached.

"That's so... weird, but I'm grateful. Lizzy's all I have, but somehow a part of me felt like I knew where she had gone"

Tears prickled behind my lids.

"I'll leave you to rest now," Christy whispered, leaving the room.

As the door clicked shut, the illusion shattered.

"How could he do this to me?" I muttered, clutching my chest as tears finally claimed space within me.

"He can't do this... not him... never him!" I screamed, dragging my body off the bed, ignoring my battered state. My legs were foreign, stumbling, but rage carried me through the hospital corridors until I found a cab waiting outside.

"Madam, are you okay?" the driver asked, concern furrowing his brows as he stared through the rearview mirror.

"I'm fine, just take me to Red Lane now," I choked out, wiping my tears with trembling fingers numbed by pain.

- - -

The cab stopped before a mansion that once echoed laughter and dreams across my horizon. Now, it loomed, silent and cold, like a grave.

The scent of fresh-cut grass mocked me.

My heart hoped-foolishly-that Brad would come running out, yelling my name. But reality was merciless over and over.

I stepped in. The door was unlocked.

The moment I entered, moans-loud, shameless-bounced off the walls, stabbing my soul in ways that blinded my eyes.

No. No. Please no...

I climbed the stairs, legs fueled by adrenaline and heartbreak.

"I'm so sure that Brad won't hurt me because he loves me to death," my mind kept echoing, bracing for what came next.

"Brad?" My voice broke. "Please don't let it be what I'm thinking..."

The door flung open-and I saw it. Saw them.

"LIZZYYY! How could you destroy me in this disgusting manner?!"

My voice shattered the air, shutting my world in one, but Lizzy just looked at me-cold, lifeless-nothing but a stranger with scabs.

"Why are you yelling, you pathetic bitch?" Brad's voice came sharp, venomous, as he casually smacked her bare skin, echoing like a blade through my throat.

My knees buckled.

"What... what did I ever do to deserve this, Lizzy... WHAT?"

Without warning, Lizzy lit a cigarette, her lips curling into a smirk. "Your existence - and that was horrible enough, and I'm so glad the game's over"

Brad's hand flew across my face. The blow sent me crashing to the floor.

"You better get the hell out before I let my fiancée treat you the way you deserve, you filthy whore," Lizzy hissed.

"Fiancée?" I choked. "No... this can't..."

But it was. And Brad-once my world-confirmed it with a deceitful smirk.

"She's pregnant with my first child, which means your chapter's over till death."

More blows with unbearable pain as I clutched the shards of a broken vase, not for defense, but just to hold something real but solid.

"Leave my man alone, loser," Lizzy said, her laughter a knife in my chest.

I lay there-bleeding, broken, betrayed, hoping he'd come to his senses.

And yet, Brad wasn't done.

He dragged me like a rag doll, skin scraping against the floor with every inch. I screamed, cracked and wild, but it was as if they'd gone deaf. Or worse... they liked it.

At the threshold, he slammed me onto the rough floor. "I won't say it again. Get the fuck out" and never come back, you piece of broken mess"

"It is so hilarious that you thought I would end up with a whore like you with no control," he said firmly.

The door slammed behind me.

Blood trailed down my nose, mixing with tears and the sting of old scars.

"I could have sworn with my life that Lizzy was my wine, not poison," with more tears pouring down.

How did it come to this?

How did they become the villains of my story with all the abundance of love I showed them?

But as I took the long walk of shame away from the house I once called home... something inside me changed forever.

Something dark.

Something unbreakable.

I turned back, bloodied and bruised, while I whispered to the wind - soft, but certain-

"This isn't how my story ends."

Brinda's P.O.V

As I kept walking on the lonely road, I hugged my arms tighter as the chilly wind pierced through me, every step dragging memories I couldn't outrun - some places I cried, others I screamed."

I reached out for my phone in my black purse while booking a cab, but my head kept screaming, "I need to get the fuck out of here," I said, while banging my hand on my head.

- - - -

I kept glaring at the wooden building, rethinking every decision that led me here while bass vibrated through the floorboards and rattled my ribs - I closed my eyes for a second, letting it stitch something broken inside me back together.

