Live, Laugh, Love Akshaye Khanna and Danish Pandor 😩🫦 You can call me Lin, I'm mixed (Burmese, Indian (sprinkle of Bengali too) and a whole bunch of other ethnicities)
"Meri ammi ne mujhse kaha ki ajnabiyon ke liye kabhi darwaza mat kholna, kyunki ve khatarnak hote han." You whispered, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips as they meandered through the dark hair on his chest.
"Lekin meri jaan, darwaza khole bina tumhe kaise pata chalega ki ajnabee khatarnak han?" He growled soft against your lips, his hands mapping every curve of your body with breathless familiarity.
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Warnings: this is completely fiction, this is not about real-life Rehman Baloch uff Rehman Daikat, it's about how Akshaye Khanna looks sooo damn hot while playing the role as Rehman Baloch. Actor appreciation post! unprotected sex, kidnapping, slight bdsm, gagging, choking, biting, spanking, deflowering, gunplay (got INSPIRED from Haunting Adeline) and etc 😈..
How was it y'all? I told you guys that I'll post a sneak-peak of Rehman fic request tonight 😈.
I tried my best for Hindi/Urdu dialogues even though @rutvii @laal-pari told me that they can help but I don't wanna burden them 🥹💗. Please tell me if you wanna get remove from the tag or not 💗. Um y'all I feel like the banner is kinda goofy 💀 should I change it?
i didn’t wanna say anything but i can never keep my mouth shut lmfao so here goes anyway. i know that everyone’s busy so am i, yada yada yada but if you don’t want the fandom to die down you HAVE to interact w authors and other creators. it’s not a one way street, and this isn’t even about someone fishing for compliments.
you cannot complain that there’s less content and then fail to interact w that. i get that everyone has presences and i’m not forcing you to read ALL the fics but at-least the ones you like, you can leave a kind word of if you’re shy you can use the anon feature.
i’m just saying cuz we’re losing sm good authors and i hate to see it but i can’t force anyone to do anything so.
you returned back home, after a long tiresome day carrying a thick pile of research study and case files.
exhaustion was written across your face.
your gaze wavered to the red car parked in the foyer. a smile tucking up on your lips atleast your husband was at home.
being a lawyer was not easy like right now, you were helping a woman fight against the years of abuse incurred by her family.
you handled it with absolute grace, landing sharp inferences on your opponent's desk. everyone who had doubted you was proven wrong.
building a career for yourself, the one you had always dreamed of now people sing your praises, refer to you as a self-made woman.
but behind all the glamour was the years of hardwork and at moments you went to the court before dawn and returned back only when the stars met the moon.
life was like a pendulum.
as you stepped inside the bedroom, you saw rehman laying on the bed, a glass of whiskey in his hands as he inspected papers.
"agayi tum, jaan?"
ofcourse, he would catch your faint steps even when he was deeply buried in work.
you threw the bundle of papers on a desk, hurriedly jumping on the bed, beside him. securing your place in the warmth of his arms, you kept your head on his chest while his hands moved to grip your waist in a tight hold.
"ha, aagayi toh hu lekin tumhe pata hai, aaj ka din bahot ganda tha" you confessed.
"kyu kya hua?" he asks, voice dropping a few syllables down.
"arey ye shazia siddiqui wala case haina, unhone aur naye witnesses khade kiye hai unke pass strong evidence hai toh ab bahot stress aaya hai"
he listened to you quietly, this was one thing you loved about rehman that no matter what, he listened carefully then based on the situation, gave a solution or simply the space you needed.
"hmm, samajh sakta hu mey" his hands moved up to detangle your hair, combing his fingers gently through your strands. "lekin mujhe yakeen hai ke har baar ki tarah meri vakeel sahiba iss case ko bhi ache se solve karegi, aur tum tension mat lo mey hu na tumhare saath".
a soft smile graces your lips because at this moment you didn't need a solution, you just needed warm words and rehman gave you exactly the thing you needed.
"filhal ke liye toh" rehman moves, straightening up hos posture. he positioned himself between your thighs, "aap strong, independent woman toh hai lekin meri biwi hai aur mujhe meri biwi ko sukoon dena hai"
rehman's mouth crashed yours, the kiss deepened into a desperation, lips moving onto yours with a passionate starvation. as if he had been yearning the entire day for a taste of you.
his tongue entered inside you, slowly claiming with rhythm that satisfied his pent up need. rehman lowered you on the sheets, his kisses trailed down to your jaw sucking your jawline with an intense desire making your back arch with pleasure.
then he moved to cup your breast through the fabric of your clothes, rehman's large and warm palms fitting perfectly around your round perky tits. his finger spread wide, squeezing the soft flesh with a possesive grip that made you gasp against his neck.
"god you're so perfect" he growled against your throat, "so soft, look how perfectly they fit in my hand, they were made for me to hold them, squeeze them, mark them"
rehman's thumb circled your nipples through the material, already perked , begging for his attention. he began to roll them between his thumbs with a pressure that was both punishing and teasing.
the friction against the material against your senstive tips sent you fereal, hips buckling involuntarily seeking more.
"rehman, please..." you moaned, a music to his ears.
"yes baby, im doing it, giving you the every possible relief" rehman whispers, his fingers unsteady on the trousers with a tug, he zipped them , shoving it down your hips. he completed got rid of them.
he didn't stop there, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties dragging them down effortlessly now, you were left exposed beneath him.
"fuck, you're so wet for me already"
he grabbed your knees forcing them apart. his grip was firm as spread your thighs wide, you felt achingly sensitive as the cool air hit your damp skin but the coolness lasted only for a while.
rehman dived between your legs.
the first contact of his tongue against your swollen clit was like the best part after a long day, rehman began to swirl his tongue around your bud with hunger that had consumed him.
"rehman, oh my god, yes!" you cried out, fingers tangling desparately in his hair pulling him closer.
the friction of his pace was intense, working in long, wet strokes that travelled from your senstive folds up to the very centre of your pleasure. picking up his pace, his tongue flickered faster, tasting you greedily as if he could drink every drop of your arousal.
the sound of his kisses filled your ears, driving you to the edge.
"i-i am close" you gasped , back arching off the sheets sending an electric jolt across your body.
"i know" he speaks, voice muffled against the skin of inner thighs, "give it to me, you deserve it baby"
the moment he whispered those words, the last piece of sanity eas broken you lost all the control, it was an explosion as his strokes on your clit flickered faster and mercilessly. your spine arched upwards.
his name slipped through your lips in a sweet melody, your voice filling out the entire room.
the orgasm hit you, violent and consuming you entirely. your inner muscles began to clamp around his tongue. every never ignited in your body. sending waves of pleasure. your vision blurred into darkness as the climax tore you.
rehman's tongue hovered around your senstive bud, hands gripping your thighs violently he remained there, leaving behind a wet trail of sloppy kisses.
thats true to be said, you were a strong independent woman but at the end of the day all you need is a man putting you first and pleasuring you is his foremost important responsibility.
and it was proven, rehman needed you as much as you needed him.
disclaimer - this piece of fiction is based on akshaye khanna and doesn't try to romanticize the counterparts involving his characters.
note - dearrrr girlies, go for a man who always keeps your pleasure above his, i was craving ts so i wrote it fuck hes so hot i cant
She has begun to pace around the parlour, feeling slightly anxious. Uday was supposed to be here an hour ago, and he is nowhere to be found. And technically, she is his employee, so it is not as if she can simply waltz into any wing of the palace to find him. So, all that is left for her to do is pace.
"Rina, my darling!" Uday announces, walking into the parlour, a laptop in his arms. She spins around, surprised.
"What did you just call me?" she asks dryly. "And you're an hour late."
"Apologies, apologies, I woke up late and got caught up doing some very important research," he chuckles, opening his laptop and placing it on the coffee table before he sits down on the sofa.
"Genuinely, what could be more important than preparing for your first press conference?" she asks, staring at him, her arms crossed.
"Rina, sweetheart, sit down," he smiles, patting the spot next to him. She rolls her eyes discreetly, sitting down next to him.
"So, for someone so eager to fix my image, you certainly have a sordid past, Miss Paravati Chatterjee," he hums, opening what looks to be a PowerPoint presentation. With every click of the space bar, pictures of her from university pop up, her in mini dresses and skirts at house parties and clubs.
"Oh wow," she scoffs, looking at him with an amused expression. "You wasted precious time that could've been used to prep you for the press conference by stalking me, real mature of you, Raja Sahab."
"This is quite a sexy look on you. Why don't you wear this to the press conference?" he asks, going back to a slide which contains a photo of her in a slinky burgundy mini dress.
"Maybe because I am no longer twenty-one?" she asks dryly. "Seriously, the amount of effort you put into this presentation, half of that effort will win you the love of Shamli's people."
"You are forever twenty-one, if you know what I mean," he smirks, staring at her body almost unabashedly, practically undressing her with his eyes.
"I am so unbelievably flattered," she says with a saccharine-sweet smile. "Now, can we start prepping for the press conference?"
"How old are you anyway? I'm guessing late twenties from my research," he continues, entirely ignoring her.
"I'll be twenty-eight this year," she sighs. "Now, can we start?"
"We'll start, we'll start, no need to get your panties in a twist," he chuckles, closing his laptop and leaning back on the sofa.
"My undergarments are perfectly fine and none of your business, thank you very much," she smiles, getting up from the sofa and standing behind the coffee table on the opposite end, creating a barrier between herself and him.
"Oh, I'm sure they are all lacy and beautiful, Rina darling," he smirks, looking her up and down.
She glares at him for just a second before schooling her expression back to neutral. "There will be a lot of questions about your ability to know what is best for Shamli, given how long you have been away. I don't think you should try and sell yourself as a proxy for the late Raja Prithvi Singh, but instead, try to show that your time abroad has given you a broader perspective on how to develop Shamli," she explains.
"Hey, you have the same name as my mother," he grins. "Gauri is another name for the goddess Paravati."
"Yes, I know," she sighs. "Are you even listening to me, Raja Sahab?"
"Why do your friends call you Rina?" he asks, ignoring her yet again, which makes frustration boil inside her.
"That's my nickname, daaknaam if you will; all Bengalis have one; nobody calls you by your good name; it's only for official documents," she explains, clenching her fist. "Now, expect a lot of questions about your various ex-girlfriends and partying in Lucknow whenever you came back to India in the past. I suggest that you tell them that you were young and didn't know better, that your father's passing really put things into perspective and helped you mature. I'll be right there beside you to shield you from such unnecessary questions. Try not to speak too much when your character is questioned."
"Shield me, huh?" he smirks. "Like my cute little guard dog. Actually, you're more of a chihuahua, tiny but vicious, aren't you?"
"Can you be serious for one second?" she asks dryly. "Don't get emotional, don't try to be smart or cocky, don't get angry or irritated. Have a smile on your face and a kind demeanor. Can you cry on command? Might be useful if the late Raja Prithvi Singh comes up."
"My Babuji, you mean?" he asks, a raised eyebrow. "What do you think? I didn't love him or something?"
"Does it really matter what I think?" she asks, gathering her documents and laptop in her arms. "Get dressed, we need to be out the door in half an hour."
"Well, I did love him, even though we never agreed on everything," he says, getting up. "What should I wear, honey? What do you think?"
"Try a nice white kurta; colours do signal emotions, and a white kurta would mean you are mourning," she says, maintaining eye contact, her sharp eyes making him feel the slightest bit of discomfort. "Also, white is the colour of innocence, and a kurta would tell people that you are assimilating into Shamli quite well."
"You are such a vixen, you know," he chuckles.
"Really?" she asks dryly, moving out of the way so he can walk first, but he does not move.
"Aap bahut chalu ho, Miss Chatterjee," he smiles. "Aur waise toh hai hi." Again, slowly rakes his eyes over her body. You're very cunning, Miss Chatterjee. Besides, you've got it too.
"Go get dressed," she says plainly, ignoring him now. He laughs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pyjamas as he walks out of the parlour.
"Raja Sahab, aapko lagta hai ki aap bachelor hone ke naate bhi MP ban sakte hain?" a journalist asks, and Uday smiles, leaning forward on the table, but Paravati is quick, pinching his thigh under the table. Do you think that you will be a good MP despite being a bachelor?
"Aap unke policies aur plans ko lekar sawal kijiye," she smiles, maintaining eye contact with the journalist with the stupid question. "Aur bachelor toh Rahul Gandhi ji bhi hain, usme kya farak padta hai?" Can you keep the questions to his policies and plans? And Rahul Gandhi is a bachelor as well; what difference does it make?
"Rahul Gandhi ji ke paas toh humare Raja Sahab jaisa itihas nahi hai na," another journalist quips. Rahul Gandhi does not have the same history as our Raja Sahab.
"Ji haan," Uday smiles innocently. "Itihaas bhi hai aur anubhav bhi." Innuendo dripping from his lips. Yes, of course, I have both history and experience.
Paravati smiles, not an ounce of discomfort on her face. "Raja Sahab ke kehne ka matlab yeh hai ki unke parivar ki itihas aur unke videsh mein rehne ka anubhav unhe Shamli ke liye sansad ke taur par kaam karne ke liye khaas taur par upyukt banate hai." What Raja Sahab means is that his family's long history in Shamli and his experience living abroad make him especially suited to work as an MP for Shamli.
"Kya aapko lagta hai ki aap Raja Prithvi Singh ke barabar pahauch payenge?" a female journalist asks. Do you think that you'll be able to measure up to your father?
"Dekhiye, humare Babuji jo the, woh koi nahi ban payenga," Uday says, being serious for once. "Lekin hum koshish karenge ki aapko hum mein unki parchayi nazar aaye." Look, there will be no man like my father, but I will try my best to live up to the standard he had set.
And Paravati internally breathes a sigh of relief, but not for long. "Raja Prithvi Singh ke saath aapki toh utni banti nahi thi, toh phir aap laut kyu aayen? Rajkumar Veer Singh sambhal hi rahe the," the journalist asks again. You weren't very close with the late King Prithvi Singh, so why did you come back? Prince Veer Singh, your uncle, was handling everything quite well.
"Humare Babuji ke saath hamesha banti nahi thi, yeh saach hai," Uday says. "Lekin kis bacche ki hamesha bante hain papa se? Aur humare chachaji," he glances at where his uncle is sitting beside him. "Unke baare mein kya kehna, laut aane ke baad, unhone hi hume sikhaiya hai sab kuch. Chachaji ke paas ek pariwar hai, teen bacche hain, apna career hai, ab rajkumar hone ke naate ek ehsan kar rahe hain hum par." It is true that I didn't always get along with my father, but which child always gets along with their father? And my uncle, what to say about him? After coming back, he's the one who showed me the ropes. He has a family, three children, and his own career. Everything he has done so far, it has been a favour and a blessing since he is a prince after all.
On the car ride back to the palace, Uday throws an arm around Paravati's shoulders, grinning.
"That went quite well, don't you think?" Uday asks, and she wonders why Veer Singh had to sit in the front.
"Please refrain from making dirty jokes about your past again, as you did in the beginning today," she says plainly.
"Oh, lighten up, you're so feisty, pinching me and all," he chuckles. "I think I sold the reborn Family Guy quite well."
"Yes, you really picked yourself together in the end. I was shocked," she says dryly, and he squeezes the ball of her shoulder.
"Atta girl! See, we're a great team," he grins.
"Now, get your hands off me," she smiles.
"Do I have to?" he pouts.
"Have you tried growing up? You're almost thirty." She grabs his arm, taking it off her. Surprisingly strong, he thinks, an unbelievable grip for a woman of her size.
"Why? Do you offer babysitting services too?" he smirks. She does not respond, staring out of the window. "Oof, tough crowd," he chuckles.
That night, Uday looks out of his window to see a small figure running around the large estate on the footpath, and upon closer inspection, he realises it is Paravati. Clad in grey leggings and a white t-shirt, she is running laps around the palace like a greyhound. Any wish he had to sleep leaves him as he stares at her.
About twenty minutes go by, but he does not realise it at all, only realising time has passed when she stops in front of the pool, stretching her limbs before she gets down on her hands and knees, doing push-ups. Proper ones, with incredible form. Well, there is the answer to her unreasonable strength. A series of bodyweight exercises follows. She is sweating through her clothes; he can see the outline of the pink sports bra she is wearing underneath the thin white shirt. He gulps, unable to take his eyes off her. He only closes the curtains when she goes back into the palace.
A/N: I don't wanna sound bratty lekin pls engage, this thing takes a lot of work and the engagement motivates me, I don't wanna feel like I'm screaming into the void :(( thank you to all my consistent readers btw I love you all so so so much your comments make my day
Lmk if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist
SIKE WHO SAID THAT!? Basically I'll drop the Rehman fic request tonight, not all but just sneak-peak. It's going to be one-shot alright? And um it kinda took me a week because I have 4 days of IELTS class every week (it's at morning so I'm free all day) and 3 days of pilates class (yes, because I need to look hot for Akshaye Khanna, jk). I also need to improve my writing structure because I will be focusing on both narrative and descriptive writing. My EFL teacher once told me brainstorming can give you many ideas, and with those you can also decide on how to grasp the reader's attention. It's also important to make the readers feel like they are a part of the story when reading it. I, myself read lots of erotic novels like Fifty shades of grey, Haunting Adeline and much more so i'll be taking references from them too. But don't worry, I ain't stressed out. Don't feel shy too; y'all can correct me and send me feedback. And I also want to announce that I will be writing for other dhurandhar characters like Major Iqbal, Uzair Baloch, and Hamza. I really hope my writings can bring everyone joy and satisfaction. Tell me if you wanna get tagged or not because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable 🥹💗
This is completely based on Danish's fantastic portrayal of Uzair and is completely fictional. Here, they are businessmen turned politicians, and it's an AU. No spy, no gangster.
