The ropes around Samaira’s wrists dug into her skin, but she barely noticed. Her mind, sharp as ever, was already spinning with ways to buy herself time until Advait arrived. She leaned back in her chair, an air of calm defiance masking the faint tremor in her hands.

The scar-faced kidnapper stood across the room, glaring at her as if waiting for her to break. But Samaira had no intention of giving him that satisfaction.

She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about what happens if I don’t make it out of here.”

The kidnapper raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Planning your afterlife already?”

“Of course,” Samaira replied, her tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather. “If I die here, the first thing I’m going to do is haunt my husband. Every single night. I’ll rattle windows, whisper creepy things in his ear, maybe even rearrange his fancy suits just to mess with him. He deserves it.”

The kidnapper snorted. “You’d waste your afterlife on haunting him?”

Samaira paused, her lips quirking into a thoughtful smile. “You know what? You’re right. Why would I waste my precious ghostly freedom on him? I’ve spent so much effort trying to escape him in life. Haunting him would just be counterproductive.” She shook her head with mock disappointment. “No, I’d rather enjoy the afterlife—maybe catch a good movie about my life.”

The kidnapper frowned, confused. “A movie?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Samaira said, leaning forward as much as her restraints allowed. “Picture it: ‘Married to a Demon: The Samaira Shekhawat Story.’ It would be a blockbuster. Drama, action, suspense—it’s got everything. I’d be the tragic heroine, and Advait, of course, would be the overbearing demon in a designer suit.”

The kidnapper stared at her, baffled. “You’re tied up in a chair, and this is what you’re thinking about?”

Samaira shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a creative thinker.”

He scowled. “You’re insane.”

“Oh, no, no,” she corrected him with a sly smile. “I’m just married to a man who could scare the life out of anyone. And I mean that quite literally. You think I’m calm because I’m brave? No, I’m calm because I know exactly what’s going to happen when Advait gets here.”

The kidnapper’s scowl deepened, but Samaira wasn’t done.

“He’s not just a man,” she continued, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “He’s a demon. But he’s my demon. And if there’s one thing you should know about demons, it’s that they don’t share.”

Her words left the kidnapper visibly uneasy, but Samaira pressed on, her tone turning mock-serious.

“Honestly, I’m terrified right now,” she said, feigning a shudder. “Not because of you, of course—you’re just the warm-up act. I’m terrified of what Advait’s going to look like when he walks through that door. I can’t even imagine his face.” She paused, her eyes widening for dramatic effect. “It’s going to be horrifying. Like, off-the-charts terrifying. Even I’ll probably flinch.”

The kidnapper blinked. “You’re scared of his reaction?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Samaira replied, nodding earnestly. “Once I’m out of here, he won’t let me breathe. He’ll be all over me, demanding answers like, ‘What were you thinking when those kidnappers took you away? Why didn’t you fight harder?’ As if I begged you guys to kidnap me!”

She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “And then the lectures will start. He’ll remind me of every dangerous thing I’ve ever done, like he’s keeping a list just for moments like this. It’s exhausting.”

The kidnapper stared at her, utterly baffled. “You’re... complaining about him?”

“Of course, I am!” Samaira said, throwing her hands up as far as her restraints would allow. “That’s what wives do, isn’t it? Complain about their husbands? But don’t get me wrong—he’s a demon, sure, but he’s my demon. And I love him.”

She paused, her expression softening briefly before her smirk returned. “It’s just that sometimes, being kidnapped feels like a nice little break, you know?”

The man stared at her in disbelief. “You think being kidnapped is freedom?”

Samaira shrugged, her smirk widening. “Compared to life with Advait? Sometimes, yes.”

The kidnapper shook his head, muttering under his breath, “You’re insane.”

Samaira ignored him, her tone turning lighter. “But seriously, thank you. For a few moments, I’ve been free. No constant hovering, no endless questions, no brooding stares. It’s been refreshing. I might even write about this in my diary—assuming I survive, of course.”

Her playful tone didn’t hide the undercurrent of warning in her words. The kidnapper opened his mouth to reply but paused when she leaned forward, her smirk turning into something sharper.

“Enjoy this little victory while it lasts,” she said softly. “Because when Advait shows up... let’s just say, you’ll wish you’d never met me.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as the kidnapper stared at her, unnerved by her confidence. Samaira leaned back in the chair, her wrists still bound but her spirit unbroken.

All she had to do now was wait.