Who?
Who was it?
Who was doing it all behind his back?
He frowned.
Who...
After all the work, he at last got some time to sit and think about everything, carefully and precisely. There was a load of work on his shoulders since past few days and he had to catch up with all the things. With mafia and with the business, both. He couldn't get time in his busy schedule to analyse all the occurings around him.
He had been receiving reports from his people in the intelligence agencies that they have already started the mission of sending him jail. Precisely, a new head has came and he wanted to run the system with what they call-'fairness'
He almost scoffed at the thought. It wasn't new to him. Many came and many were gone. And with their own hands they sold their faith and 'fairness' to him. Knelt infront him, begging on their knees.
He will see how far this new chief will go.
How far
But still the puzzle was not solved. He kept on tapping his fingers against his forehead.
Who kidnapped Moazzam?
Moazzam was the person who was supposed to deliver the details of the money laundering to that model, who was going to carry out this mission. Yet Moazzam got kidnapped. And he was still trying to figure out the motive of the kidnapper.
Was it because they came to know he was fishing information for the money laundering?
But how?
Or was there some other reason?
Moazzam wasn't his special man. Just a minor who'd be assigned tasks of not so much of importance and he hadn't been given a serious mafia task in the recent time.
Then what would they want to do with a minor mafia worker?
And who exactly kidnapped him?
His sixth sense was pointing at the intelligence agencies. Rather 90% he was sure.
And in that case, that would mean they came to know about Moazzam's job in the money laundering and they picked him up so he'd spew out the information.
And there was only one answer to the 'how' running in his mind. A spy. A spy had been installed around him. A person who must be very close to him. Very close.
Indulged in his thoughts, he didn't realize when his eyes fixed on Sheharzaad's sleeping form.
She was snorting. Just like a baby. Her face towards the window and the moonlight directly fell on her sleeping eyes. A sudden urge to see her entered in him and without registering, his feet were already taking him towards her.
His doom
His death
And he sat beside her. Unknowingly, his lips twitched into an unnoticeable smirk and his thumb moved up to trace her brow. She frowned while sleeping and turned her head to the side and continued with her little snorts.
"Careful there," he muttered and settled her head, aware of the brace around her neck.
Suddenly, her eyes got half-opened due to the movements around her. Abruptly, from half-opened they got wide opened upon realizing he was close to her. Her breathing got ragged within seconds as she tried to sit up.
"Calm down," he muttered, instead she got more breathless.
"Calm down, Sheharzaad," he reiterated and she was trying to calm herself down but it panicked her when she couldn't. In anxiety, her eyes began to move up and down stealing a glance of him. She was still breathing as if she just came back from a marathon.
"You need to relax," his thumb was now tracing her slender nose, then her soft cheeks up to her ears and then down to her jawline, all the while his eyes trailed his thumb and her eyes kept on looking at him, uncertainly.
"Relax," He said, after a few moments have elapsed and her breathing had calmed down by now and he retreated his thumb, placing his hand on his thigh.
She looked towards her left and proceeded to add water to the glass when he held her hand, making jolts of electricity travel down her spine and she snatched back her hands with instant and immediate effect.
"Don't touch me!" Before she could control, the words were out of her mouth.
He didn't reply and poured down the water for her, before passing her the glass.
Suspicion.
Suspicion was with what she looked at him. He acted as if he was a gentleman. Like he didn't throw her off the cliff. As if he wasn't the cause of her sitting on this hospital bed now with bones fractured.
Her eyes stared with disdain at the glass he was forwarding towards her. Her chin wobbled and eyes unlatched from the glass to him and before she knew, she had already thrown the glass away on the floor, crashing it into pieces.
"I d-don't need anything from you," Her voice was as if she was at the verge of hiccup.
How much worse could it get?
How much?
A few more bones would break but she won't stop from holding back now.
Looking at the tiled floor, the pieces of glass and water spilled around, he looked back at her. His eyes were still calm. Her actions didn't move him a bit. No anger flashed in his eyes. They were as calm and calculated as before.
Like pearls, tears rolled down her eyes, "Will you n-never let me free?" Her voice a low whisper.
At this an emotion flashed through his eyes and if possible, the dark doors to his blackened soul, darkened. Further.
"I didn't swear on my dead mother for nothing, Sheharzaad," Came his low rumble as he fixed her with a glare.
The message was sunk in, deep in her brain.
The hope her mind was still entertaining was now agitating her. She hated being too positive and too hopeful now. Despite trying, despite being in this situation, she couldn't throw herself into the abyss of darkness, she couldn't let that flash of hope diminish. All the doors were closed but her heart still skipped a beat all at the thought, her whole life won't look like this. All the strings in his palms and her just as a puppet. She needed to kill herself in order to entirely submit to him or she would end up again on a hospital bed just like now.