Constructive criticism appreciated. This is not beta read, so if you guys find some typos/ errors, please feel free to correct me.
Also special thanks to @rutvii for suggesting me the idea
Warnings: fluff, crushes, she fell first- he fell harder, teasing, chaotic reader/oc, idiots in love, daydreaming, angst, misunderstandings, arranged marriage proposal, sexual tension, kissing and dry humping, confessions, bhondu Uzair, bhondu reader, confessions
Uzair x reader/oc
Happy reading....
This is a long one-shot, almost 6K words.. sorryyy
“Uzair aap ye kya kar rahe hain,” she said shyly.
Uzair held her face in his hands. He looked ethereal in the white kurta, the light glowing behind him. There were huge sunflowers all around them.
“Tumse pyaar”, he replied cheekily as he smiled at her.
Her heart was bursting out in love. Her while dupatta fluttered as she moved a little away with a “Hayeeeee”.
Uzair bent down to whisper in her ear, but it was a strange sound; his masculine voice had suddenly changed into an angry feminine one. She was confused.
“Uth ja sehzadi. Aur kitne der ghore bechke soyegi?” She jumped awake and opened her eyes to find her ammi sitting near her bed.
“Ammi kitna acha khwaab dekh rahi thi.” She turned and planted her face on her pillow. What was this behaviour? Her family did not even let her dream about her crush in peace.
“Tu aur tere khwaab. Shaadi ki umar hoagi aur abhi bhi bachi-jaise khwaabo ke duniye mein. Jaldi uthke taiyaar ho ja, tere abbu bula rahe hain tujhe, college nahi jana kya?” her mother urged her to wake up.
She reluctantly sat up in bed, her face sullen. What had she demanded? Just a kiss from her crush in her dream. No, her mother did not even let her have that. She started daydreaming again. How Uzair looked like a swan in her dream, wearing a white kurta. Why did he wear those dark colours, not that he looked any less handsome. He looked so hot in those dark colours, but he would look like an angel in white. He would wear a white bandgala and walk towards her, then hold her hand and pull her into his arms. “Meri janeman tumse main bohot Mohabbat karta hu”, Uzair would say. “Main bhi”, she would reply, and then they would kiss. Oh, how good would his lips feel on hers and that beard- oh, she would surely get beard burns; it would feel so good.
“Ye phir se sapna dekhne lagi kya?”
“Ammi yaar.” She stood up from the bed, making a face as she moved to the bathroom to freshen up.
She paced down the stairs in her pretty pink chikankari suit; she was going to be late for college again. Ammi would surely kill her. She ran to the kitchen, looking for something to eat.
“Ammi, breakfast kaha hain? Bhuk lagi hain mujhe. Abhi Rabiya ajayegi college nikalna hain.”
“Table pe diya hain. Late hota hai to jaldo uthti kyun nahi?” Her mother’s voice came from the dining room.
She ran to the room, her tote bag hanging from her shoulder, and went to the table. Not looking anywhere and started stuffing her face with the paratha her mother had placed on a plate.
“Aree baith ke khalo, sehzadi. Ya Allah, kya karu is ladki ka.” Her father’s voice, laced with love, came from the centre of the table.
She did not even look and answered, “Aree abbu time kam hain.”
“Kaisi ho?” A voice came from beside her.
She looked; her face was still full with the paratha she had stuffed in her mouth. It was Uzair, the Uzair Baloch, her crush, the man whose dream had made her late. He was sitting there, at the dining table, just beside the place she stood and stuffed herself with the paratha. She swallowed a bite and sat down, looking at him with an awkward smile. She had embarrassed herself; she did not know she always ended up in the most embarrassing and awkward position in front of Uzair. She could never say anything sweet or intelligent, always blabbering stuff she had no idea about. It was like her brain refused to function in front of him. It was not her fault, though; she could challenge anyone to look at those chocolate eyes and form a coherent statement. Last time she had slipped and fallen on a pothole on the side of the road looking at him. Uzair and Rabiya had to help her out, and this time she was stuffing her face like a chipmunk. Why could she not be as graceful as those women in the serials, or even as Ulfat Bhabhi? She was wearing such a beautiful suit; why could she not have some Nazakat?
“Achi hu. Aap kaise ho?” she finally answered, trying to recover from the embarrassment, finally sitting down at the table with a shy smile.
“Main bhi acha hu. Kya padhai kar rahi ho ab?” Uzair answered smoothly.
Oh, that voice. She could just keep hearing it. He was wearing blue; oh, it made his skin glow.
“Woh mera final year chal raha hai Masters ka. English me.” She answered.
She instantly turned red. His praise did something to her, something she was unsure to accept. Her heart started beating faster, her throat dried up, and well, let's not say what more.
“Hain Uzair miyan, meri beti hain hi ekdam akalmand.” He father was always so very proud of her. She was the apple of his eye, his sehzadi.
She smiled hearing this, but it was time she had to leave. “Ji abbu main ati hu, college ka time ho gaya hai.”
“Thori aur der baithogi nahi?” Uzair asked. Oh, for him she would sit for her lifetime, but well, that was not the question. She just nodded her head in a no and left, not trusting her voice to answer.
“Uski baat chore Uzair miyan, uska pair tikhta nahi ek jagah. Aap khaiye, itne dino baad aye.” She heard her ammi say as she moved out of the room.
She was a dumb idiot and all the things Rabiya had called her. She could have had a long chat with Uzair, but no, her brain had to fumble. She herself had lost all these years; only if she was sharp enough in these matters, she would have already become his bachhon ki ammi, but the way she was going, it seemed she would have to become his bachon ki khala. She did not want to think about the second possibility.
She had a crush on Uzair since she was 16; he was 22 and did not even look at her beyond asking her which class she studied in. She would look at him, hiding, while he would talk to her father about business. Her father was a businessman in Lyari and had helped Rehman Bhai when he was not the King of Lyari, just a young boy trying to survive; thus, her father was highly respected by the Baloch brothers. Rehman bhai treated her like a sister, so did Ulfat Bhabhi. It was during her teenage years that she suddenly realised one day she had a huge crush on the younger Baloch brother, and this had continued for years now. She was twenty-two, and Uzair was 28, and till this day she was unable to say anything about her feelings. Even Uzair treated her no differently.
“Phirse usko chup chup ke dekh rahi thi?” Rabiya asked as she saw her sneakily looking at Uzair Baloch from the kulfi shop.
He was leaning on his jeep, smoking a cigarette. Rabiya knew she was probably going to the market in the hot afternoon because Uzair would be there. Only he had the power to make her move in the heat.
“Ja na tu Rabiya. Main kyu chup ke dekhungi main to unke pehchan wali hu na.” She said, moving her aside.
“Bari ai pehchan wali, uske samne to tera mu nahi khulta”, Rabiya taunted her best friend.
She was done seeing her crush on him for the last 6 years. What irritated her more was that her muphat, bak-bak karne wali best friend, could not even have a full-fledged conversation with Uzair without blushing. And after that conversation, she had to hear about it for months. Last time when he passed her a bowl of rasmalai, she had to hear about it for about 3 weeks.
“Maine tera katal kar dena hai”, she commented, giving Rabiya a pointed look.
“Jaa jaa, bari ai katal karne wali.”
“Aree tum yahan?” Unknown to them, Uzair had come to talk to them, spotting her near the shop.
“Woh main kulfi khane ai thi.” She replied, all her ‘dhamki wala’ attitude melting, making Rabiya cringe a little.
“Acha”, Uzair replied, looking at her. She did look quite pretty in her butter yellow kurti.
“Aap yahan?” she asked him.
“Woh Bhabhi ne kuch kaam se bheja tha?” Uzair answered, scratching his neck.
“Achaa”
The conversation made Rabiya a little irritated, angry, and cringey. These overgrown adults knew each other, but why were they talking like that? Her best friend was clueless in this matter; at least Uzair bhai could speak better.
“Aapko ghar chor du?” Uzair suddenly asked, making Rabiya finally happy; at least one sensible question from the man.
“Hein?” She suddenly let out. This made Rabiya want to smack her best friend across her head.
“Hain, hain Uzair Bhai please chordein. Iske chakkar mein reh gai to mereko paidal leke jayegi,” Rabiya quickly said, not trusting her best friend one bit in front of her crush.
“Tujhe to main badme dekhti hu.” She responded.
Uzair smiled at the two girls, guiding them to the jeep. Rabiya took the backseat while she sat in the passenger seat beside Uzair.
“Abhi iske baad apka kya plan hai?” Uzair asked.
“Iske baad to ammi ne shayad mujhse thora sa khana banwana hai, aur woh khana khake maine sojana hain thori der”, she answered, already feeling tired thinking of cooking.
Rabiya really wanted to throw her best friend out of the jeep hearing this answer. This way she would get her crush?
“Nahi, matlab iske baad, future mein.”
“Oh. Abhi master’s karke mujhe toh author banna tha, shayad publishing mein kaam kar dungi. Agar ammi tabkar meri shaadi na karvade.” She answered.
“Woh to shaadi ke baad bhi tum kar sakti ho,” Uzair answered, looking at her. Was it tension Rabiya saw in his eyes? Wow, that means her best friend has a chance.
“Hain, per shohar bhi acha ho.” Okay, her best friend was still dumb.
“Tume koi pasand hain?”
“Mujhe? Who mera ghar agaya. Main chalti hu. Khuda Hafis” She almost ran out of the jeep.
Uzair looked a little confused.
Rabiya felt sorry for him. “Uzair bhai, thank you. Woh thori si pagal hain, par dil ki achhi hain.”
Uzair laughed.
“Tu usse khul ke baat kyu nahi karti?” Rabiya hit her with her bag as soon as they reached her room.
“Are main kya bolu, unki aakhein dekhke meri bolti bandh hojati hain. Unki height dekhi main, mujhe to man karta hain mai ped ki tarha char jau”, she said dreamily.
“Kisidin na uski shaadi hojayegi aur tu bas uspe chadne ka plan banati rehna”
“Tu negative baatien kyu karti hain yaar”
“To kya karu? Tu bolegi ya main bolu.”
“Boldungi yaar. Is baar eid ki dawat wale din bol dungi pakka,” she assured Rabiya, holding her hand.
“Phir se kaha kho gaya?” Hamza asked Uzair as he sat leaning on the wall in the factory.
“Kahi nahi hamze. Tu bol, Yalina ka kya kahbar?”
“Yalina to ekdam khush hain, tu khoya khoya lag raha hai?” Hamza flung his arm around Uzair’s shoulder.
“Kya khoya khoya?” Uzair answered shyly.
“Tu Tariq Sahab ke ghar gaya tha kya?” Hamza looked at him with a teasing look.
“Tujhe kaise pata?” Uzair was surprised.
“Tera mu dekhke. Uski beti tujhe pasand karti hai, aur tu bhi usko dekhke khush hojata hain.” Hamza continued.
“Aisi baat nahi hai. Pyaari ladki hain bas.” Uzair’s cheeks had turned slightly red.
“Hain phir thik hain. Waise Rehman bhai ko to Tariq sahab ne ladka dekhne ko kaha hai uske liye.”
“Kya?” Uzair stood up hearing this.
“Hain. Woh bhabhi ke khala ka beta hai na, Fahad. Uski baat kar rahe the bhai. Achha ladka hai. Kamata bhi achhi hai.” Hamza looked at his face. He looked angry, irritated even.
“Ye baat mujhe kyu nahi pata. Kya matlab Fahad?” Uzair protested. He was present, and his Bhabhi had thought of Fahad.
Uzair knew she liked him; her crush was too evident, unlike his. He remembered when this happened; he had returned from Balochistan and gone to meet Tariq sahab for some election-related queries, and she had opened the door. It was not the first time he had seen her, but it was the first time he had really seen her. She was 20 then, bright, wearing a white suit; she looked like a swan. Her dark eyes were lined with kajal, her long raven hair open and flowing. She smiled and welcomed him, and it seemed to light the room. Slowly, he realised how sweet she was. How her presence brightened the room, how Naiem and Faizal waited for her as she was their sweetest Khala. How Ulfat Bhabhi loved her. How she treated everyone with respect and a smile, how she cared. It did not take long for Uzair to fall for her too. She was adorable when she fumbled sometimes in front of Uzair and said the most bizarre things. He had seen her sneakily looking at him too many times, and to be honest, it made him quite smug.
“Kyu tu uska ashiq lagta hain ya shohar?” Hamza’s voice brought him back from his imagination.
“Main jo bhi lagta hu.”
“Aree agar pasand hain to qubool karle na, kaunsa Bhai mana karenge. Waise bhi Tariq Sahab unke khas hain. Aur unki beti ko to sab pasand karte hain.” Hamza said.
Uzair knew this, and he had planned to confess soon; he was just hoping she would confess, but he guessed she was too shy.
“Woh hain bhi to kitni pyaari. Jaha jati hain ekdam ujala kar deti hain.”
“Jaise Uzair Miyan ke dil mein kya hain,” Hamza teased.
“Tu bhi na Hamza”, Uzair hit his shoulder.
“Hain hain. To kab bol raha hai?”
“Eid ke dawat par. Maine taufa lene ka socha hain.”
The haveli was buzzing with people and the scent of delicacies. The guests were greeting each other, but Uzair's eyes were searching for someone. Yalina saw his impatient gaze and went to him.
“Uzair bhai, Hamza to bol rahe the aaj aap kuch kehne wale ho.”
“Is Hamza ki to,” Uzair muttered.
“Kya hua Uzair bhai?” Yalina leaned towards him rising one eyebrow, giving him a teasing smile.
“Yalina tum bhi kya boti ho.” Uzair was really embarrassed now; his best friend could not keep one secret from Yalina. Uzair smiled shyly, making Yalina laugh a little.
“Ruko dikhata hu.” Uzair brought out a velvet box and opened it to reveal a stunning pair of jhumkas with small white pearls dangling.
“Wahh kitna payara hain” Yalina brought the box closer. It was probably the most stunning pair of jhumkas she had seen; she had to ask Uzair bhai where he got them from. She too wanted a pair like this.
“Usko ye wala safed bohot pasand hai.” Uzair continued.
“Oh ho.” Yalina placed her hands on her hips, looking at him with a mischievous smile as she asked, “To aap kaise bolenge use?” This made Uzair shy; he lowered his head a little, and a grin came on his face. “Aree sharma kyun rahe hain, boliye na.”
“Tum bhi na Yalina.”
She had seen this conversation happen. She finally dared to confess her feelings, but seeing him smiling with Yalina broke her heart. Really, Yalina was beautiful; she was the only daughter of a minister; surely, she was so much better. Why would Uzair even look at her if Yalina existed? She loved Uzair, but she wanted him to be happy, even if it meant her own sadness. She did not want to confess and create complications between them. It was better if she left, moved away enough that he lived happily and she did not have to see him. Maybe that way she would also forget him slowly. She ran away from there to her mother and said she was feeling unwell; her face was already pale, and her mother had agreed to let her go home, seeing her.
“Kya hua ro kyu rahi hain?” Rabiya asked. She had come to her place the instant she got a call from her and had heard her broken voice. “Aree bol to?” Rabiya asked her again, but she was weeping in her lap. The tears did not stop. She tried to speak, but her voice did not really support her; instead, more tears came.
“Hayee Dheere sas lele phehle.” Rabiya soothed her back, trying to comfort her.
“Woh Uzair who Yalina Jamali ke sath.” Hearing these lines, Rabiya understood what had happened. Uzair was probably with Yalina, and it broke her heart thinking about her best friend.
“Achaa Dheere Dheere” She continued soothing.
“Rabiya main kya karu. Main unse mohobaat karti hu per woh to…” she continued weeping in her best friend’s arms.
“Acha meri jaan aise nahi roote.” Rabiya tried to comfort her; she too was feeling so sad for her dear friend.
“Woh apki beti nahi dikh rahi.” Rehman asked Tarip Sahab as they sat to have dinner.
“Abhi to yahan hi thi Rehman bhai.” Tariq looked at his wife as if to ask where his princess was.
“Woh uska tabyad kharab lag raha tha to who chali gai.” His wife answered.
“Achanak se?” Uzair asked. He had been looking for her for quite some time now, but she was nowhere to be found. Hearing she had left made her quite sad.
“Hain, uska chehra bhi utra hua lag raha tha, isiliye maine bola ki chali ja ghar. Kyu? Kuch baat hain kya Uzair miyan?” her mother asked, looking at Uzair, who quickly looked down, and the whole table erupted in laughter; his secret was revealed.
The sun was setting as she walked out of her college gate. Suddenly, Uzair came in front of her. “Aap?”