My heels clicked against the bar floor like I was ready to run, but the weight in my chest dragged me back - there was nowhere else to go.

"Hey barman, get me the strongest drink you have - and be quick about it," I said as tears streamed down my face.

I muttered nonsense while disgusted eyes stared at me like I was crazy.

The burn clawed down my throat like fire licking dry wood until I drowned the noise - maybe I'd disappear too.

My lips savored every drop of the alcohol while my hands shook the bottle for one last drop-but it was empty.

I groaned, half-wishing death would finally meet me in this broken state while my hands trembled from the lingering high.

"I need to get my life more fucked, and maybe death could finally say hello," my head kept whining.

My wobbly legs rose, trying to assist my weak body towards the exit until our eyes met at a halt, which my breath caught as his eyes locked with mine - molten steel beneath lashes too perfect for a stranger.

"Gosh, who is that hunky man", I said flirtatiously, burning into each other's souls.

My body moved before I could stop it. I felt crazy-but I loved every second of it.

"Hey, stranger... Wanna take this somewhere private?" I said, licking my lower lip.

"What if he's another disaster waiting to destroy me? Still, I couldn't resist his aura - it was strange." Still, I kept glaring at him, unsure why I couldn't look away.

"Miss, you must really be in the mood", he said with so much boldness with a smirk.

His crystal eyes kept staring at my lips, and I knew the lion was ready to devour with no mercy.

His tender hands found my cheeks, which got me instantly wet for more. "This is what I need right now, and please, someone tell him to shut the fuck up", I kept on whining while observing his built, heated body.

His soft hands found their way to my boobs, squeezing them with all seriousness, allowing my lips to moan softly.

"I can see that you are ready to handle me", He said firmly while his left hand kept caressing my boobs.

"Yes, Daddy, please take me away with you - turn me into your slave," I moaned, the words spilling uncontrollably.

"Where the hell did I get this courage from, and who the hell is in control?"

"Oh, by the way, my name's Jason..." I would love to devour you for the night with your permission, Miss," he spoke while brushing his thumb across my hardening nipples, with his hungry eyes fixed on me.

"Who the hell would say no to this and the best part Is, I get more of this. Hell yes!" my mind kept spiraling.

"Yes, Daddy Jason... take me away," I stammered... pressing my lips together to keep me from screaming.

"Let's head to my room before the night ends", I said, gripping his hand as we dashed out of the shallow bar.

- - - -

As we walked into the magnificent room, he gazed at me with his hands swiftly laying me down on the soft, bouncing bed.

"You have such amazing skin - I want my fingers to leave marks on you." He said playfully while leading his hand down my clit.

I was about to speak, but a jolt of pleasure stole the words from my lips, "Ooh, you are soooo good", as his fingers moved in and out, quickening the pace.

"You are definitely going to be the end of me", I said while he slapped my ass, sending a ripple of heat up my spine.

He kept devouring me with his gaze while my body trembled for a heavy impact.

"Fuck!, I'm going to cum. Please please me harder, I need you", I said, biting my lips while body kept shifting from side to side from his dominance.

I held his face, bringing his lips close to mine, which we joined passionately for more intensity.

I couldn't stop glaring at his perfectly shaped body while his sweat intensified the atmosphere, "Damn, that was so good", I said with tongue tasting my dripping cum from my fingertips.

He forcefully flipped me over, my body arching in anticipation, waiting for the impact of his thick shaft pressed into me, erasing every thought but him.

"Mmm", I spoke with his hands tapping my clit.

"Don't worry, I would take good care of you," and before I could say Easy tiger my body burned up.

Our bodies moved as one, his every thrust a wicked melody echoing in my soul.

"This never leaves the room," he murmured, tracing my spine with a wicked promise. My lips whispered yes, Daddy - but my heart already knew... this secret would write its own forbidden chapter.

Brinda's P.O.V

My eyelids slowly open, revealing the sparkling gloom of a place fit for kings.