Soon, her chin was seized firmly between his thumb and forefinger, angling her head up, "Why do I see a flicker of hope in these eyes?"
She felt her heart thumping in her chest, "There's nothing like that," she managed to whisper, so her ulterior motives could be masked. She earnestly hoped, he would believe her.
He acknowledged his statement by a simple nod and left her. She was half-way releasing her struck breath when he moved forward and next, his hand had threaded in her locks at the back of her head so he could hold her head. He'd have gone for the nape of her neck if the neck-brace wasn't there. The hold was just firm, it didn't pain her. Nearing his lips near her ear, he spoke, "I repeat, Sheharzaad. I didn't swear on my dead mother for nothing. Only escape from me is," he let the sentence hanging for her to finish.
"Death," She whispered.
"And I know you don't want to die neither you want me to kill you. Isn't it?"
The scene of her throwing punches at his chest, demanding to kill her flashed in her mind followed by the memory when she was begging him not to throw her off.
"Yes," Now, she croaked out.
He released her hair and straightened up.
She found his eyes on her, "I un-understand you,"
"That's good," Still, his eyes were on her and he wasn't getting up from the chair beside her.
She scrunched her nose at him and looked away.
Moments passed, Sheharzaad could feel an austere gaze on her making goosebumps arise on the skin, under his examination. She stole a glance of him and found his eyes keen and interested, carefully observing her.
Out of nowhere, she found his fingers moving and pinching the bridge of her nose. She scowled rubbing her nose when he left her and glared at him. This was one thing that agitated her, when someone pinched her nose. She always took it personal.
Tracing the annoyance in her eyes, he gave out a chuckle. "What?"
"That's very personal," She almost scolded while rubbing her nose. And he pinched her bridge again making her eyes go wide.
He couldn't say, he just felt like pinching her nose.
He just smiled lightly.
And she thought it was one of the rarest moments of her life.
Watching him smile.
"Sleep, Sheharzaad," he commanded, upon noticing how her eyes were dropping down but she was conscious because he was around her.
"Sleep," he closed her eyes with his palm and she let him. Once again the room was silent. And in that silence, he held her hand, fixing the ring on her hand.
He was infatuated with her.
"I won't let you go anywhere," he muttered, staring blankly at the ring. And the whole night passed with him staring at her with callous eyes. The soulless eyes, sometimes, would let an emotion quiver through the orbs. The emotion that hinted taking a pure possession on her masked by the relentless obsession coursing though his veins. For her. Just her.
Why her?
He didn't know. At that moment.
Yet all he knew was to get her scent carved in his senses.
....
Suffocation
Claustrophobia
And disability.
That were the feelings around which her life had been revolving lately. Just the four walls was all her eyes saw. All day and all night. She wanted to walk but couldn't. She wanted to talk but couldn't. She wanted to laugh, eat what she desired, hell, she wanted to go to the restroom on her own feet without any help. But she couldn't. A nurse would feed her, carry her to the restroom, help her with every basic thing that she used to do without any effort before.
He would come visit her but mostly at nights he would be by her side. He won't say anything, rather would do his work in her presence and sometimes, rather, most of the time she would feel someone's gaze at her. It had Sheharzaad conscious. His mere authoritative gaze, any subtle movement by his side, would have her go on the edge but she won't show it.
She had asked him to give her phone back. And even her phone got her bored now.
Sheharzaad had second thoughts about the plan brewing in her mind. That fall from the building increased the loathsomeness, the resilience within her. Especially the will to run away from him. And equally her fear had increased.
She knew what to do and at the same time she was clueless but she decided to tread on her plan. Tread on carefully.
Hannan had told her, the customer would be there as soon as she would get back to Pakistan. She wanted to get things done quickly. The will to run away from him had increased tenfold now.
She dearly missed her parents these days. Her mind would be shifted back to the old memories of her childhood. When she would get sick, all night her parents would stay awake. All day her mother was by her side. Her mother's warm and worried eyes often flashed in her mind given the condition she was in. Especially her mother's warmth was what she craved for. She had never been too sick as to land in the hospital. Never broken a bone. She couldn't help but just wonder how would her mother react seeing her like this. Her heart would feel empty. In that moment of her life, she wanted to spread open her arms and wished the space could be filled by her mother's body. She would hug her tightly. She would never let her go. She would cry and cry until all her burden was off from her chest. And she would hide behind her to get herself save from Shehryaar.
"Ma'am, the food is turning cold," The nurse said, upon noticing her untouched food.
"Mama," The whisper broke from her lips and she realized she was in the hospital room.
Her reverie broke and as she rubbed her palm over the tear that escaped her eye.
When did she start crying?
Her eyes moved from the window to him, who sat there working on his laptop and then at the nurse.
"Yes?" she asked as she couldn't catch what she said.