“Tumhara tabiyat ab thik hain?” Uzair asked, looking at her face. The setting sun left a glow on her.
“Ji.” She answered and tried to walk forward.
“Waise tum aise chali ai eid wale din to main tumhare liye taufa laya tha”, Uzair said, bringing out the velvet box to give her.
“Per main nahi le sakti ise.” She said abruptly, trying not to look at him. She knew if she even looked at him, she would not be able to control her tears. She was trying to create distance, and here he was trying to give her gifts.
“Kyu?” Uzair looked at her face, trying to find something, maybe an answer or a reason.
“Main gair mard se taufa nahi le sakti”, she replied as she got up in her car.
Uzair stood there confused and alone. Gair mard? What did she mean? Was he ‘gair mard’ for her? When did it even happen? He was unsure of this.
“Teri liye rista aya hain”, her mother stated as she was watering the flowers in the garden in the evening.
“Haan kardo.” She replied, not even thinking twice.
“Kya?” Her mother had not expected this answer. But her daughter was behaving a little differently from a few days. She had brushed it off, thinking she was ill, but this had made her pause. Her daughter was always happy, chirpy, and the whole house brightened up due to her presence. Her sudden agreement and the voice she used made her mother suspicious. She put the watering pot down and went to sit beside her daughter.
“Beta tu thik to hain na”
“Hain ammi, mujhe kya hoga?”
“Nahi kuch dino se itni chup chup hain. Aur ek baar mein maan bhi gai shaadi ke liye. Pucha bhi nahi kaun hain”
“Ekdam thik hu ammi, aur aap aur abbu ne dekha hain to acha hi hoga. Aaplog waise bhi mere liye best sochte ho hamesha,” she said, looking a bit teary-eyed.
“Aree meri sehzadi. Aise na bol. Is ghar ki jaan hain tu, nahi karni shaadi to maat kar.” Her mother pulled her into her arms.
“Aise baat nahi hain ammi; aap hi bolti ho ek din to nikaah karna hain, to thik hain.”
“Meri jaan. Tujhe pata nahi tune mujhe kitna kush kardiya. Aisa rista dobara nahi ata” Her mother knew her daughter was a sensitive soul, and she could never get a better rista. She knew they would take care of her daughter like she did.
“Beta tu khush to hain na?” Her father, who saw the whole conversation, asked.
“Hain abbu, aap dono ne pasand kiya hai, acha to hoga.”
“Meri sehzadi”, her abbu placed a kiss on her forehead. His little princess had grown up too soon.
“Aap yaha?” She opened the door to see Uzair standing.
“Kyu ab main yaha a nahi sakta kya?” He said, lowering his head a little to bring it to her level.
“Nahi who baat nahi hai.” She moved a step back and said, “Abbu nahi hain ghar pe.”
“To maine kab bola main tumhare abbu se milne aaya hu.” Uzair took a step closer to her as she moved a step back.
“To?” She looked at him with her doe eyes, making Uzair's heart beat faster.
“Main to tumse milne aaya tha”, Uzair replied, looking at her eyes.
“Kya?” She was genuinely surprised. What was happening and why now? When she had finally planned to move on, and he was with Yalina. Was he playing with her?
“Hain.” He moved a stray lock away from her face and held her hand, placed the velvet box on her palm, “Tumhara taufa”
She felt overwhelmed with his touch. She wanted to keep holding his hand, but this was not fair; she had agreed to get married to a man; it would be unfair to her would-be-shouhar. She moved a step back and placed the box back into his hands. “Dekhiye, Uzair miyan, mera nikaah tai hogaya hain. Chale jaiye waha se.”
She ran back to her room, her eyes filled with tears; it was too late now.
Uzair sat confused in the factory beside Yalina and Hamza. He just wanted to meet his fiancé, spend some quality time with her and give her the gift, but she refused outright. He knew she liked him and now even agreed to marry him, then why was this sudden distance? Had he mistaken her feelings, or had she agreed to get married to him only because of her parents?
“Yaar, usne to hain kaha tha. Phir?” Uzair asked thoughtfully.
“Shayad sharma rahi hogi bhai,” Hamza answered.
“Per…”, Uzair was not convinced.
“Hain Uzair bhai, shayad nikaah tai ho gaya hai isiliye aapse door reh rahi hain, taki nikaah ke time tak aap thore se line pe raho.” Yalina teased, trying to comfort Uzair’s insecurities.
“Yalina tum bhi na.”
Rehman was sitting with some files in his study when Uzair entered. “Bhai kuch baat karni hain apse.”
“Kya hua?” He looked up, removing his glasses. Uzair’s troubled face made Rehman worried.
“Shaadi ke phele kya Bhabhi apse gift leti thi?”
Rehman let out a soft laugh hearing this. So, this was the trouble his brother was facing. “Hain pyaar se deta tha to leti thi.”
This seemed to have put Uzair in a more troubled state; he mumbled, Achaa and turned to move out of the study.
“Ruk. Kya hua?” Rehman stopped him.
"Nahi bhai, kuch nahi.” Uzair was unsure about asking his brother.
Seeing his dilemma, Rehman himself said, “Teri hone wali begam ke sath kuch hua hai kya?”
“Nahi bhai woh..”
Rehman walked to Uzair and placed his hand on Uzair’s shoulder, “Bol bhai hu tera.”
This gesture comforted him greatly, and he finally mumbled, “Woh bhai main uske liye taufa leke gaya tha, per woh mera taufa nahi le rahi. Bol rahi thi ki ab nikaah tai hogaya hai.”
Rehman laughed, “Aree, itni si baat. Shayad usko lagta hai ki ghar pe kuch bolenge. Tu apni Bhabhi ke haaton bhijwa de.” Rehman suggested a solution to solve his distress.
“Per mujhe dena tha.” Uzair wanted to give the gift to her with his own hands. He wanted to see how she looked wearing it. He wanted to spend some time with her.
“To kya hua, nikaah ke baad to sari zindegi apni haaton se taufa dena tu.” Rehman patted his brother’s back, comforting him.
She was sitting in the drawing room watching some random show on TV when she heard the doorbell ring. She stood up reluctantly to open the door.
“Bhabhi aap?” She smiled, looking at Ulfat Bhabhi, who looked gorgeous in a dark green suit.
Ulfat gave a full smile at her and said, “Andar nahi bulayegi?”
She quickly moved from the door and said, “Aree aiye na Bhabhi.”
Ulfat came in, followed by two men who carried boxes of gifts. She was surprised to see it, only to realise it was for the engagement which was to happen the next week. It made her heart ache a little; she was getting engaged to a man she did not know. All her life she had imagined her husband to be Uzair, but maybe that was not her destiny.
The men left, keeping the gifts on the table; her ammi had come out to greet Ulfat, greeting her with a hug. After changing pleasantries, Ulfat moved towards her and held her chin, looking at her face with soft motherly affection, “Mashallah ekdam chand jaisi lag rahi hain.”
“Shukhriya Bhabhi.”
“Eid ke din itni jaldi agai, varna waha hi nikaah wali sari baatein tai hojati.” Ulfat said.
Eid ke din? Oh, that meant on the day of Eid itself her parents had fixed her marriage. Well, it was good she had her realisation that day itself. She was not really curious about the man she would get married to, but this fueled the question: was the man present in the Eid feast?
“Woh achanak se tabyat kharab ho gai.” She replied, feeling guilty about leaving so early. Ulfat Bhabhi and Rehman bhai must have felt bad.
“Koi baat nahi hai. Ab to paas hi rahenge,” Ulfat replied, patting her head as she sat down on the sofa.
Paas? She was about to ask how they would stay close, when her ammi suddenly said, “Waise tumhari bhi to kitni tayaari rahegi.”
Taiyaari? What preparations did Bhabhi have? Were they also planning Uzair’s wedding to Yalina? This made her heart ache again; the wounds from the night of Eid became raw again.
“Per beti ki shaadi ki tayaari ki alag hi baat hain. Humara kya hain?” Ulfat replied.
“Aise na bolo” her ammi commented, “Shaadi wala ghar ka matalb hi hain dher sara kaam.”
Her ammi looked at her sitting quietly, lost in her own world, and asked, “Tujhe kya hua beta?”
She came out of her thoughts and replied, “Kuch nahi, bas saar dard ho raha hai.”
Ulfat caressed her head, “Aree shaadi se pehel stress maat le bacha.” She fetched a small velvet box from her bag and handed it to her, “Ye lo.”
She opened the box to find the pair of most beautiful-looking jhumkas she had ever seen. The pearls dangling from them were the same shade of white she loved. “Mere liye. Kitna sundar hain Bhabhi.”
Ulfat smiled, looking at the joy in her face; her devar did know his fiancée’s favourites. “Sundar to hain. Ja pehen ke dikha.”
She quickly put on the jhumkas, and it earned a Mashallah from the two older women, making her shy.
“Beta, engagement wala jora apne kamre se laake Bhabhi ko dikha de” her ammi suggested.
“Hain ammi.” She agreed and went to her room.
She hummed softly as she entered the room and went to open the almirah. She saw the reflection of a man in the mirror and was about to shriek when she felt a hand press against her mouth,“Shhh”
Her eyes became wider. What was Uzair doing in her room?
“Uzair?”
“Mashaallah kya sundar lag rahe hain ye jhumke pehenke.” Uzair was awestruck. The jhumka enhanced her features. It looked so beautiful. He held her face between his hands and kissed her forehead with love and devotion. This made her freeze.
“Kya kar rahe hain aap?” She asked in a shaky voice, looking utterly conflicted.
“Kya ab kya hua. Main apni hone wali begam ko dekh bhi nahi sakta nikaah se phehle?” Uzair asked her with seriousness. He was her fiancé; he could spend time with her, look at her, love her.
“Kya? Main? Hone wali begam?” She was confused. What was Uzair even saying? Was she his hone wali begum?
“Hain,” Uzair answered, even more confused.
“Main?”
“Hain. Tumne hi to nikaah ke liye hain bola.”
“Mera aur aapka nikah?”
Was she even hearing the right thing? She moved to sit on the bed and took a sip of water from the glass placed on the bedside table.
Uzair sat beside her and asked, “Tum mujhe pasand kati ho na?”
She looked at his eyes, filled with desperation, and it made her even more confused. “Per aap to Yalina ke sath the?”
“Kya?” What was she saying now?
“Eid wale din. Maine aap dono ko dekha.” She tried to reason.
“Kya dekha?”
“Aap uske saath has rahe the. Aur baatein kar rahe the. Main to aapse baat karne aane wali thi. Per…”
“Per kya?”
“Mujhe laga aap dono eksath ho to main…” She now felt utterly foolish.
Uzair looked at her innocent face; he understood her confusion and let out a soft laugh. She was adorable. “Aree meri baby.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Meri jaan.” Another kiss on her cheeks. “Main bhi to aapse usi din baat karne wala tha, wahi bol raha tha main Yalina ko.”
This was a big revelation for her. She had caused herself so much pain without any reason. The biggest reveal was that her crush, Uzair, liked her back and they were going to get married. She was going to get engaged to him in a week. Hell, she needed to talk to Rabiya. Rabiya had called her a fool for agreeing to marry a random man without asking anything about him, but she was too damn lucky.
Uzair pulled her a little closer, “Ussi din to Bhai ne mere nikaah ki baat ki tumhare abbu se, tum rehti to wahan hi baat pakki hojati.”
“Kya?” She was surprised. Oh God, she was such a fool; if she had just stayed a little longer at the Eid dinner, she would not have tortured herself for these 2 week. Her emotions were clearly visible on her face.
Uzair held her face in his hands and asked, “Hain. Aur meri jaan ko laga ki main kisi aur se mohabbat karta hoon?” The tone was teasing.
She was already very embarrassed at her behaviour, and the proximity and teasing were making her even more shy. She realised she might have dreamt of kissing him and more, but in reality she could not take his touch without her body feeling completely shattered, her heart beating and her core throbbing. She felt weak at the touch of his warm hands; his thick masculine scent filled her lungs, and she felt like she was slowly losing her sense of reality.
She used all her self-control to move a little away, “Jaiye aapse baat nahi karni mujhe.”
Uzair was not having any of that. He had waited enough; he wanted her close. He pulled her closer, placing her hands behind her body and pressed his body against her. Her softness enticed him. He took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. He felt her breath quicken as he placed a soft kiss on the exposed skin, just above her heart. Uzair could swear he had never felt anything softer than that.
“Aise kaise ab to nikaah hone wala hai, aur dekhu to sahi mera tufa pehenke kaise lag rahi ho.” He whispered near her left ear, placing a soft bite on it.
“Aapka taufa?” She muttered.
“Hain ye jhumka.” Uzair touched the jhumkas she wore and rubbed his fingers on the skin of her ears, making her even more weak.
Her throat was dry. She arched slightly, her neck visible, and he placed a kiss on her neck and he placed his hands just below his hip and pulled her on his lap. She swore he forgot everything in the world. His warmth seeped through the thin layer of their clothes. Her vision felt hazy as Uzair continued placing kisses on her neck. Uzair pulled her dupatta away, throwing it somewhere. None of them cared. Uzair pulled herself closer; she was sitting on his lap, her legs on either side of his hips. The pull made her press against his arousal, and she let out a moan. Uzair could not believe his ears; it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He held her hair with one hand and placed the other on her hip and pushed his arousal against her again, this time grinding himself against her. She let out the sound again; it was maddening.
“Jao aap”, she finally let out, not really meaning it as she scratched at the hair on his neck.
Uzair rubbed his nose against hers and confessed, “I love you”
She smiled and replied, “I love you too”, placing her lips on his.
He deepened the kiss, pulling her so close that there was not even space for air between them. He looked at her with eyes full of love and confessed, “Main bohot Mohabbat karta hu tumse, bohot zaada.” As he wrapped his arms around her. This made her fall on the bed on her back, with him on her, her legs still wrapped around his hips. He continued kissing her, lips parting just for air. His lips moved from her lips to her neck and then lower. Her fingers were grabbing the hair at the back of his neck; her collarbone was slightly burning owing to the scratching of his beard. Her senses were overloaded. The world around her was slowly fading away; only Uzair existed, and the maddening weight of his body on her.
“Ya, Allah.” The sudden voice made them both suddenly aware. She pushed Uzair off her.
Uzair himself was confused for a moment and looked at the door to see Ulfat Bhabhi standing frozen; she looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her or them, “Bhabhi aap.”
Ulfat moved towards Uzair and whisper-shouted, “Ye kya kar rahe the? Sharam nahi hain kya? Tumhari to hone wali biwi hain. Do din ruk jaoge to kuch ho nahi jayega. Bechari ka chehra dekho laal par gaya hain”
She looked like she wanted to run away. Ufalt moved towards her and held her chin to make her look at her. Her cheeks were flaming red, her neck was now littered with marks, and her kurta was pulled much lower than before. She gave her the dupatta lying on the side.
“Ye Baloch hote hi aise hain. Dono bhai ek jaise.” Ulfat gave him a side eye.
“Sorry na Bhabhi” Uzair tried to look guilty, but he was too smug.
“Abhi jao,” Ulfat commented, and Uzair moved towards her balcony. “Wahan se kaha ja rehe ho seeri se utro. Ye ladka”
She smiled, looking at Uzair, who gave her a sheepish look.
“Aur tu bhi has mat. Isko sar pe charhaya to hogaya tera.”
“Sorry, Bhabhi.” She said shyly.
Well, we can say, Ulfat had to keep strict regulations to stop Uzair from sneaking out of the haveli. And for her, she was happy and blessed; Uzair did love her very much, maybe even more than she loved him.
Tagging my baddies: @lutt-le-gaya @nevereversaygoodbye @hamzakamehroomkurta @mainyahaankyunhoon @precioussophia @aoyamaj3711 @angelicyuna @torumii @sarcastic-ravenpuff @cvclee @miraclejin1204 @diyak11 @sunf1over @hereforfanfictionsfr @tobitoooo @cherryyelixir @saniisinsane @mrgrungusthefrog @sinnoire @opheliasreblog @mujhekoimarsbhejdo @goldenharrysworld @gulaabjamun08 @idonthavechatpateusernamed @rutvii @rhopalocera23 @goldenharrysworld @y0uneversawmehere @ooopssssu @vaari-javaan @royaldreamermonsoon @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @ishq-e-rehman @khoonaurkhanjar @cloudyparadoxqueen @main-apni-favorite-nahi-hoon @prettylady2006 @theanonymousweeb2010 @mysticalnightingale @gehra-hua
(In case any of you guys wanna be added or removed, please tell me in the comments)
For my other fics: My Masterlist
a/n - my first ever hamza fic!!! PLEASE DONT MAKE IT FLOP, i know i am known for my tapori Uzair and daddy Iqbal but ahem i think i wrote well :P, also Zaviyar is Hamza spy name, dont get confused my cutus, i added translations cause the dialgoues could be a bit hard to understand since i do not speak urdu it was a little hard to write this way but i tried my best, happy reading ( first part to a two shot?)
warnings - Age gap (21-34) , manipulative Hamza, violence, animal hunting, virgin! reader, thigh riding, oral ( f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected ( wrap it before you tap it), Hamza is basically talking you through every single thing, reader is a little shy at times, idk if this a warning lol
The threads were stitched deliberately into the cotton cloth, repeated lines of brow, deep brown till it created a shape.Black didn't outline the whole of it, a good artist always knew not to do that, the only spot where absolute black was where the eyes would and the weaved thread suddenly turned into something alive - innocent and wide eyes, dousing with lashes. It was almost like an ordinary deer only it had four horns and a look more heartbreakingly naive than a deer - it was a chousingha.
