The car engine hummed beneath me, a low, steady vibration that seemed to mock the chaos raging inside my body. I sat in the passenger seat, my hands folded primly in my lap, my eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. Every inch of me throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. My pussy was swollen and the lips still puffy from the brutal pounding he had given me at Vikram's house. My asshole burned with a raw, searing pain that made even sitting a torment. Each small bump in the road sent a fresh wave of agony rippling through my battered body.

Ranvijay drove in absolute silence, his jaw clenched tight, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The tension in the car was suffocating, a thick, palpable thing that pressed down on my chest and made it hard to breathe. He hadn't spoken a single word since we left Vikram's house. Not one word. The silence was worse than his shouting, worse than his insults. It was a silence filled with unspoken threats, with promises of more pain to come.