The days passed in a haze of tension and quiet moments that left Maya feeling both cherished and trapped. It was a strange combination—Zayed’s affection was intoxicating, but his control was stifling. And now, with the pregnancy progressing, the pressure on her felt more intense than ever.

Zayed insisted on managing every aspect of her life, from the foods she ate to the amount of rest she got. He was constantly hovering, watching her every move, ensuring that no one could come near her. At times, it felt as though she were living in a gilded cage, beautiful and luxurious but utterly confining.

Maya sat in their private sitting room, a comfortable chair by the window, gazing out at the endless expanse of desert that stretched beyond the palace walls. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the land, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of both awe and isolation.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the sound of the door opening. Zayed entered, his tall, commanding figure filling the doorway. His eyes immediately locked on hers, his gaze piercing, searching. He could always tell when something was off with her, when she was unsettled, even if she hadn’t said a word.

“You’re not eating enough,” he said, his voice low, but the undertone of authority was unmistakable.

Maya sighed, rubbing her temple. “I’m fine, Zayed. It’s just… the heat. It’s been a long day.”

His lips pressed into a tight line, and his jaw tightened in that way that always made her feel small, vulnerable. He walked over to her, kneeling in front of her with a softness that was reserved only for moments like these—when he was trying to control her, when he was trying to protect her. Or perhaps, in his mind, both.

“You’re not fine,” he murmured, his hand brushing against her stomach, where their child grew. “You’re carrying my child, Maya. You must take better care of yourself.”

Maya met his gaze, her heart heavy with a mix of love and frustration. “I know, Zayed. I’m doing my best.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at her with that intense look that made her feel as though he could see right through her. “I’m not asking for your best, Maya. I’m telling you what to do. You will eat more. You will rest more. You will listen to me.”

Her chest tightened, and she felt the weight of his words settle over her like a thick blanket. He wasn’t just concerned about her—he was demanding that she comply. There was no room for negotiation. No room for rebellion.

“I don’t want to be treated like a fragile doll, Zayed,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap. “I want to make my own choices.”

Zayed’s expression darkened, his hand tightening on her wrist, pulling her gaze back to him. “You are carrying my child, Maya. You will make no choices without consulting me. This is not about fragility. This is about responsibility. About keeping you and our child safe.”

His words were firm, yet beneath them, there was something else. Something deeper. A possessiveness that clung to him like a second skin, a possessiveness that ran far beyond his concern for her well-being. It was control, pure and simple.

“You’re mine, Maya,” he continued, his voice low, dangerous. “And everything about you—every part of you—is mine to protect. To control. You may not like it, but it is the way it is.”

Maya’s heart pounded in her chest, and a knot formed in her throat. His control was all-consuming, suffocating at times, but there was no denying the way it made her feel. Wanted. Desired. No one had ever looked at her the way he did, no one had ever cared for her in such a possessive, all-encompassing way.

“I’m not sure I can live like this,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t always be what you want, Zayed.”

Zayed stood up suddenly, his expression unreadable. He stepped away from her, his back to her for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. The air between them thickened, heavy with unspoken tension.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said finally, his voice calm but cutting. “You will be what I need you to be. Because that is what is best for you. For our child.”

Maya’s breath hitched. She had known this about Zayed, known that his love for her was all-consuming, his need for control insatiable. But hearing it spoken so plainly, without the usual tenderness, struck her in a way that left her shaken.

“I don’t want to be controlled,” she said, her voice stronger now, despite the fear gnawing at her insides. “I want to have a voice. A choice.”

Zayed turned slowly, his eyes dark, his expression shifting to something more intense, something colder. “You want a choice, Maya?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying a dangerous edge. “You will never have the same choices that others do. Not while you are mine. And while I am the father of your child, you will understand that.”

Maya stood up, her legs feeling unsteady. She had never felt more torn in her life. Her heart ached for the man in front of her, for the love he gave her, for the way he made her feel. But there was a part of her that wanted to break free, to find herself outside of his suffocating grip.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” she said quietly, taking a step back. “I don’t know if I can always be what you need.”

Zayed’s expression softened, but only for a moment. He stepped toward her, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. His touch was gentle, but his eyes betrayed the storm that raged beneath the surface.

“You will be everything I need, Maya,” he murmured, his voice full of both promise and threat. “You will learn to trust me. You will learn to submit to me. And when you do, you will understand why I do what I do.”

She wanted to fight him. She wanted to scream and run and break free. But then, as his thumb brushed across her lower lip, she couldn’t help but feel the pull of his love, his obsession. And for reasons she couldn’t explain, she found herself leaning into him, allowing him to take control once again.

“I love you, Maya,” Zayed whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead. “And I will never let anyone hurt you. Not while I’m breathing.”

Maya closed her eyes, her body trembling as she let herself surrender, just a little, to him once again. She didn’t know if she could continue living under his control, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him. She loved him—possessive, obsessive love and all.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible, a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

She was his.

And Zayed would never let her forget it.