It was perched on the vibrant grass, resting into your mothers hand peacefully in the embroidered piece, the last of what remained of your ammi jaan. Chousingha are extremely timid, often hiding behind thick bushes and impossible to find in the north your father had occupied, but your mother’s stories brought them to you. She had spent time in her homeland nurturing the wild with her hands, she would tell how she found her solace in the forests, resting against the tree with the very animal in her hands and how she had prayed to the god for a child as beautiful as the gentle life in her hands.
Living up to your father’s idea of you was beneath you, he loved you but that was all to it. And as his only daughter you weren't held up for the value to the family ,but for only and only for the blood you were born of, and for you - yes you were more than precious but that blurred the line where he could see you as an individual apart from being his delicate princess.
You had nothing against delicateness but you couldn't and wouldn't cage yourself to something others wanted for you, but the escapes were limited so you knew only one- hunting. Growing up hidden from the world locked away,deemed too ‘precious’ for your own, had only helped you learn one thing - the preciseness at which to move your body so it wouldn't catch eyes, so it wouldn't make sound, while you sneak into the forest.
The wind was heavy making the leaves slap together, the loud rustles going off in the air mixing with the roar of the eagles as it set up in the sky from the branch
You had surely acquired your heart for hunting because your mother was too gentle for this, but too much of anything brings nothing but doom- look at where she ended up, married to a man like your father.
You couldn't blame her
You thought walking forward, holding the bow loosely in one hand, the dry leaves breaking into pieces beneath your jutti.
You yourself had no clue for what you will do when the time comes and your father finds a reasonable match, the one that aligned with his political decision. You had tried courting before but it bored you terribly, none of them felt like remotely real human beings, stuck up too high in their prides.
Dense trees hid the clear blue sky from you creating its own canopy as you shifted through shadows till you reached an open spot-
A shadow at the very corner
It was of a deer only it wasn't an ordinary dear, the shadow curved awkwardly making the lines appear blunt but it had four small horns
It wasn't supposed to be there
They don't come around her
You are in the very north
You tried to reason with yourself but your heart had already lept your mother’s, what could have you wanted more than seeing what your mother had always told you about, and see it in flesh instead of embroidered piece behind glass
So you followed
It skidded away
The bush rustling violently with it
Timid creatures; that's what your mother had told you. You dashed running after it, you couldn't shoot it just as easily you had shot the others- you just couldn't. Your lungs burned with how fast you had ran to keep up with the deer, feet felt like they were set ablaze inside the shoes and kept going and going following the thud and low hums of the wild thing.
You were led astray into the forest, the rustle of the leaves coaxed you into the unknown.
You realised that little too late, you had wandered in too far and over what? A stupid deer. You check back at your shoulder -three arrow left, you were screwed astronomically, you were. The skies had leaked into something darker and the pit in your stomach grew, your father had no whiff as to where you would be, there was absolutely no one coming to save you.
You had ventured the woods enough throughout the years to know you had ended up in a dangerous spot, more than likely habitat to the predatory animals
The dry wind whispers through the tall grass. A striped shadow waits behind the green leaves. The sharp eyes of the beast watched your every move, it was a hyena you could figure that much out from the shadow. You had hunted before it should have been that hard but then you saw it.. There were at least five of them. You pull your bowstring tight. You panic and let the first arrow fly into the dirt. You fire the second arrow, but it misses the head, you only need to kill one to scare away the others.
You heard loud thumping footsteps from behind, possibly a running animal. You shoot your final third arrow at the back into the empty air due to the pure dread of it being a larger predatory animal .
The hyena leaped out of the brush, you jerked but surprisingly never met with the blow you expected.
You despised being the damsel in distress, despised being the delicate princess who had to live under the safety of your knights and the 'care' of your father but who would have remembered their morals, their sanity their very being in front of the man who emerged as a stone statue to your deliverance. The bronze of his skin turned gold where the scattered sunlight seeping from the trees escaped, grazing the part of his face and muscular arms.
He looked back to find you had been staring at him, your eyes set on his face . Your breath hitched - he was beautiful. Possibly older than you by a decade or so, but his green eyes held you grounded. It was like fresh mist mixing with deep ocean green and your mind hadn't felt this clouded in ages.
“Aap janti bhi hain ke ye jangal kitna khofnak hai? Kya lene aayi hain aap yahan? Yahan aap jaisi shehzadiyon ki koi jagah nahi” and then it was his voice, making your bones feel lighter but the word brightened up the offense and the shame you had already, of not being able to protect yourself
“ Aap kaun hote hai humne sikhaane waale? Humne kisi..dehqan ki ijazat nahi chaiye kahi jaane ke liye”
" Who are you tell me what to do, what not to do ? Should i be taking permission from a peasant now to go where I want?"
You look at his clothes, the fabric appeared rough and worn out, enough to tell you he was a peasant.
"Ye jangal ghuroor ko zinda nigal jata hai, Shehzadi Sahiba. Isse pehle ke raat ho jaye, wapas laut chaliye"
" This forest is going to eat your pride away, your highness we must return before the sun sets"
Is he insisting for you to go with him? Your stomach pooled with a strange sensation as he walked past you, already reading the horse for your both departure without a word of agreement from you. You could smell the sandalwood on him as he walked past mixed with the sweat from the sun, almost feel the long terres of hair that covered the nape of his neck.
The rationality inside you wanted to die, the way his hands worked to fix up the saddle, how his thick fingers were decorated with rings, the size of his bicep larger than your entire face and the low hum of his voice - all of it had you entranced. But you were a princess and above all a woman, everything was cautionary but would you have really mind him abducting you?
“ Chalo”
“Ek dehqan ke sath? Hum bhala kyun chaloon aap ke sath?!"
" I will go with a peasant? WHY WOULD I GO WITH YOU?"
The word might have hit him too hard, or maybe it was your tone reeking of stubborness, you could have said why would you go with a stranger but no you decided on that. He stepped forward methodically slowly, almost instantly you were stepping back trying to create distance. He followed back your retrieving steps without a hint of his intentions on his face, but you only knew that the closer he got the wider the span of his chest got, the more you were engulfed into his frame you realised how helpless you were.
Your back hit the tree, “ Maut ka irada hai? Nahi na ,toh fir chalo” He inched closer, “ Nahi mai nahi chalungi!”
That was it
His coarse palm wrapped around wrist to force you forward into his lead, it wasn't bruising it was with the carefulness with which people carried valuable assets, hard enough to make you move but not hard enough to leave a mark- he was determined on the being the savior and any harm to his mean would cease the mission all together.
He put you up on the horse like you weighed nothing before you could have protested that your back was crushed against his chest, his heavy chin resting on your shoulder both his arms going by your sides to keep you caged and guide the horse. The leather dug into the back of your thighs, his heart burned at your back through the thin fabric, each pulse made your own heart beat faster, your breath rise.
Red marked your skin with how his rough beard scratched at your skin, you squirmed finally“ Ishthir baitho y/n” “Tumhaari ye majal ke tum mera naam lo?!" You grunted, putting effort into making your body move actually, rather than mindless squirming but your name, well your name has never sounded better before.
He sped up, one arm looping around your waist to keep you still. You screamed hard - the way his breath fell on your neck, he was closer now, his thighs touching your body and just the sheer proximity was making something tingle in between your legs. “ Isthir baitho y/n varna yahi se gira dunga” His voice was so calm that the threat went over your head. What remained was the vibration that went through your body at the low rasp in your ear.
Your cheeks flushed red from the cold wind hitting your face and by how purely humiliating and exciting this was at the same time, he saw how you weren't used to your body cutting through the air, the way your face furrowed at the harsh sensation. In a fraction he had wrapped the loose cloth from his body over your chest, pulling you into his chest.
The bumps brought you closer, if you got too afraid you would go and squeal into his chest like you had known him all your life.
You were scared
Scared of all the feelings rushing through you, scared at what your father would have to say for it but you weren't going to go meek, you couldn't afford that.
The horses neighed loudly as he stopped at the entrance of your castle,
the guards were already more alert than ever with the princess being missing for hours now,
“ Kaun ho tum?” One asked, their hands fixed on the sword at the side
He didn't answer, just swept the cloth you hide into the side revealing your face to the guards. With a hissing clink of the metal on metal, all swords were drawn on him, the blades glistening in the dark.
“ Bas”
Your father’s voice cut the chaos as he stepped forward, each person bowed their head lowering and so did their swords at the raise of his hands,
He got off the horse, putting you steady on your feet before bowing as well
“ Naam?” Your father asked
“ Zaviyar”
Your head snapped to his side, watching the way his lips moved as he said it, Zaviyar - that was going to be imprinted in your mind now, though the name sounded almost unfamiliar to his own lips
“ Meri beti ko haath lagate ho?” " You dare touch her?"
“Main ne unhein sirf un ki jaan bachaane ki khaatir haath lagaya tha.”“I only touched her to save her”
What a lie? Yes his touch didn't wander into places where it shouldn't have but the intensity spoke for itself, he touched her because he wanted to touch her.
“Kya khabar bhi hai aap ko ke un ki jaan par kya bani thi? Aap apni waahid nishani ko yoon bay-aasra kaise choor sakte hain ke woh apni hi shararton ki nazr ho jaye?”
“ Do you know what danger she was in? How could you let the only daughter you have get loose and run off to her own mischief”
“ You will teach me what to do now?”
“Jalaalat-maab! Main aap ko yeh nahi sikha raha ke aap ko kya karna chahiye, balkay main aap ko yeh bata raha hoon ke agar main aik lamha bhi dair kar deta… to aap ki beti, yaani iss saltanat ki shahzadi, iss waqt duniya mein nahi hoti.”
“ I am not teaching you what to do your highness, i am telling you if i were a minute later your daughter, the royal princess would have been dead”
You were not allowed out for obvious reasons but its not like you ever listened or confined yourself to what your father had told you, but you couldn't upset him further by sneaking out so you were just sneaking in the perimeters of your own home.
The rescue had been too calculated too intentional , you were not naïve you saw the look in his eyes that tried to guise the concealed under a forged kindness of a man who simply stumbled upon the shehzadi's perturbation and saved her, risking his life like a godly man
Sleep was hard to come, as the second you dared to close your eyes his face would enthrall you all over again. There was a desperate yearning that was already gnawing at your chest, the excitement thrilled you, he was everything you couldn't have and the wrongness of him only harboured a twisted affection.
“ Zaviyar” you whispered to yourself, falling into a restless sleep
White marble shone under the sunlight, the ambers of the sun catching at the water you swirled. You laid on your stomach, one hand submerged in the pond in front of you.The anarkali you had graced yourself in was long, falling till your ankles, the ivory white mixing with marble but the bright gold zari work shined through.
Water bended to your palm, curling around as you moved your wrist , the fishes tickled at your skin adding to the soft kisses from the water, you were having the time of your idling around, when you heard footsteps approaching.
Your hair was let free completely, unrestrained, untamed wild curls and you knew how much your father would appreciate that, you sat up a little still very much on your stomach, your chest spilling through the neckline as the fabric strained against your breast, that’s when Zaviyar caught your eyes, standing metres away from you and your father was positioned facing away from you, they both were moving in the opposite direction from yours
You felt it again, that same feeling flooding your stomach ,the way your heart had to start working harder, he only glanced for a second but the effect was done, with the way he had measured every inch of your body with a quiet authority as if already certain that all of you was his.
“ I must say that the bloom of spring of your garden is the most gorgeous one, what a beautiful flower you have there”
He spoke with your abbu jaan, his eyes never once ever so slightly moving an inch to your face, but the encrypted message reached its rightful hearer, he was talking about you, perched up at the end of the glowing pound, out when you were not supposed to be.
Your lips curled into a smile, he didn't risk to watch your again and yet just like you, he had known your were smiling
The more they walked farther, their voices became a blur in your ear, and the more his figure became distant you couldn't control yourself. You sprinted across the thin bridged pathway between the ponds to hide behind a pillar.
You could over hear the broken bits of their before you got caught
“Main saaf keh raha hoon… aap ke inn na-aahal pehredaron se kahin behtar hifazat main kar sakta hoon un ki.”
"I am saying I could make a better knight for her than the ones you have"
"Bhala iss qadar khud-etamaadi?” " Such confidence?"
"Main inn sab ko lalkarta hoon. In sab ko mila kar bhi jo pehra bane ga, main akela inn se barh kar aik sacha muhafiz saabit hoon ga.”
"I challenge them, I make a better protector then than all of them combined"
You had heard the commotion the next day and you were more than sure what it was, running through the corridors, your heart beating wildly
The mid-day sun beats down on the red sandstone courtyard as four imperial guards draw their heavy steel talwars, forming a tight circle around the single warrior who stands calm, gripping his curved khanda with both hands. Dust swirls around his leather boots as the first tall soldier steps forward from the left, swinging his blade hard toward the lone man's neck.
Zaviyar ducks low, his steel blade sparking loudly as he blocks the incoming strike, but a second guard lunges fast from behind to drive a sharp dagger toward his spine. Spinning on his heel,
Zaviyar acted fast,driving his elbow into the attacker's armored face, yet the distraction allowed a third guard's talwar to bite deep into his left shoulder, slicing through his leather armor and pouring crimson blood down his arm.
Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain, the warrior leaps backward onto the stone steps to reset his stance just as the final two guards charge forward at the same time.
Your watched down from the open jharoka, your ears turning teary at the sight and he noticed, looking you right in the eyes letting you feel how this was all dedicated for you, the blood he had soaked himself in, the wounds he had endured all for you
In a desperate, blinding flurry of steel and the confidence that this was going exactly the way he had wanted , he parries their twin swords and counters with a sweeping strike that cuts down his opponents, though a stray blade catches his thigh in the chaos. The four guards finally lie defeated on the blood-stained courtyard, leaving the victorious but heavily injured warrior leaning on his weapon, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he binds his bleeding wounds with a torn piece of his silk sash.
He fell to the ground not before passing you a smile
You looked past plainly put deceitful nature of his kindness, you looked past everything to watch the man duel for the title of your knight oh how romantically he bled for you. Your heart had made space for a man that was far too dangerous for your own understanding .
You couldn't stay in your bed any longer, feet finding the ground on its own. You padded down the stairs under the conduct of the lighted candle in your hand, your steps with the precision they had been whenever you had slipped off the walls of your castles, carrying yourself to a distant corner - a wing for servants.
Covering your face was a necessity, you moved quiet as a breeze before knocking on his door.
He had been expecting for you to come, he hated himself for he had been anticipating this for reasons apart from his mission,for the selfish part of himself that has been put off by your fire.
Your face was devoid of any extra steps you would have put to appear more pd, only dark soorma lining the water line of your eyes, dressed in a comfortable loose peshwaz of silk that moved in waves with your body as you dashed in, closing the door shut quickly for your sake.
Zaviyar watched quietly as you undid the fabric from around your face, the line of your lips slanted downward enough to know he was going to earn a scolding, and with the glare she met his eyes, he felt it to his heart.
“ Kya suji thi tumhein? Kya jarrurat yeh sab karne ki? Sabke saamne abbu ke aage shart rakhna voh bhi aisi?”
“ What was going through your head? What was the need for this? To put up such a challenge to my father"
He didn't reply, just smirked
Fuming you moved closer to him ,forgetting how he was twice your size, forgetting how he could snap you in one go, you pushed at his chest.
“ Mujhe has ke mat dikhao Zaviyar”
“ Don’t laugh at me now, Zaviyar”
You had been burning from the second you had entered his room, the chamber was already small but something about him made even that suffocation amplify, he was half undressed, his upper body bare and covered in bandages, only a thin flimsy pyjama covered the rest. He was bulky like you had expected him to be underneath those clothes, dark hair covering the whole of his chest and down to the line in between his stomach- your cheeks turned rose at the feel of his skin and with your own realisation of how you had been eyeing him.
The candle worked through the dark room, illuminating both of your faces in the pale yellow and you already knew how his skin would turn into gold at the light, his hand moved above your taking the candle gently from your hand.
He walked with it to the corner, and for a few seconds the world went black as he blew out the candle
“ Za..Zaviyar?” The oil lamp once again lightened the room, restoring your stolen breath. He sat down on the bed, his hands on his side - he didn't ask you to sit with him but there was an absolute that bent you against your own conscience.
You climbed up the bed, holding the fabric of your peshwaz to adjust it to your movement, the bed creaked gently and for the first time you were in a men’s bed and you could hear your heartbeat in your wrist with how it was pounding. You weren't really being the dutiful daughter right now , were you?
