Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

He didn't know why, but Ishaan's words clung to him. That night, Ishaan sat in his room, shirtless, as he scrolled through Instagram. He'd found Madhuri's profile weeks ago, full of saree pics and close-ups.

"Fucking tease," he muttered, brushing himself through his shorts. He opened a burner account, DevilzMask, and typed his first message: "Saw you today, Madhuri. That saree's a sin." and hit send.

Madhuri sat at her vanity, brushing her long, dark hair, the rhythmic strokes soothing her after a long day at the office. 

Her phone buzzed on the table, and she glanced at it, an Instagram notification. She frowned, opening the app. A message from an unknown account DevilzMask. Her breath caught, fingers tightening around the brush as she read the message.

"Who's this idiot? And how did he know my name?" she muttered, her heart racing looking at the profile picture, an evil black mask with a text DEVIL written on it. 

She wanted to block him right away and tell Ramesh, but his snores from the bed reminded her how useless he'd be.

Her thumb hovered over the message, a strange heat curling in her belly. "A sin? My saree?" 

She'd felt the eyes of men, always watching, and pretended it didn't thrill her. But this... this was different. Bold, creepy and wrong.

She typed back, "Who are you? Stop this nonsense."

The reply came fast: "I’m someone who sees you, the real you. Not the fake wife act, but the woman underneath."

Madhuri's cheeks flushed, her reflection in the mirror wide-eyed, lips parted. "Nasty fellow," she hissed, slamming the phone down.

But her nipples slightly hardened under her nightie. She stood, pacing the room. Ramesh hadn't touched her in months, his limp excuses left her cold and this stranger's words slithered under her skin, waking something she'd buried.

The phone buzzed again. Against her better judgment, she looked. "You're too gorgeous to waste on that old man. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

A photo followed, It was her, leaving the office, captured from behind. 

She gasped, dropping the phone like it burned. Someone was watching her. Stalking her. She should be scared. She was scared.

"Oh my God, who is this? Why are they doing this?" she whispered, clutching her chest. 

She deleted the message, blocked the account, and climbed onto bed, willing her body to calm and slowly drifted off to sleep.