"Who knew a stranger like him would be my jolt back to life?" I said, biting my lower lip embraced his chiseled face.

His face seemed to call out to me, while every part of my body screamed his name - Jason. My lips ached for a magical kiss.

"What the heck am I doing here, knowing that our worlds would never fit?" I whispered, a trail of sadness in my eyes.

I slowly peeled off the soft white sheet, careful not to wake him with even the slightest movement.

I allowed my eyes to feast on the beautiful artifacts placed at different corners while grabbing the scattered outfits littered all over.

As I touched the handle of the knob, a sense of regret kept flowing through me while I glanced back at my handsome stranger to be a forgetting memory. "It's just a fucking one-night stand, Brinda. Get over him already," my mind kept pounding, but my heart said something different.

I quickly closed the door while my eyes embraced him for the last time, to a world of despair.

- - - -

My legs dragged me home, weighed down by the hopelessness of not knowing what to do next.

"Please tell me this is a joke. Like, why now? Arhhhh! I fucking hate my life!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, sighting all the debt notices scattered across my door.

"This would definitely be the madness that I have foreseen without a job," while my legs took charge of the letters.

My hands ruffled through my bag, hoping I'd find a call for help to save me. "But who the fuck do I know?," I muttered, my hands moving back and forth.

I kept on scrolling on my phone, hoping for a number, when a particular name caught my attention, which was wrong but my ticket to freedom.

My eyes glared at the name: Sofie. She was the only one who would pull me out of this hell.

Sofie has been my best friend since my parents died. She held me dear to her heart, but after I refused to quit the brothel - despite all her pleading - our bond cracked.

"I hope she picks up," I whispered, my fingers halting as the phone vibrated.

Brinda: "H-ey, Sofie." (My voice sounded broken).

Sofie: "This is definitely a first," she said, her sassy tone echoing in my ears.

Brinda: "Are you alone?"

Sofie: (concerned) "Yeah. What's going on? You sound-"

Brinda: "He slept with her."

(beat)

Sofie: "...Wait. Who?"

Brinda: "Brad, my fiancé."

Sofie: "No. No way."

Brinda (flat): "My sister."

(Silence. A bulb kept flickering.)

Brinda (voice cracking): "I walked in and I saw them. She looked right at me... and didn't even flinch."

Sofie: "Jesus Christ..."

Brinda: "I left everything. My bag. My ring. My whole goddamn life. He fucking dragged me out of his home like a slut."

Sofie: "Okay, where are you? I'll come get you."

Brinda: "No."

Sofie: "What do you mean, no?"

Brinda: "They'll fucking find out everything. I can't run or break from this burden, not while I still owe the Madame."

(She gripped the phone tighter, nails digging into her palm.)

Brinda (barely above a whisper): "I'm going back."

Sofie: "No. You don't owe them a thing."

Brinda: "I do. You know I do. They don't let girls like me just leave."

Sofie: "Come to me. I'll hide you. I'll fight them if I have to."

Brinda (quiet laugh, broken): "I used to think I was free... but I was just on loan."

Sofie (desperate): "Please don't go back there."

Brinda (calm mixed with coldness): "Back then, before Brad, before the Madame's chains tightened - I still had a choice."

(I dropped the call and leaned my head against the soft pillow, allowing my tears to treat my fuck up.)

- - - -

Days blurred into weeks, each one heavier than the last. The idea of returning to the brothel haunted me like a ghost I couldn't shake. I'd sit by the window every morning, hoping the world outside might whisper an answer to my confused, collapsing reality. My fingers pressed against my chest, half-expecting to feel it crack under the weight of everything I refused to say out loud.

And then, there was the nausea.

It started as a dull wave in my stomach, just enough to make me pause. I rubbed my belly absentmindedly, unsure whether it was hunger, stress, or something worse.

"I feel disgusting, even when I don't try." I muttered under my breath, staggering to my feet.

The queasiness surged suddenly, a violent wave racing up my throat. I barely made it to the sink, slapping a hand over my mouth just in time. The floor tilted beneath me as I retched, the cold tile pressing against my knees.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I gasped, gripping the edge of the sink like it could anchor me to some version of normal.