He started explaining slow “ Ladna mera farz hai, mansab-e-sipahgari mere liye izzat aur abroo ka baais hoga, aur sab se badh kar yeh ki... aap jaisi sanm-e-be-misaal, dilnawz ki qurbat paane ki khaatir, bhala kon apni jaan ka nazrana pesh karne se guraiz karega?”
“Fighting is my duty, being a knight would bring me pride and honour and above all who would put their life on line for beauty like yours, a beauty that is incomparable”
Bewitched you had moved closer, tracing the rough tied edge of his bandages
“ Yeh kisne baandhi hai?” “ Who tied these”
“ Maine” “ I did it myself”
“ Bahut kharab baandhi hai” “ You are horrible at it”
You wrapped the clean cloth around his wounds carefully, everything mechanical apart from the slight shaking of your hands. You have done a neat job,
“ Bohat mahir hain aap, aap ko yeh kis ne sikhaya?”
“ You are very skilled at it, who has taught you such a thing?”
“Hum ne yeh kaam khud ko sikhaya hai..” “ I have taught myself”
You secured the knot, your finger still brushing at his bicep.
“ Jab hum chup kar shikaar aur khelne jaate the, to apne zakham abbu ko nahi dikha sakti thi... kisi aur ko dikhana to door ki baat hai. Humne khud hi apni patti karni parti thi.”
“ When I sneak out to mess around and hunt, the wounds I got I couldn't really show them to them to my father let alone anyone else, I had to learn to do it myself”
“Itni choti umr mein... aur itna dard? Afsoos ki aap ko apne zakham chupaane pare. Koi ladki is umar mein khud apne zakham nahi seeti”
“ This pain at such a young age? It’s a shame you had to hide your wonders. A girl your age should not be tending to her own wounds, her own pain”
his voice had gone deeper all of a sudden, his eyes locking onto your face, trying to drain the sense and fight out of you with his intensity.
Green was all you saw, “Tumhari hifazat aur tumahra nazzara... bas yahi meri tamanna thi. Main kab se door khara tumhari ibadat kar raha hoon. Tum jaisi nazneen ko jis azaadi ki talaash hai, woh sirf mere paas milegi”
Ibadat mentioned 😛🤙😛
"I wanted to be a knight, to watch you, to guard you, i have been admiring you for some time now and a girl like you would experience all the freedom she needs with me"
he treaded the words to you, your chest heaved with an impatient string of breaths that you couldn't control.
“ Kya bo..bol rahe ho… tum Z..Zaviyar” “ What are you saying Zaviyar”
“Khuda ki qasam, kaainaat ke sab se bare shair ne bhi aisa misra nahi likha hoga jaisa tumhara yeh tawazun hai y/n"
“ Ha-Hadd mei raho a–apni” "Stay in your limits"
“Tumhari aawaz, tumhari saanson ki yeh tapish, aur tumhare chehre par chaati yeh laali... tum chupaana bhi chaho to yeh maasoom aankhen tumhara saara kacha-chitha khool rahi hain.Tumhari khwahishe nazar aa rahi hai, magar tum itni darpok ho ke khud se bhi iss ka aitraaf nahi kar paa rahi ho”
"Your breath fastens when you talk to me, your cheeks turn red, your innocent eyes burn with a desire that you do not want to admit to , but poor you, you are too afraid to admit to,to submit to it"
He poked right at your pride, it was true, even the task of looking him in the eyes felt like a battle in which your lashes lowered and raised without your permission but you couldn't bear to hear it from his mouth.
“ Hum darpok nahi hai” You argued back, raising your chin bridging the small remaining gap between you both, resting your hands on his scarred chest, it felt like a stone wall under your touch, you were aware of just how much strength he had but you couldn't help yourself.
His lips had never left the smugness behind, holding up a controlled smirk, his thumb brushed down the arch of your cheek and you broke, your body shivering.
He tipped his head, satisfied with how you gave the testament to his statement right away but the feel of his skin running down blurred your senses. You opened your mouth to continue the argument but he had leaned closer. Suddenly the air stuck to your skin and the oxygen from your air dissipated, his eyes were glued to your quivering lips.
“ Zaviyar” You whispered, closing your eyes.
His lips touched yours in a featherlight kiss, you sat still as a statue until you couldn't handle the temptation. Your body hiked up, you tilted your head and started a slow passionate kiss, you could taste the faint natural taste of saliva and the moisture of his lips. God your father was going to kill you- you reminded yourself but pressed closer to him. He didn't rush it, he wanted your surrender to be so slow that you wouldn't even notice that he lured you into it, he only kissed you properly when you had started squirming with overwhelming need, pulling back to watch him.
He slammed his lips against yours, his large hand covered the whole of the back of your head keeping your lips locked with his as he moved hungrily. Flesh traced at the seam of your lips making you gasp involuntarily- he swept in, tangling his tongue with yours.
The heat of the kiss travelled straight to the pulsing ache in between your legs, your nipple poking at the thin fabric. You moved your head to his commands, trying your best to keep up but in the end he won out and you remained with your head leaned back, breathing into his mouth.
“ Zaviyar” You moaned helplessly.
Hamza knew it was foolish, self destructive but he couldn't handle it, the way some other man slipped off your lips so easily, it made his stomach churn with envy. Only he deserved to hear it, it was only his to hear in the first place.
You both both your hands on his shoulder for some control and to not directly fall into the mattress as another breathy moan escaped your lips
“ Zaviyar-”
“ Hamza”
He corrected, forcing to hide the disbelief on his face and train his expression back to what would be considered normal
“ Kya?”
“ Mere kareebi mujhe Hamza bulate hai” " People who are close to me call me Hamza"
You nodded cluelessly,but that didn't explain the brief jealousy on his face. He shut off your thoughts again with another searing kiss, this time when he pulled back to let you breathe his lips still refused to leave you.
Dragging them down the line of your neck to the hollow of your throat, his lips pursed around the skin sucking a red mark there before he again dragged his lips, this time to your shoulder. His teeth caught at the cloth resting there, he met you briefly, seeking permission.
You sighed, nodding
He peeled the clothes off of your body, down your shoulder and you let him. He stopped in between, his warm mouth meeting your clothed nipples, his eyes tracing the shape of the peaks that protruded before he finally captured it into his mouth, sucking feverishly.
You whimpered, your hands twisting in his gorgeous hair, his salvia dampened the cloth enough for the colour of nipples to peek out, making him hum deliciously. “ Ya khuda” He couldn't bother with leaving the tender flesh alone for now, using his hand to pull down the fabric. You trembled, your breast exposed to the air of the room,to his eyes. There was certainly no going back now.
Your every little sense was heightened, breath hitching every two seconds as he sucked and flicked the bud with his mouth, the left breast being tortured by his hands, kneaded and squeezed as his rings delved into your skin, the cold metal contrasting delightfully with his warmth.
“Meri nazron ne aaj tak kaainaat mein koi shay itni dilkash nahi dekhi, jitni tum ho”
He whispered burying his face into the cleavage he formed by moulding both the breasts together, you leaned into his touch.
He pressed you slowly into the mattress, once again blurring your thoughts with his lips, his hands pulling down your clothes completely but he didn't look down for now, letting his hands work around and map every inch of your skin. The bedding wasn't even nearly comfortable as to what you were used to, you wondered if your back would cramp just by the feel of it and then you felt it. One thick finger pressing at your entrance
You instantly flinched back
He shushed you, his hands gently moving up your slit to your clit, pressing the rough pad of his thumb firmly onto it. He saw the uncertainty , how the fear seemed to take over the arousal -he understood it, he was so much larger than you, and being pinned beneath him, it could feel terrifying for anyone and especially for someone who absolutely shouldn't be doing this.
He pulled back, relaxing completely against the headboard. You laid still for a few moments , getting your breath back together and finally sat up when the desperation took over you again, missing the touch he just took away.
“ Kya hua Hamza?”
Hamza, fuck that voice was going to kill him one day
“ Tumhien dar lag raha tha y/n ?” it was gentle inspection
“ Haan” You breathed out
“Main chahta hoon ke tum apne khauf se baahar aao, apni haddon ko chor do”
“ Par mai-”
He patted his muscular thigh cutting you off, the demand was so oppressive but before you knew it you had complied. ‘ As innocent as a dear’ He thought watching you climb over his clothed thigh,like it was his lip with both your legs on the same side.
He chuckled roughly at the naiveness, repositioning you in one go so your leaking cunt felt right over the rigid muscle. A throaty moan graced your lips on cue, your body hovering over him before surrendering completely. You felt yourself pulse embarrassingly hard but you at least you had gathered enough courage to sit there, like this.
“Tum bohat bahadur ho, meri jaan”
He praised and you leaked out more, you needed more, you needed something to soothe the ache so you started whining, looking at his face for guidance.
“ Shh Shh”
He shushed you once again with the temperament of a man dealing with a stubborn animal rather than your needs, his heavy hands holding your hips ,snaking down to cup your ass and pulling back and forth on himself . The friction was so delirious that your eyes almost rolled back, for a few more seconds he kept up the rhythm teaching you how to please yourself before abandoning his hold on you all together.
You whined again but this time he paid no mind watching you with an unimpressed expression, he wasn't going to help you anymore. But moving your own meant admitting how much you needed this.
You grinded hard burning yourself
“ Aaram se” his voice deep and growly only adding onto your seeping wetness.
You complied, resorting to slow rolls that send spark throughout your body, you were mortified at what you were doing and how you were enjoying it. The wide slab of muscles tense beneath you as your fluid stained the white muslin clothes.
“ Tumhara yeh badan , yeh wajood mere libaas pe apni gawai chor raha hai y/n” " Your body, you desires is leaving its proof on my clothes"
You nodded, clutching your hands at the end where his legs met his hips, holding onto it as you started rocking your hips to get yourself off,rubbing the clit on him like a desperate dog in heat.
“ Jaise tumhein accha lage, waise hi apni kamar ko hilao. Jaldi ki koi zaroorat nahi, meri jaan”
He talked yet again making your head spin, you tried going faster then slower nothing helped really, it would feel good but the pressure only kept building with no sign of release. You looked at him through the curtain of hair that had fell upon your face, sweat beading down your forehead - he was resting up against the headboard, leisurely watching you lose your mind, and for a moment he looked like a king who had finally claimed his throne. “ haan ahh Hamza”
He shifted slightly in between to provide you some help, your cunt would only pulse more with no end, you whimpered in frustration, aggressively humping the flesh, your face scrunching up but yet he didn't move.
“Mujhse nahi hoga, meri madatat karo Hamza” You gasped in a cry
The rough callousness of his hand felt like heaven right now, finally holding you. Gripping your plump ass he controlled the rhythm, encouraging to bounce on him. Wet smacks of your pussy slapping at his clothed skin went off in the room, unbelievably lewd moans falling out your lips before it went quiet as the pleasure became too much and your body knew it was about to break.
Each bounce hit your clit perfectly, you had burrowed into your neck unable to handle the shame of what you were doing.
“ Yeh haya ka parda ab kisi kaam ka nahi y/n, mai tumhe apne asli maalik ke liye bikharte hue dekhna chata hoon”
He grabbed you by your hair, not yanking but pulling your head back, forcing you to meet his eyes.
Your orgasm crashed through you the second you looked at his face, your pussy clenching, unclenching around nothing
Falling back into the mattress was all your body could think of, but Hamza had other plans he saw it as an opportunity. Holding your trembling, defeated legs open and driving face first into your still recovering cunt.
“ HAMZA” you exclaimed your hips bucking up once before you forced them to scramble back, “ Tumhe khud ko saabit kar diya meri jaan ab meri baari” His tongue ran a broad stroke up your lips. He moaned at your chest, his chest rumbling with satisfaction
“ Mujhe tumhare iss wajood ka ras chakhna hai, is zaiqe ko apne rooh mei utarna hai”
he was determined on drawing on another orgasm from you, gently parting your petal to thrust his tongue. You grabbed his hair pulling him flush into yourself, felt his beard scape at your thighs and taint but that only added to the pleasure.
He explored the spongy part that his tongue could reach, resting your upper wall, torturing it with the back and forth motion. Your head fell back in bliss but your lower body tensed as another tremor ran down your back, your chest glistening with sweat, shining under the lamp light.
The bed creaked lightly and you noticed how Hamza couldn't hold himself back anymore, thrusting into the mattress at the taste of you. The sight washed every reasoning of your head.
“ Ahh Hamza bas aur nahi, mujhe bas tum chaiye”
You pulled his head back, his face plastered with a wide smirk but not for once it made you feel any lesser, any smaller.
He crawled up your body, the obvious size difference didn't frighten you anymore it only enticed you further. With another reassuring kiss to your lips, he pulled back pressing his finger at lips. His thumb pulled down at the softness and you couldn't do anything, as if you couldn't function without his commands,his domination.
“ Chuso” He demanded, his thumb already finding its way into your mouth, pressing down at the tongue feeling the soft bumps of it. You closed your mouth around his finger, coating in it your saliva, he pulled back with a praise now offering two fingers to your mouth. His middle and ring finger , you nodded wrapping your tongue around it, bobbing your head up as he told you to keep them wet.
You laid twisting in anticipation as Hamza tested the limits, measuring up how much you could take and to his satisfaction you greedily sucked both fingers in one go, your eyes flickering closed.
He could have you now, he was certain.
He pulled down the slick fabric, you forced your lidded eyes to stay open and you saw it. It was hard, sticking at his stomach, throbbing as if alive and the girth made you get out of your haze real quick, letting out a choked gasp.
“ Kuch nahi hoga” He coaxed softly, tapping the sensitive bundle of nerves with his broad tip as if that would help anyhow right now.
“ Hamza-” “ Kuch nahi hoga, mai bol raha hoo na”
He positioned himself between your legs with an absoluteness that made you marvel if you ever had a doubt.
He was sure he wasn't going to hurt you, it's just the misconceptions that were flooding your head, that he would tear you just because he is big.
He watched your fleshed out pink insides stretch around his dark cut tip, the tightness made him want to bury himself to the tilt in one go but he restrained greatly, his jaw flexing.
“ Hamza..” You don't know what you meant yourself, Hamza was going to make this the best as he could for you, intertwing your finger with his, his other hand resting softly at your hip to let himself in. He pressed a reverent kiss to your forehead pushing forward an inch.
You yelped, your hands flying to his bicep, “ Kuch nahi hoga” He repeated gently pushing more of himself inside. His handsome face crumbled under the expression of pure pleasure “ Ya allah kitni narm ho tum, kitna kas kar pakad rahi ho”
You burned under the praise, your legs falling open more to accommodate his hips and his cock inside your wetness, you clamped down hard on him.
His hips jerked as he rasped out “ Mujhe itni sakhti se na jakro meri jaan, main hil bhi nahi paa raha.” he massaged your hips waiting till you stretched more, feeding you a few inches at a time.
He finally sheathed himself inside peppering kisses everywhere on your face, the pressure of his thickness flooded your gut, you felt him till your throat, nothing leaving your lips other than helpless sighs “ Uff” it didn't hurt like the gruesome descriptions you had heard before, it was a pleasant kind of pain that layered so strongly with pleasure it became a part of it.
He shifted your legs to his waist, “ Theek hai?” You nodded, wrapping them around your lower back.
Hamza moved gently not pulling out more than two inches before thrusting back into you steadily, more like grinding his hips into yours avoiding his natural instincts for now, all his focus fixed on pleasing you
You pulled him closer, meeting his careful thrust with your clumpy desperate ones. The knot tightened once more in your stomach, and he fulfilled everything without having you ever ask for it, hitting your g spot with the tip each time.
He only sped up to help you reach your climax, his greed descended once he felt you pulse around him, your arousal splashing at his thighs and length. He needed to finish too, so he started pounding into your still fluttering cunt making you wail like a kitten “ Bas hogaya” He shushed, his voice growing horses as he burrowed himself in the tight heat of your gummy walls that wrapped around him like a vice
“ Bas bas, thoda sa aur” He cooed roughly watching the wails turn into cries of overstimulation. " Thoda sa aur, meri jaan, mere liye, kar sakti hoon na?"
Was your body even your anymore? you nodded breaking into his arms as he ripped another peak out of you. Hamza jabbed his dick, his movements turning harsh enough to knock the air out of your lungs for a second there before he pulled out.
His groan was of a lion, most definitely a beast because that sound sounded nowhere near human as he spurts out loads of his release onto your stomach.
The brief roughness was just a promo
You had known Zaviyar 8 months, 8 months of stolen glances, 8 length months of finding your only solace in his arms, and the time you had spent being devoured by him. You knew the risk from the start and maybe you should not have been so disappointed that you have not seen him in a week, shouldn't have felt your heart breaking into pieces when that one week stretched into a month- Zaviyar was gone.
He took everything with him, the little life he had given you, the little hope he had given to your soul that you could have something for yourself without it being a weapon against you, or without it weighing your value and what stinged the most is that you had fallen for him.
You did not know what this sudden departure even meant? Maybe he was hurt but something in your gut told you, it was simple as it could - he just left you. You tried reasoning again, what about his work? How could he have left that behind so easily, well he joined for you in the first place and once the interest had died he found no point in it.
The marks of the last night you spent with him had faded long ago but the feel of him sticked your very bones cruelly, and on days you could still feel his phantom touch inching up your thighs, holding you close to him.
