Maya's world had changed in a way she hadn’t been prepared for. The morning after Zayed had revealed the news of her pregnancy, her thoughts had been clouded with questions, emotions, and a profound sense of vulnerability that she couldn’t ignore. She hadn’t even been given the chance to process what this meant. All she could think about was how everything had shifted between them—their marriage, the control he had over her, and now, the life they were about to bring into the world.

She couldn’t deny the growing pressure in her chest when she thought about it—Zayed’s child growing inside her. It made her feel like she was caught in a tide she couldn’t escape. What did this mean for her? What would it mean for their marriage?

She knew she couldn’t fight it. Zayed was no ordinary man, and his presence in her life had been all-encompassing from the start. Now, with the baby on the way, everything felt even more magnified. Zayed was not just her husband; he was her protector, her master, her controller. And now, the child she carried was a reminder that their bond was far more than anything she had ever imagined.

As the days passed, Maya began to adjust, albeit reluctantly. Zayed’s presence was everywhere—his eyes never leaving her, his hands always a gentle, possessive touch on her body, his voice always in her ear, reminding her of what she was meant to be. His possessiveness was both a curse and a comfort. Maya couldn’t help but surrender to it, unable to fight against the tides of his power.

She felt his control every moment. He insisted on handling everything about her pregnancy—from her doctors' visits to her diet and even her physical activities. Maya found herself rarely making decisions anymore. Zayed made sure to make them for her, as though he knew what was best. The more he controlled, the more dependent she became, and though she fought it, part of her found solace in the fact that she didn’t have to worry about a thing.

But she wasn’t sure if that was freedom or confinement.

Maya sat in front of her vanity, brushing her hair absently as her thoughts swirled. The reflection staring back at her seemed so different now, as if she were no longer the same woman who had walked into Zayed’s life months ago. She was his wife now. She was carrying his child. There was no turning back, no escaping it. But did she want to? Or had she already given herself over to him in ways that were irreversible?

She heard a knock on the door, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Maya,” Zayed’s voice drifted through, cool and authoritative. “Are you ready?”

Maya stood up, smoothing the soft fabric of her dress over her growing belly. She had grown accustomed to the feel of her body changing, but it still took some time to adjust to the weight of it all—both the pregnancy and the responsibility of being Zayed’s wife.

She opened the door to find Zayed standing there, his gaze immediately flicking to her stomach. His eyes softened just a fraction, but there was no mistaking the possessiveness that lingered in his gaze. His eyes were always on her, always studying her, as though he couldn’t quite believe that she was his.

“Are you well?” he asked, stepping closer, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Maya nodded, though there was a hint of unease in her eyes. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Zayed’s expression remained unreadable, but his hand slid down to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low. “Because I don’t like it when you doubt yourself.”

“I’m not doubting myself,” Maya said quickly, even though a part of her felt like she was. She had no room for doubt. She couldn’t afford it, not when Zayed was watching her every move, shaping her world with his will.

Zayed’s eyes softened once more as he leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to hers. His breath was warm against her skin, and the intensity of his touch made her heart race. “You’re carrying my child,” he said softly. “You need to rest. I don’t want you stressing yourself out.”

“I’m not,” Maya said, but the words felt like a lie on her tongue. Every moment with Zayed felt like a test, a push and pull of their emotions and control. She didn’t know how long she could keep up this façade of calmness.

Zayed stepped back slightly, his gaze never leaving her. “Good,” he repeated, his voice firm. “Let’s go. I want to spend the day with you. Away from everyone else.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze, with Zayed keeping a constant, unwavering watch over Maya. The more they spent time together, the more she realized how little room she had to breathe. She was wrapped up in him, in his world, and she found herself craving his approval more and more. His presence in her life had become an addiction—one she couldn’t shake, even if she tried.

As the days turned into weeks, Maya’s pregnancy became more pronounced. The constant attention Zayed showered on her intensified. He controlled her schedule, ensuring she had plenty of rest, taking care of her every need, and keeping her away from any potential stress. There were moments when Maya found herself questioning how much of her was still her own. She hadn’t had a moment of solitude in weeks.

It wasn’t just the physical presence of Zayed that dominated her life now; it was the emotional and psychological grip he had on her. He was always there, always watching, always reminding her that she was his.

Maya had heard whispers from some of the servants—hushed voices in the hallways, talking about how Zayed was even more possessive since the pregnancy had been confirmed. His obsession with her had become even more apparent. He didn’t let anyone near her without his permission, not even his own family. No one could touch her, speak to her, or be in her presence without his express consent.

And still, Maya found herself growing accustomed to the isolation.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be isolated from the world; it was that she had learned to rely on Zayed. His attention, his obsession, his control—they were what made her feel safe now. Even when she knew she should have felt suffocated, she craved him more than ever.

One evening, as she was sitting in their private study, flipping through a book, Zayed appeared in the doorway. His presence filled the room immediately, as it always did.

“I need you to come with me,” he said, his voice smooth, but there was an underlying command in it.

Maya stood up, her heart racing. She knew that tone. It meant he was about to take control again.

Without a word, she followed him down the hallway, his hand wrapped firmly around her wrist. His touch, though gentle, was unyielding.

As they reached a secluded part of the palace, Zayed stopped and turned to her. His eyes were dark, filled with intensity.

“You’ve been distant lately,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You’re still unsure of your place in my world. But I’ll make sure you understand. You are mine, Maya. Completely.”

Maya looked up at him, her pulse quickening. She was no longer sure where the line between fear and desire began and ended. He was controlling, possessive—obsessed—but she had become addicted to it. She wanted to submit, to let go of her doubts and her fears, and simply trust him.

“I understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Zayed stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. His touch was possessive, almost desperate.

“You will learn, Maya. I’ll make sure of that. I’ll never let you go.”