Sweat clung to my skin as another wave hit, and I emptied my stomach into the porcelain basin, my fingers shaking. When it was over, I stood there for a moment, breathless and hollowed out.

I knew I had to get checked out. Whatever was happening inside me wasn't just some passing sickness. I couldn't return to that place-not like this. Not looking like a cracked trailer skidding toward a burning bridge.

The shower hissed to life, steam swirling around me as cold water hammered my skin. It shocked the sickness out of my pores, at least for a little while, numbing the dread that clung to me like second skin.

I stood beneath the spray until my limbs stopped trembling, then stepped out and reached for a towel. I didn't bother with makeup or anything fancy. My fingers brushed over a few worn clothes until they paused on a slick black gown buried beneath a pile.

It wasn't flashy. Just simple, tight in the right places, dark enough to hide whatever sadness clung to me.

I slipped it on.

It fit like truth.

And somehow, it matched the theme of my life.

- - - -

I sat on the cold plastic chair, arms crossed tightly over my chest, while the hospital ward was too bright, too clean-every flickering fluorescent light above me like it knew my world.

I kept my gaze fixed on the scuffed tile floor, counting the cracks between the squares with the smell of antiseptic in the hospital - avoiding the sympathetic glances from the nurse behind the desk.

My stomach churned-not from hunger, but from fear and the tiniest whisper of hope. "God, I can't believe I'm here for a pregnancy test after a stupid night with a bloody man", I muttered, my fingers trembling and wet with tears.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and my head snapped up. Every passing second stretched like elastic. I wished time would snap already and get it over with.

"Miss Brinda?" the nurse called gently, stepping into the waiting room with a file clutched in her hand. Her face wore a careful expression - the kind people use when they're about to deliver bad news.

I stood, though it felt like the floor might give out beneath me. Every inch of my body trembled as I reached for the envelope. My mind was racing, conjuring a thousand outcomes-but deep down, some foolish part of me clung to the hope that everything was fine. That my life, however messy, would somehow remain intact.

The paper crinkled between my fingers as I slowly unfolded it.

Positive.

The word screamed at me in ink, louder than any voice could. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold tile floor, the room spinning into chaos. My vision blurred with tears.

How the fuck did you get pregnant, Brinda? I wanted to scream at myself. After everything you've been through-by a stranger?!

My fingers clawed at my hair as I hunched into myself, the weight of that single night crashing down like an avalanche. The tears came fast and relentless, blinding me.

Then-him.

Jason.

He was there, just beyond my haze of grief and disbelief, his tall frame moving toward me from the end of the corridor. Our eyes locked, and my chest ignited with a blaze of emotions-rage, sorrow, humiliation.

I don't know what came over me, but suddenly I was on my feet, storming toward him, tears streaking my face.

"You... You're the girl from that night, aren't you?" his brows pulled together in confusion.

My body flared with fury.

I slapped him-hard. The sound cracked in the air like thunder.

He staggered slightly, hand going to his cheek, his jaw tightening as he composed himself. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped, adjusting his shirt with maddening calm. "If we weren't in a hospital-"

"Don't," I hissed, voice hoarse and shaking. "Don't you dare act like you have the right to be angry? My life is ruined, and you're part of the reason."

He blinked, stunned into silence.

Then he noticed the paper clenched in my hand.

"What's that?" he asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Why don't you read it?" I snapped, holding it out like a loaded weapon.

He hesitated, then took it. His eyes scanned the page.

"You're... pregnant," he mumbled, looking up at me like he'd just discovered fire.

I said nothing. I didn't have to. The silence filled in the cracks between us.

Then, without warning, his hand wrapped around mine.

"You're coming with me," he said. His voice was steady. Final.

Before I could react, he was pulling me down the hallway, past nurses and patients whose stares burned into my back. I stumbled to keep up, still numb, still unsure whether I should fight or follow.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly - my heart hammering in my chest.

He didn't answer.

His grip tightened.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure if I was being rescued-or dragged into a new kind of hell.