Being fooled in the most obvious way humiliating but what was more humiliating is how your eyes still waited for him, you couldn't banish that flicker of your heart that told you he would be right back at the door.
You watched out the window, to be met with nothing but the dark skies above you and your own face staring back at you from the half visible reflection.
Sanu nehar waley pul tey bulaey key
Sanu nehar waley pul tey bulaey key
Te khorey mahi kithey reh gaya
Sanu nehar waley pul tey bulaey key
Sadi ankhaan wicho needra udha key
Sadi ankhaan wicho needra udha key
Te khorey mahi kithey reh gaya
Sanu nehar waley pul tey bulaey key
a/n- mostly for babe @itsnotmaia hehe, i am sorry if this a little incoherent, trust me the dialgoues dont make sense to me at times as well
contains: smut car sex dirty talk hair pulling spanking reader getting punished
🪼sam’s notes: on popular demand :3 here is the first part to jog everyone’s memory!!
꒰ྀི১ ໒꒱ིྀ
You had been rushed by rehman. No, more like dragged by him to the parkings of the small super market.
Your heartbeat only going faster with each step you took, mind reeling with the possibilities of how the evening would end for you.
You felt a warm ache in your nether regions, the thought of being ravished by your gangster of a husband the driving force of it.
It took you both no time to reach the depths of the dark lot, sealing the two of you in the dim, oil-scented space.
The only light comes from a single dusty bulb above, casting long shadows across the concrete floor.
The red Ford sits like a patient beast, its paint gleaming under that weak glow.
Rehman’s grip on your wrist is iron—he dragged you from the grocery store, past the stunned faces of the cashier, his jaw tight and eyes burning with a fury that made your stomach flutter with equal parts fear and thrill.
He really looked like a predator. A predator, who had been played with his prey a bit too much that now he wishes nothing more than to be on top, dominate, once and for all.
He doesn't speak—not one word—but the tension radiating from him is a living, breathing thing.
He walks like a storm, shoulders squared, his long stride forcing you to almost jog to keep pace, a thin sheen of sweat is dotting his forehead.
He just shoves you toward the car, his hand on the back of your neck, steering you until your body presses against the cold metal of the driver's side door.
The chill seeps through your pink kameez, making you gasp. The fabric is too light, too sheer—he'd picked it out for you last week, liking how the soft cotton clung to your delectable curves.
his calloused vieny hand is immediately on your waist, squeezing the soft flesh possessively through your pink salwar kameez. The fabric bunches under his fingers, getting caught in the silver of his kada.
“Bohot hoshiyar samajhte ho khud ko, hmm?” His voice is a low growl, gravelly with the strain of holding back.
His other hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up. In the half-light, you see the dark heat in his eyes, the vein pulsing in his temple.
“Feeding me those chocolates. Teasing me in the aisles. Acting innocent while I had to stand there in public like a horny bastard”
Rehman’s body presses flush against your back, pinning you against the car.
You feel every inch of him—the solid wall of his chest and soft stomach heaving against your shoulder blades, and his angry hard on pressing demandingly against your belly.
You try to smirk, playing it off. You loved making your old man loose control.
Rehman acts all high and mighty infront of his men and colleagues but only you know how he wakes in the middle of the night, groaning about his joints begging you to massage them. Or how he naps so adorably mid day after lunch like a baby.
You had taken his decision to show his vulnerability around you for a pass to be as bratty and spoiled you were with your father. Who never punished you since you were his darling little girl.
You forget, Rehman is not like your father. He is a kind and loving husband but also a man who dislikes being played with.
His hands slide around your waist, bunching the loose fabric of your kameez in his fists. He yanks it upward, exposing the thin cotton of your salwar underneath, then yanks that down too along with your cotton panties, his fingers hooking under the waistband and dragging the wet fabric down your thighs.
You're bare beneath, your ass bared to the dim light. A whimper catches in your throat as the cool air hits your swollen, sensitive flesh.
He spins you around so that your back now presses against his lithe frame, he ruts against the cleft of your ass, using you like his rutting pillow.
“Is this how you meant for this to go, meri jaan?” he murmured, his voice low, almost possessive.
“Reh—“
Your breath catches in your throat as his palm leaves your jaw and cracks against your ass , hard.
The sound echoes in the garage, a sharp thwack that sends a shockwave through your body. You gasp, lurching forward, grinding against the cold metal of your car but he holds you steady.
“Ek,” he says, and his voice is almost calm now—the calm before a storm.
“Dukaan mein mujhe jitne bhi lamhe tadpaya tha na, meri jaan?… Ek Ek ka badla lunga tujhse.”
His hand comes down again, harder this time, the sting blooming through the thin cotton of your salwar. Your knees buckle, but his grip on your waist keeps you in place.
He palms your ass, squeezing, kneading, before delivering another slap that jolts your entire body.
“Do.” He kneads the smarting cheek, his fingers digging into the curve. “Har uss nazar ke liye, meri jaan… jab tum mujhe dekh kar aise anjaan ban rahi thi jaise tumhe pata hi nahi tha tum mere saath kya kar rahi ho.”
Rehman reaches for the car door, pulling it open. Inside, the Ford's interior is dark, plush, smelling of leather and his cologne and months of his presence.
He pushes you inside, bending you over the back seat, so your palms land on the soft upholstery, your ass jutting out toward him.
The position is lascivious, utterly shameless, with your kameez bunched around your waist and your salwar pooled around your ankles.
“Maaf kar—” you start apologising, you have never seen him this angry and riled up. Even though it scares you but that feeling is quickly forgetten when your pussy clenches for the latter reason.
The apology is cut off by another spank, continuing till your adorable face is now reduced to tears and lewd eyes begging to be fucked.
“Shh shh.” Rehman leans over you shushing you as he wipes your pretty tears away, his eyes now a tad bit softer seeing his little wife in tears, hiccuping in an oh so lovely manner. He quickly schools his expression beforw his mouth is back at your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
“Tu khelna chahti thi, meri jaan? Ab to Tujhe khelna padega.”
(Imagine those hands 🤤🤤🤤)
His hand tangles in your hair—long, dark strands that you’d taken such care to style this morning.
He yanks, pulling your head back, and you feel the strain in your scalp, the sharp, exquisite pain that makes your cunt clench.
He forces you up , manhandling you like his pretty little doll as he turns you around, and pushes you into the car.
You fall back onto the seat with a small “oof”, legs dangling out the door, your kameez riding up to your waist.
"Waise hi raho ," he orders.
You hear him as he unknots the drawstrings of his salwar. The car dips with his weight as he climbs in above you, the door closing with a heavy thunk.
His hands find your hips, and then the thick, scorching head of his cock is pressing against you, sliding through your folds, teasing your entrance.
You're dripping for him. The arousal has been building since the store, every stolen glance, every brush of his thigh against your hand. Your body opens for him like a flower to the sun, yielding completely.
"Please," you whimper, grinding up against him. He smirks, your plan had failed. It was now you, who was writhing beneath him like a lamb. He would have savoured the victory longer but those intimacy chocolates were truly powerful.
He kept humping your soft body for relief. He would have carried out the torture longer if he was not on the verge of cumming in his pants.
"Kya chahiye tujhe…bata mujhe"
"Aap. I want you. Please, Rehman, mujhe sirf —"
The word "please" is still a breath on your lips when he lips slams into yours impatiently as he gripes your curves.
Rehman doesn’t remove his kurta. He doesn’t need to. He shoves his salwar down just enough to free his cock, thick, vieny and impossibly hard, the head already wet with pre-cum.
He looms over you, one hand still fisted in your hair, the other gripping the base of his shaft.
“Look at me,” he commands. His eyes bore into yours as he strokes himself once, twice, smearing the moisture. “Dekh rahi ho?, ye tumhara kiya karaya hai. So now you are going to take every inch. And you’re going to thank me for it.”
He spits on his cock, rubbing it in, then positions himself at your entrance.
You’re already wet—humiliatingly, your pussy aching from the teasing in the store, from the spanking, from the sheer dominance in his every move, he is so mean that you can’t help but lift your hips to meet his length.
He shoves it in wothout preamble, ramming his full length into you in one brutal thrust.
A scream tears from your throat—a mix of pain and pleasure that echoes in the metal cavern of the car. He’s so deep, so thick, stretching you open, filling every inch of you. Your back arches off the seat, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the upholstery.
“Yes,” he hisses, pulling out almost all the way before driving back in. “That’s it. Take it.”
He fucks you like that, hard and fast, the car rocking on its suspension. His hand in your hair keeps your head pinned, your neck exposed. He takes no time in biting and kissing your delicate column.
“Tum Sirf meri ho,” he grunts, his rhythm faltering as he nears the edge.
But he doesn’t want to finish yet. No. He pulls out, ignoring your whimper at the emptiness.
He flips you over like a ragdoll, shoving your face down into the seat, pulling your hips up. Your knees dig into the cheap fabric.
you feel rehman climb over you, his chest pressing down on your back, his legs straddling yours, pinning you flat.
He reaches under, finds your cunt again, and rams in from above. The angle is deeper, if that’s possible. You feel him in your gut, against your cervix. He wraps one arm around your throat, not choking, just holding you in place, and the other arm goes under your hips to lift you slightly, giving him full access.
He fucks you slowly now, deliberately, each stroke a long, grinding drag that makes your toes curl. His lips are at your ear, his words a low, continuous stream of filth.
“You like this, don’t you? Being used like a whore in the back of my car. Koi bhi dekh lega hmm?”
You can’t form words. All that comes out is a high-pitched moan, muffled by the seat. He speeds up again, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. The sound is wet and obscene, mixing with your gasps and the creak of the suspension.
He releases your throat, instead grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head, stretching your body taut beneath him. He fucks you like he's trying to brand you, to mark you from the inside. The sound of his hips slapping against your thighs fills the car , bouncing off the metallic walls.
The chocolates doing their work.
"Tum Kabhi waisa wapis nahi karogi," he grunts, sweat beading on his brow, dripping onto your chest. "Never. Kabhi nahi. I should tie you to the bed for a week for this—"
"Would you—?" you croak out with whatever fire was left in you. Your vision was blurry as your eyes rolled back, drool staining your skin as you accepted Rehman’s delicious assault.
He stops mid-thrust, buried inside you, and stares down at you for a long, loaded moment. Then he starts moving again—faster, and angrier, but the corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk.
“Mat uksao mujhe, meri jaan.” he warns, but the softness in his voice gives him away.
Rehman’s thrusts become frantic, losing their rhythm. His grip on your wrists tightens, his body tense, his face contorted in pleasure.
"I'm coming," he grits out. "I'm going to come inside you, and many more times… whatever you put in that chocolate made me want to fuck you for weeks.”
"Please—please, Rehman—please, I want it—I want all of it—"
He roars like the sher he is, slamming into you one final time, grinding his hips against yours, and you feel it—the hot, thick torrent of his release flooding your insides, coating your walls.
You shatter, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm rips through you, your walls convulsing violently around him, your entire body shaking and shuddering. He doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, driving into you relentlessly, chasing his own release.
He collapses onto you, his weight a familiar, welcome blanket of heat.
His face buries in the crook of your neck, breath hot and ragged against your skin. His softening cock remains inside you, holding his seed within. The car is quiet now, save for your raspy breathing and overstimulated whimpers.
“Abhi toh bohot kuch baaki hai, meri jaan. I’m nowhere near done.” His voice is strained as his dick hardens again, the effects of the chocolate not yet diminished “We’re going to be here until I’ve drained every drop of brattiness out of you.”
Rehman pulls out in no time and starts over. The sky outside the parking lot darkens. Hours pass with your voice goes hoarse with screaming his name.
Both of you do not notice that yours is the only car in the parking lot. Another win for the deaf who couldn’t hear the noises of sin from your vehicle.
By the time he’s finally spent, your legs are numb, your ass is raw, and your clothes are crumpled, a stained rag on the floor of the car. He collapses beside you breathing hard, a tangle of limbs on the back seat.
He pulls you into his chest, his hand stroking your hair—gentler now. He kisses your forehead.
“Tum abhi bhi meri bigdi hui si biwi ho”he murmurs reverently, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before instantly falling asleep with his body caging you.
You do not fight his weight, nuzzling into his chest, tufts of his chest hair grazing your face through the unbuttoned buttons of his kurta.
His grip tightens against you , thoughts of how the both of you were going to go home, and what uzair was going to eat for dinner since the servants had a leave not even a thought.
His spoiled, plaintive jaan, tucked against his chest, consuming his thoughts, his attention, his very being.
summary: his wife thinks they are the same person in different font. uzair strongly disagrees, until he doesn’t.
word count: 3.9k words
author’s note: hellooooo my lovelies ♥️💋!!!! as much as I love writing bhondu!Uzair who worships the ground his girlie walks on 🙆🏻♀️✨, I think this sucks ass 😭😭 (I swear this is not me fishing for compliments 🙂↕️🙂↔️) I will try to wrap this up in two more parts, but who am I without my ever increasing list of ongoing series 🧑🏻🩰🙂↔️🤫.
Uzair was practically vibrating with unbridled excitement, usually reserved for a child on the morning of Eid. Every fiber of his being was itching to get home.
Previously, the sprawling Haveli had functioned as little more than a glorified pit stop to crash for a few hours of sleep.
Except previously, he didn't have her waiting at home for him.
The thought of his wife summoned a huge grin. He could already hear her delighted squeal of joy at seeing him, envisioning how she would throw herself into his arms, how he would wrap his hands around her waist, spin her until she was dizzy, and pepper her face with kisses.
Uzair had asked Hamza and Rehman Bhai to not tell anyone that they were returning from Balochistan early, so he could surprise Y/N. Hamza had taken one look at his best friend's besotted expression, rolled his eyes at the classic simp behavior, and was mid-groan before he realised he could also surprise Yalina, considering that just last night he had been scolded to Lyari and back, and deservedly so.
Uzair had overheard her fuming voice coming out of the phone speaker, highly irritated as she said, "Tum Uzair ko hi kyu nahi date kar lete? Mujhse zyada toh uske sath rehte ho!" making Hamza hurriedly apologise while assuring his girlfriend that he would be back in a day or two.
Uzair couldn't even bring himself to blame him, because even Y/N always rolled her eyes and said, "Mujhe nahi pata tha ki shuhar ke sath ek sautan combo offer mien milne wali hai."
Rehman had simply tusked at the boys' antics, though everyone and their mother knew he was equally scared of Ulfat, if not more. Rehman had admitted to the boys that he had already informed Ulfat they would come back a day earlier, but promised he would ask her not to tell the girls.
The moment they arrived, Uzair quickened his steps as he climbed up the wide stairs, abandonding all pretenses of composure. The air in the corridor seemed to carry a faint whiff of her lavender-scented perfume, or maybe he was genuinely just that whipped.
Uzair rounded the corner to his room, but the heavy wooden door was locked from the inside. This was not weird, given that Y/N had an ingrained habit of keeping the door locked since she was a kid, something something about single children and their urge to not socialise, paired with a fiercely territorial stance over their space. As much as he hated this quirk of hers, he had long since come to adjust.
What was weird, however, was that she seemed to be cooing at someone on the other side.
"Y/N?" he called out, his brow furrowing as he tried the heavy brass door handle again.
Right then, total silence descended upon the room, immediately followed by some shifting, hurried scuffling footsteps, and the metallic sound of the latch being undone, and wait, was that a cat going meow?
Uzair's ears perked up and his eyes narrowed into slits just as his pretty wife opened the door. Y/N's eyes widened with pure panic for a split second before she hurriedly schooled her expressions into a smile and threw her arms around his neck. His arms circled her waist on their own accord, drawing her closer.
Uzair peaked into the room over her shoulder, but the space was completely empty. There was no one inside.
"Tum toh kall anne wale the na?" she said against the crook of his neck, before she pulled back and pecked him on the lips.
That quick greeting spiralled into a proper kiss as he pulled her even closer, his hands roaming up and down her back while hers tangled tightly in the hair on the nape of his neck. Uzair moaned low in his throat, deepening the kiss as their tongues clashed together in a needy rhythm. He had missed her so desperately that he did not care if someone stumbled upon them making out like two horny teenagers in the hallway, not that the inhabitants of the Haveli would be remotely surprised at their shameless antics anyway.
"Meow!"
Uzair and Y/N both froze. Uzair broke the kiss and pulled away, scanning the space in disbelief.
"Yeh awaz kaha se aai?!" Uzair asked, looking around.
Y/N looked around the empty corridor and said as nonchalantly as possible, "Konsi awaz?"
"Billi ki awaz!" Uzair pointed toward the doorway.
"Kan baj rahe hai tumhare. Tum bohot thakk gye hoge na? Chalo, tumhe sharbat pilati hu!" Y/N insisted, grabbing his arm and trying to drag him downstairs.
But right on cue, there was another distinct meow echoing from inside, making her visibly wince. Ignoring her, Uzair hurried into his room and looked around.
"Dekha! Phir awaz aai!"
"Oh voh? Voh toh main thi. Meowww." she offered, adding the least convincing feline impression in human history.
"Lekin—" Uzair started, totally baffled.
