The bathroom door clicked shut, leaving Bhagyashree alone in the ravaged bedroom. The scent of sex and sweat hung thick in the air, a bitter perfume of her supposed defeat. Her face, still sticky with Rishabh’s release, felt like a brand. Naysa’s words echoed, a cruel mantra. Know your place.

But the heat on her skin wasn’t just from shame; it was from a fury that boiled her blood. Her fingers, still curled into the sheets, weren’t just clutching in submission; they were gathering strength. She heard the shower turn on, a muffled, intimate sound from behind the door. Naysa’s low, possessive laugh followed. That was the final spark.