"Chodho na! Chalo neeche chalte hai." She closed the distance between them, coming closer to cup his cheeks lovingly with both hands. "Kitna thak gye hoge na tum? Bhabhi ne tumhare aur Rehman Bhai ki pasand ki cheeze banai hai! Chalo chalo!"
She placed her arm through his and tried to drag him away, but Uzair didn't budge an inch, standing firm like a brick wall. Y/N turned around and gave him an exasperated look as she huffed. When Uzair continued staring down at her with one raised brow, she finally asked, "Kya?"
Something was definitely up.
Y/N was simply not the type of person to be all over someone out of nowhere. He knew his wife loved him more than anything in the world, but he also knew that his wife hated people crowding up her personal space, so in turn she kept strictly to herself.
The only exception to the rule being Uzair.
Even her mother always said that she would get annoyed she so much as patted her head, and her father always mentioned how Y/N would glare daggers at anyone who tried to hug her.
Yet with Uzair, it was a completely separate story. He always clung to her like a grade-A clingy koala, and just like he put up with her treating their bedroom like a fortified barrack, she put up with him following her around everywhere like her personal shadow.
"Kya kiya tumne?"
"Ya allah! Kya zamana agya hai! Ek toh main apne thake-haare shauhar ki khidmat kar rahi hu aur upar se tum bol rahe ho kya kiya maine?!" Y/N cried out dramatically, placing her hands on her hips with feigned indignation.
"Meow!"
Both of them whipped towards the cabinet near the full length mirror in perfect sync. Y/N facepalmed in defeat, while Uzair moved towards the cabinet and yanked it open.
Among his shoes sat a small tabby Egyptian Mau kitten, its sleek silver-gray coat striking against dark, ink-black stripes, a pale cream chest, and a cute pink nose. The little creature sat gracefully, staring right up at him with wide, inquisitive golden-brown eyes and twitching its velvety pointed ears.
Y/N clapped a hand over her mouth, "Oh wow, a cat!"
The cat trotted out and ran straight towards his wife, making Uzair stumble back in shock, "Yeh kya hai?!"
The tiny cat nuzzled her leg affectionately as she casually picked it up like it was an everyday occurrence, cradling it in her arms.
"Hena? Kya hai ye Uzair? Kitni bar bola hai apne joote dhang se rakha karo. Lekin tum suno tab na."
"Meow!"
The cat meowed at Uzair, as if reprimanding him alongside her.
Uzair pointed an accusing finger at the tiny furball cradled in his wife's arms, "Mere joote nahi! Ye kya hai?"
Y/N rolled her eyes with the affectionate condescension reserved for small children and dramatic spouses.
"Tumhe chasma lagne wala hai. Dikhai nahi de raha..." she drawled before extending her arms, holding out the kitten towards him in full display, like Rafiki presenting baby Simba to the awestruck animal kingdom on the Pride Rock. "...it's a cat."
Right on cue, the little tabby let out a high-pitched "Meow!" as if confirming its own species just in case Uzair needed a second opinion.
"What is it doing in our room?"
Y/N scrunched up her nose in that irresistible way that Uzair normally would have found immensely cute, if he wasn't petrified of the tiny menace.
When Uzair had been four years old, he had been flying a kite on the terrace until a sudden gust of wind snapped the poorly tied knot. The kite had drifted down into the central veranda of his parent's house, and when the young boy trotted downstairs to retrieve the kite, he found a large orange street cat aggressively trying to drag it away. Little Uzair had attempted to chase the creature off, only for the angry feline to lung forward and viciously bite his small hand.
He could vividly remember how he had cried his lungs out until his terrified mother heard the frantic wails and rushed into the courtyard to rescue her baby. Uzair could also still recall the agony of receiving painful post-exposure injections.
Now, Uzair was no longer four years old. He was a hulking, thirty-four year old man. Yet, he stayed as far away from cats as humanly possible.
The man who could brazenly face down rival armed gangs and ruled over the gritty streets of Lyari alongside his elder brother was deadly afraid of these soft, four legged felines.
But Y/N loved cats, much to his chagrin.
"Why are you talking like he is some runaway fugitive?" Y/N huffed, bringing the cat close to her face and tenderly nuzzling her nose against its fur while the kitten purred, "He is just a baby."
The kitten let out another dainty "Meow!" as if agreeing that it was, in fact, an innocent angel.
Uzair stood there glaring, vehemently trying to convince himself that he was definitely not jealous of a cat getting his wife's undivided affection.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up.
"And he is just like you. He has pretty brown eyes. He is tall, lanky—"
"I'm not lanky!"
"—and he loves to yap nonstop."
She turned back to her husband with a triumphant smile, while Uzair looked at her in utter disbelief.
"You did not just compare me to a cat!" he spluttered.
Y/N grinned, totally unrepentant as she cradled the kitten against her shoulder like a prized newborn, "You both are the same person in different font! Main toh soch rahi hu iska naam bhi Uzi hi rakhdu."
Uzair shifted his gaze back and forth between his wife's blooming smile and the intruder, who was currently busy purring away in her arms like he owned the place.
Uzair crossed his arms, "Hum isse yaha nahi rakh sakte. And you're not naming this cat after me."
Y/N didn't even bother looking up at her husband as she bopped the kitten on his tiny pink nose, "Tumse kon puch raha hai."
The kitten backed her up with a confident "Meow!"
"Kyuki yeh mera kamra—" Y/N snapped her eyes to his, glaring daggers at her husband with enough force to freeze a bonfire.
Uzair cleared his throat, swiftly correcting his sentence, "—hamara kamra hai. Par tumhe pata hai na, mujhe billiyon se allergy hai!"
Y/N let out a sigh, looking utterly done as she adjusted the kitten in her arms.
"Allergy wallery kuch nahi hai. Bus tumhe darr lagta hai. Itne saalo pehle ek billi ne tumhe galati se kaat kya liya—"
Uzair gasped dramatically, clutching his hand to his chest as if she had insulted his entire bloodline, "Galati se? Mere 4 injection lagge the!"
Y/N tossed her head back in annoyance, "Toh? Itni purani baat hai. Kab takk rotte rahoge uss cheez ko lekar."
"Jaan...baat ko samjho—" Uzair began to plead but he cast one glance at the pout forming on her mouth and he knew that he had lost the argument before it had even truly begun.
"Dekho na bichare ke pair mien lag gyi hai." Y/N gingerly held up the kitten's left front paw, which was neatly wrapped in a surgical bandage. Uzair's was only just noticing that the small creature was actually injured. "Bahar baramde ki left side jo jali lagi hui hai, usme bichare ka pair fass gaya tha. Shayad kuch kutte iske peeche pad gye the." She stroked the cat's head with tenderness, and the kitten happily closed its golden-brown eyes in contentment, its striped tail wiggling lazily from side to side in her arms.
Oh, Uzair was definitely jealous of a stray cat.
Because it should have been his head resting in her lap right now, her soft fingers gently running through his hair while he told her every single detail of his gruelling trip to Balochistan. Instead, a random, trespassing rat-catcher was usurping his rightful place.
"Yeh toh kissi ko apne pass bhi nahi anne de raha tha. Poor baby kept hissing at everyone because he was scared. Main 2 ghante waha baithi rahi. Kabhi dudh le kar ayi toh kabhi khana. Phir jakar ye todha shant hua and he let me help him. Abb iss halat mien bichare ko nikal du bahar? Gali ke kutte toh isse noch khayege."
Uzair let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at her. Leave it to this woman to see something worth saving even in wild, prickly beings that kept the rest of the world at arm's length, possessing a magnetic quality to make even the fiercest beings soften just for her.
Maybe Y/N was right after all.
Still, the memory of the orange cat that had bitten him all those years ago flared up, making his hand throb with imaginary pain.
He tried once more to convince his wife, who, beneath her sweet exterior, could be stubbornly steadfast whenever she set her mind to something.
"Tum isse apni Ammi ke pass kyu nahi chodh aati. Vo keh rahi thi na, ki hamare nikah ke baad se ghar bohot suna hogye hai." Uzair tried to keep his face neutral, doing his best not to show how much he hoped this tactic would work. He wanted his wife, his bed, and his room strictly to himself, devoid of any unwanted, furry additions stealing her attention.
Y/N waved him off with a dismissive flick of her wrist, "Arey Ammi toh baat baat par emotional ho jati hai. Aur maine pehle Ammi ko hi call kiya tha! Unhone ne bola, 'Maine tujhe paal liya bohot badi baat hai!' She told me right away that she can't deal with anymore responsibilities at this age. Vaise bhi, aaj kall Ammi aur Abbu ghumne phirne mien busy hai."
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off inside Uzair's head, and he snapped his fingers in excitement, "Yalina ko billiyan pasand hai!"
Y/N saw right through her dear husband's attempts to get rid of the cat.
"Acha?", she countered, "Billiyan toh mujhe bhi pasand hai. Toh hum kyu nahi rakh lete isse?"
"Kyuki—"
"—tumhe billiyon se allergy hai?"
Uzair and Y/N stood there staring each other down while the kitten shifted its fluffy head back and forth between them as if witnessing a thrilling match at Wimbledon.
Uzair knew, with absolute certainty, that there was a 100.1% chance Y/N would have her way in the end, like she always did. After all, only an exceptionally strong and unyielding man could ever hope to say no to her and Uzair maintained zero pretenses of being a strong man when it came to the woman standing in front of him. He needed her love and validation just like he needed air to fill his lungs.
Finally, Y/N broke the silence and suggested with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Aesa hai, test karva lete hai?"
Uzair blinked, "Kiss cheez ka?"
"Ki tumhe billiyon se allergy hai ya nahi."
Uzair was stumped.
If there indeed existed a legitimate medical test for feline allergies, he was going to be exposed for the utter bullshit excuses he had been serving.
"Aesa bhi koi test hotta hai?" he stuttered.
Y/N grinned, laying down her ultimate ultimatum, "Haan! Agar tumhe sachme billiyon se allergy hui, then I'll ask Yalina to keep him till his arm heels. Lekin agar tumhe allergy na hui, toh Uzair Baloch tumhara pata nahi, lekin ye isse kamre mien rahega."
Right on cue, the kitten let out a victorious "Meow!"
Y/N turned to the tabby with a huge smile, stroking its ears. "I think I will call you Mau! It suits you better!"
The kitten chimed in with another happy "Meow!"
Uzair was so going to get rid of this smug little rascal, one way or another.
Uzair was, after all, not allergic to cats.
He and Hamza stood in the sterile corridor of the clinic, staring down at the paper displaying the negative result before slowly raising their eyes in unison to glare at the visibly fearful veterinarian lab technician who had timidly handed over the document.
The only silver lining in this dire situation was that Y/N was not here today. She had, of course, accompanied him to the clinic earlier for the screening, where both of them had undergone testing. During that visit, she had practically cornered the terrified doctor, telling him that if anyone dared to tamper with the results on the orders of a certain notorious gangster in Lyari, it wouldn't be Uzair's wrath they needed to worry about, but hers.
Fortunately for Uzair, Y/N was off to work at her high-end boutique in Karachi that specialised in rare antiques. Since it was the weekend, tourist footfalls and wealthy collectors always seemed to peak in, so she made a point to be present at the store to oversee operations.
This meant he still had a chance to find a way out.
Uzair, like always, turned toward his best friend, "Hamze, abb main kya karu?"
"Apna kamra badal le?"
Uzair gave him an unamused glare. Realising his friend was one minor inconvenience away from an existential crisis, Hamza finally took some pity on him, "Ruk, kuch sochta hu!"
Hamza stared intently at the ceiling, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, until his eyes suddenly snapped wide open and he declared, "Ek idea hai!"
Yalina looked at the two towering men standing in front of her, arms crossed tightly over her clinical coat as she scoffed, "What made you both think that I'll agree to this?"
Since Yalina was an MBBS student currently completing her internship at the bustling Lyari General Hospital, the duo had convinced themselves that between her medical software access, connections, and her sheer cleverness, she could easily photoshop the test results to reflect a severe allergy to cats.
Uzair and Hamza had sprinted straight from the vet lab to the hospital, cornering her in the cramped, sterile staff room right in the middle of her brief coffee break.
Hamza took one look at how thoroughly stunned and deeply annoyed Yalina was by the absurd idea and instantly stepped back, "For the record, I'm not a part of this scheme."
Uzair whipped his head toward his best friend, his eyes bulging with incredulity as he snapped, "Oh dramebaaz insaan, 'not a part of this scheme' matlab? Tu hi toh yaha lekar aya hai. Ki, 'Yalina bohot samajhdar hai, vo koi hal nikal legi!'"
Hamza pointed an accusing finger at Uzair, "Main laya? Tu laya!" he yelled back, before turning to his girlfriend, who looked done with both of them by the second, "Ye harami hi bol raha tha ki Yalina toh doctor hai na, she might know how to create false test results!"
Uzair's eyes widened to the size of saucers, "Maine aesa kuch nahi bola! Sale chutiye biwi se darte hai, toh mere par bill phadh raha hai! Ye tera idea tha!"
"Aur tu biwi se darta hai isiliye Y/N ko sidha nahi bol pa raha ki nahi rakhna bille ko ghar pe toh matlab nahi rakhna."
Uzair slumped his shoulders, grumbling beneath his breath with dramatic resignation, "Agar maine usse ye bol diya toh mujhe hi Haveli chodhni padh jayegi."
Yalina was exhausted by the spectacle unfolding before her, "Ek second! Tum dono miya biwi bahar jakar lado! Ye hospital hai, koi zoo nahi. And you both might be unfamiliar with the concept of ethics, par main aese aere-gaire kaam nahi karti. I'm not going to photoshop the results. Main Y/N Appi ko toh bilkul bhi jhoot nahi bolugi! I'm out of this. Apko sharam anni chahiye apni biwi se jhoot bolte hu!"
Hamza took a step closer, fearing Yalina's wrath, "Yalina, I would never do this to yo—" he began earnestly, only for Uzair to yank him backward by his collar with a huff.
"Tu apne number baad mien banana!" Uzair cut in dryly, before turning back to Yalina with desperation in his eyes, "Yalina meri majboori samjho!"
Yalina rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful, "Aapki majboori hi itni wahiyad hai!"
Uzair folded his hands together, "Please, if you agree to do this, I'll do anything. Agar kall ko Jamali tum dono ke nikaah se mana kar de, toh main tumhara walid banke maulvi ke pass chala jaugi."
Yalina looked him up and down with an unimpressed expression, her brow arching high, "I have standards. Aur hamare nikaah ki aap tension matt lo. Agar abbu nahi maane, toh hum bhagke shaadi kar lenge."
Hamza beamed at this but Uzair was far too consumed by his impending doom to care about his best friend's matrimonial prospects.
Thinking at lighting speed, Uzair remembered the ultimate trump card in his possession. He clapped a hand onto Hamza's shoulder, patting his back with exaggerated generosity, "Hamze ke janamdin anne wala hai na? Ja, tujhe 3 din ki chooti! Aish kar. Tum dono aaram se ek saath waqt guzarna. Now please, change these test result."
Yalina paused, her eyes narrowing as she silently contemplated this enticing new bribe. As much as she loathed the idea of deceiving Y/N, who had truly come to be like a cool, protective elder sister to her, she simply could not pass up the golden opportunity to spend some uninterrupted time with her workaholic boyfriend.
Besides, she mused that she could always spill the truth to Y/N later anyway, which she fully intended to do right after Hamza's birthday.
“Ek hafta.”
Uzair blinked, his jaw dropping in shock, "Ye kaam karne mien ek hafta lagega?"
"Kaam ko nahi! Aap Hamza ko ek hafte ki choothi denge."
Uzair gasped, "Ek hafta?"
Yalina deadpanned, "Apko apna kaam karvana hai ya nahi?"
"Done." Uzair blurted out, yielding with the exact same readiness as the day Y/N's father had first proposed their match.
Hamza jumped in, his eyes wide with panic, "Ooooo kya done? Rehman bhai ko—"
Uzair hurriedly cut him off, "Main sambhal lunga. Tu apne janamdin ki tyari kar!" He thrust the paper toward her like a white flag, "Ye lo."
Yalina looked between the two ridiculous men, letting out a long suffering sigh as she grabbed the report.
"15 minute wait karo. Aur agar Appi ko pata chala, then I'm throwing you both under the bus."
*meme timeeeee 🧑🏻🩰🤺*
uzair and hamza at the hospital:
meanwhile yalina:
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(Please send a DM or an ask if you would like to be removed from the taglist! Ik a lot of people have left the fandom, so please drop by if you don't want to be tagged anymore 🫶🏻.)
A/N:- There is a very famous bengali idiom, "jabanika patan" which translates to the curtain fall moment or the drop scene. So, yeah- this is the fic's curtain fall moment. I wanted to include the entire thing at one go but it became too big so a little bit is left for the next chapter, for the mystery to solve at least. You guys have a little assignment for this update, count the number of times, Shauryaman says 'fuck'. Also I have decided if this update gets more likes than 40 and more comments than 150 at least, I will give you three chapters filled with smut instead of one. ;)
Warning: mentions of rape, pedophilia, murder and graphic details of injuries and violence
Word Count : 20.7k+
Masterlist
Chapter IV
Because I'm the devil who's searching for redemption
And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption
And I'm a killer who's searching for redemption
A motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption
Ten Years Ago
Shauryaman stared at himself in the mirror.
The bathroom lights were merciless, stark and piercing, throwing the aftermath of the previous hazed hours in sharp contrast.
There was an impressive bruise alongside the skin of his right eye, tapering down to his cheekbone that had already started changing colors from a mottled black to splotches of green and an ugly straw.
His vision was still slightly wonky.
But that could be a result of the alcohol he had forced down his throat than the shiner on his face.
His lower lip had split skin from the bejewelled ring smashed against it and he could still feel the slight swell and the throbbing pain in his teeth. He clutched the edges of the stone embedded sink with his trembling hands and ruthlessly pushed the violent urge to throw up.
The bitter aftertaste of cum was like poison on his palette.
Shauryaman swung open the cabinet drawer and nicked a painkiller and popped it down with a swig of the clear vodka that was remaining in the glass tumbler kept beside.
He probably shouldn’t have mixed alcohol with drugs but his entire body was aching with a furious vengeance that threatened to drown him.
And perhaps a hallucinogen will take his mind off the white hot agony pulsating between his legs. He looked down and saw the mess of blood soaked tissues he had deposited inside the trashcan. Still there remained an impressive splatter of ruby drops on the white marble flooring, making it look like a macabre canvas of a Jackson Pollock.
He probably needed an antiseptic.
Dr. Galvankar will write him a prescription.
The man took the bucks and kept his mouth shut. Though sometimes he could spot the accumulating pity in the older physician’s eyes when he would tumble through his doors, once in a while.
Shauryaman resisted the urge to smash his fist into the man’s face out of foresight, if not anything else— even if the pity hurt him more than the monster fucking him to near death ever could.
Poor pathetic Shauryaman Gaur. Useless, stupid, playboy who can only throw around daddy’s money. Oh he tried becoming a lawyer, this one, do you know? Got kicked out from there as well. Pitiful isn’t he?
He gritted his teeth and pulled up the trousers swallowing the whimper of pain as the fabric settled harsh on his abused skin. Then followed it up with his shirt and jacket, hiding the finger shaped bruises and teeth indentations that had marked his tanned skin like a tattoo.
A brand like those African slave traders used to burn into the skin of their pet humans as they dragged them around the earth like their very own plebian possessions.
Shauryaman closed the door of the bathroom gently and slinked out of the room, throwing furtive glances at the snoring man on the bed. He tiptoed around the empty corridor, feeling like a cat burglar and almost jumped out of his skin on seeing the silhouette of the woman standing at the foot of the staircase.
He took his time, going down the stairs, holding the railing for support and mincing the noises of pain that kept hammering inside him with practiced fervor.
Leena Sahani gasped when she could finally see him in the dim lights of the pool area casting a blue-green sheen over everything in the otherwise pitch black living room.
“Oh good, you are back. At least he will let me be at peace for a few weeks”, Shauryaman said icily.
Leena had her hands pressed to her own mouth, eyes crushed close. She barely reacted to the twisted words spoken but he could see the tears sliding down her pallid face.
Shauryaman rifled through his hollowed out insides to find any shred of sympathy that might have survived the cruel irony his life had always been, and came up sickeningly empty.
“Shaurya..”, the woman whispered but he cut across her wavering words tonelessly.
“There is blood on the bathroom floor, I tried cleaning it as best I could. Don’t slip and fall—”
Leena Sahani couldn’t suppress the sob clogging her throat and Shauryaman left the frail woman standing on the steps, gingerly making his way outside the hellscape and welcomed the cool air of the night caressing his heated face.
The Mumbai breeze was perhaps the only tender contact left in his life.
Shauryaman had managed to climb inside his car with much difficulty and was wondering the merits of wrapping the thing around a pole, if only excused under the influence of the chemical madness travelling down his veins when his mobile rang startling him badly.
He didn’t check the number and put it to his ear, irritated.
“Whatever the fuck you want, I don’t give a fuck”, he snarled and would’ve cut the call had the person on the line not spoken immediately, almost overlapping with his own words.
“They are not letting me see her.. Please..”, the voice sounded stuttered, weak— the kind of illegible faintness associated with age and grief in an invariable tangle.
“Who..what? Who are you and where did you get this number?”, he asked sharply. The fog descended from the drugs and the booze was settling heavy and comfortable on him.
Yet there was a distinct note of awareness that refused to let him fly away into the world of happy delusion.
At least for a few hours, be it.
“I..I..you are her lawyer aren’t you? The card was there in her bag. I—”
It was like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown on his face and he straightened immediately like a bowstring drawn tight, despite the sharp pain igniting in his lower back at the careless movement.
“Who are you speaking about? What happened? Whom are they not letting you see?”, he shot rapidly while turning the key in the ignition.
The other side of the line crackled once and twice, the static reminiscent of very old mobile phones or could even be a landline. But if Shauryaman’s instincts were correct, it was most probably a payphone.
His heart was hammering like thunder striking and bouncing off an indestructible trampoline.
“I am Kumud’s grandmother. Your name was there on the card…so. The police aren’t letting me even see her. It has been three days. What should I do?”
Shauryaman cursed in the most colorful language he could, completely forgetting about the old woman sobbing on the line and turned the wheel of his car so hard, he almost took off the bender at the gates of the mansion.
Oh no.. oh no no no.. they can’t.
He should have known..he should’ve..
He was too busy drinking himself to death.
They fucking can’t— the evidence.
All the evidence..oh god.
____________________________________
Present Time
Meenakshi was blinded by the flash of the cameras as the reporters almost fell over themselves trying to get close to her husband.
They were walking down the steps of the courtroom while Shauryaman looked strangely detached from his surroundings.
There was no trace of triumph on his face, or lines of guilt, or even the ever familiar softening of relief.
It was worse than trying to read a sphinx.
Earlier in the courtroom he had made a beeline towards her but had been intercepted by Inspector Gokhale. The man had looked visibly angered at having to let his golden goose go.
“Don’t think we are done yet, Mr. Gaur. One of these days, I will catch you and then no amount of dilly-dallying in court would save you”, the taller man had said between gritted teeth while he had signed the release papers.
Shauryaman had given him his infamous rage provoking lopsided smile and patted Dattarao’s collars with the dismissive rudeness of an entitled child.
“Gokhale ji, if you had put even one ounce of this inexplicable passion to prove me a villain into the effort of catching the actual perpetrator then today, Soma Mittal would have gotten her justice.”
Gokhale had growled, barely managing to stop himself from strangling the other man.
Shauryaman had only shaken his head in mock sympathy.
“Alas.. you and the prosecution bit into me like a couple of dimwitted terriers keen on shaking imaginary clues loose and ended up wasting everyone including the court’s valuable time.”
Meenakshi had intercepted them before the inspector could pummel her husband into the floor.
God, the man should come with a warning label of his own.
“Inspector Gokhale, thank you for your stellar service. Please be assured to appraise me on the situation of my husband’s attacker that you all had fished out off the premises today. I will be in touch with your superior”, Meenakshi had said, pulling Shauryaman by his elbow, putting him out of the fuming police chief’s range.
She had specifically mentioned the superior for the exact bitter reaction Gokhale was giving her. It was a roundabout threat made in the most polite way possible.
Meenakshi hadn’t forgotten about the murder attempt.
No, sir.
She could still feel the lingering aftershocks of the pure unadulterated terror that had gripped her when she had heard the shot and then watched her husband go down like a marionette with its strings severed.
It was harrowing, those few seconds till he had leaped up and ran inside the courtroom. For that miniscule moment stretched into an immeasurable time Meenakshi had forgotten about everything— the case, the doubts, the exhaustion and confusion.
It was like being dunked under water and ice crystallising in her lungs.
She hadn’t been able to breathe till she had felt his heart beat against her face in the life affirming vibrancy through his chest and the fabric of his red henley.
Shauryaman had tugged her beside him and had somehow managed to expertly put himself like a physical barrier between her and the cameras as they walked towards their car. It had appeared intentional and she could sense the warmth of his fingers curled around her own.
Fingers that had caressed her hair when he had thought she had been sleeping.
Fingers that may have curled around a set of keys that had jabbed into the vulnerable throat of an innocent girl.
“Mr. Gaur, did you kill Soma Mittal?”
“You have been kicked off the board of your company. Care to comment?”
“How can you sleep at night knowing you have destroyed an entire family?”
“Mr. Gaur, what do you have to say about the allegations of corruption that have been brought against Gaur Constructions in the land grabbing cases?”
Shauryaman stopped and turned for a moment, angled in a way that kept his wife out of the frame and the mics being shoved at his face. He ignored the rest and stared straight at the reporter who had asked the last question.
The man took a step back almost instinctively.
Meenakshi could concur, the face her husband had on— she had rarely, if ever seen him look so spectacularly icy even if he hadn’t spoken a single word. His eyes were like twin razors, a sudden inexplicable and one-eighty degree shift from the brainless buffoon he portrayed himself to be ninety percent of the time or the lecherous playboy, for the rest ten.
This was the real man.
The man, Meenakshi had gotten little peeks of throughout the one year of their marriage.
It unnerved her.
This severe, almost cunning version of her husband.
“Keertan..right? From Samachaar ?”, he asked, tone utterly blase and the young reporter nodded, looking slightly discomfitted at being identified and unexpectedly singled out like this.
“Tell Nandita to be present in the party tomorrow evening and she might just get all her answers”, he turned to the rest of them, charcoal eyes flashing dangerously, “and you all… talk to my lawyer. After all, Ikka is the messiah of the innocent and wrongly accused, isn’t he?”
Shauryaman finished almost sweetly and grinned like a shark, a predator before a hunt— looking utterly unbothered about the circus happening at his expense before turning around and practically tugging Meenakshi along towards the car.
The reporters kept screaming after him but he paid them no mind, letting their bodyguards swarm them before disappearing into the black Mercedes. He had taken the passenger seat,strangely enough.
Meenakshi took the driver’s seat in turn and they were on the road leaving the ruckus of the courthouse compound and the TV stations and media network and the horde of activists far behind.
It was only then she noticed that Shauryaman hadn’t left her hand. He was still holding onto the fingers of her left hand on his lap. He was leaning back on his seat, finally looking tired.
So that was another mask.
Or twenty.
Who was her husband? Did she even know him?
The questions were merciless and relentlessly circling her mind and she had no definitive answers, neither could she manage to sort all of them properly so that they could be expressed out in the open.
But she had to know.
Even if it topples everything, crashes her world into smithereens and throws her off a cliff, she still has to know— beyond a shadow of doubt. Beyond the theatrics of the court and the games everyone is supposedly playing around them.
“Shauryaman..”, she said and he opened his eyes, the grip on her hand loosening almost as if instinctively.
“Meenakshi I—”
She cut him off.
“I don’t need to know the reason. Frankly, I don’t think I care but..I need to know the truth. Just this one. I have trusted you this far, through all of this, through every scandal and doubt, even through things I personally would never conceive to support and yet for you, I have done it. And I think I deserve the truth”, she said firmly, carefully keeping her eyes on the road and not on his face.
If she had, she would have seen his lips spasm once, his eyes losing that charade of composure and dulling at the edges.
“You deserve so much more”, he whispered instead— again with that raw almost savage honesty that somehow only she could bring out of him. The power was dizzying and yet she felt like he had kept her outside the door.
“Yes”, she answered and felt him flinch and drop her hand and she brought it to the wheel, mourning the loss of his warmth almost immediately.
“Did you kill Soma Mittal? Yes or no.”
She couldn’t see his face, she didn’t want to.
Was she protecting herself or him?
Did it even matter anymore?
A single breath and Meenakshi saw her entire world balanced at the precipice of a single syllable.
“No.”
Meenakshi snapped her head towards him immediately, narrowly avoiding stepping on the gas a little harder out of sheer adrenaline.
Shauryaman was looking at her already. As if letting her read him. She could sense it. The walls were down, completely down, dialed back to leave the real, unfiltered man behind.
His eyes were on her and the gaze was so intense she couldn’t hold it.
Sheer relief had made gravity ten times weighty and Meenakshi could melt into a puddle on her seat. She swallowed the emotion threatening to tear out of her throat and nodded once sharply, then twice and blinked hard enough to give herself a headache.
“So why did you set a false alibi? Where were you at that time? Why were you with her that night— you were sleeping when I came back and then I woke up and you were gone—”
Shit shit shit.
She is rambling. She is being emotional.
So what if that was the night of their wedding anniversary? So what if she had found him barely conscious, almost blue in the face with trauma? So what if he decided to blow some steam with some random girl and the girl died of pufferfish toxin like an idiot?
Meenakshi kept forgetting that their relationship was based on a contract.
It was she who had told him that they would keep separate lives. He owed her nothing. She owed him nothing. It worked. There was no reason to mess up a perfectly functional relationship over trivialities like emotions.
The heart was a fickle mistress anyway.
A cruel cunning evil mistress.
She cannot fall weak like this.
They weren’t supposed to be like this.
Meenakshi almost jumped out of her skin when Shauryaman took her left hand back in his own larger one again. He was rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. A habit she had sensed her husband liked to do to comfort her, or himself maybe— who even knew what went on in that twisted brain of his.
“It is a long story. A very long story and I wish..oh god, Meenakshi you have no idea how much I want to tell you everything— it’s like an angry river slamming against me with its terrifying waves and I can already feel the cracks. But I still do not have all the pieces of the puzzle. Give me a little more time. Just another day, I promise. And then—”
Shauryaman stopped and swallowed hard and brought her hand to his lips and pressed them to the center knuckle so softly it felt like a butterfly’s wing brushing against her skin.
But the contact, as usual, was electric.
She could feel it brand her skin.
Like a soulmark, if those even existed beyond the fairytale castles of a child’s dream.
“And then if you want, we can end the contract. Get a divorce. I won't contest it, I swear”
Meenakshi hadn’t expected the next words and stopped violently in the middle of the road, almost jolting herself over the steering wheel, pressing on the brake in sheer shock. Shauryaman barely managed to stop faceslamming on the dash and gasped— probably at the seat belt cutting into his chest.
The cars behind started honking madly and they were fortunate that none banged into their rear.
“Meenakshi! Watch out..what are you doing?”, he said, wide eyed.
Meenakshi restarted the engine and slammed on the accelerator so hard, Shauryaman was thrown back against his seat with the motion.
There it was again, that bubbling wrath that was drenching her vision in blood.
“Breathe…Meenu breathe”, her inner voice almost always took her father’s tempered tone.
How easily he had said, to break the contract.
After everything she had done for him.
Well, he can go to hell— she doesn’t give a flying fuck. It's not like her life is going to end. He is the one on the sinking ship, no endless supply of money anymore, how long will the trust fund support his lavish lifestyle, she has a company to run.
She doesn’t have time for this nonsense.
“Meenakshi..”
He whispered, almost a tad afraid for the first time since he had been arrested and wasn’t that a charm to know? Jail doesn’t scare Shauryaman Gaur as much as his wife being furious does. In his defense, she had kicked him in the stomach hard enough for the blood to clot.
“Meena—”
“What?”, she snarled, stopping his timid call midway.
“I didn’t mean to upset you..I just—”
“I am not upset. I am fine. Don’t give yourself so much credit.”
Shauryaman seemed to sink back into his seat, appropriately cowed.
There was an awkward silence in the car for some minutes. Then Shauryaman turned towards her, looking subdued. He had been fiddling with his phone for the past five minutes.
“Did..papa call you?”, he asked quietly.
Meenakshi frowned.
“I don’t think so..no”, she replied, trying to remember the last time she had spoken with Harshvardhan. Maybe that disastrous boardroom debacle the day they kicked the Gaur heir off the table, so to speak.
He hadn’t talked to her but she had caught him throwing her furtive, almost anxious glances.
“Oh..okay”, there was a strange defeated resignation in his voice that made something knot nauseatingly inside her stomach.
Harshvardhan hadn’t been in the court for even a single proceeding, hadn’t even asked after Shauryaman from Meenakshi. It was a damning sobering thought that had escaped her before.
Shauryaman laughed lightly, but the jubilance fell flat in his eyes. There was no brightness on his handsome face, only slant shadows and streaks of light pouring from the sunroof in a mystifying pattern of gold and grey blanketing him.
“I didn’t know what I had expected. Maybe he would have at least wanted to know whether I am alive. I guess the television showed him— he must be busy with the board”, he said quaintly.
Oh..oh
Meenakshi felt someone had taken hold of her heart and was squeezing it mercilessly. She also felt an intense desire to deck Gaur senior but she kept it to herself.
Shauryaman was still smiling a little blankly at the passing sunset over marine drive.
“What did I hear about a party tomorrow that you invited a random reporter to?”, Meenakshi said suddenly, if only to distract her husband somewhat.
How can one distract someone from such a base primeval agony?
But Shauryaman seemed excited all of a sudden. There was a strange almost endearing childish glee on his chiselled face. His dark eyes had its mischievous twinkle back and Meenakshi couldn’t help but suppress a smile of her own.
His sudden unprecedented cheer was dangerously contagious.
“You know, when I was a baby, maa used to read all these stories to me at bedtime. It was my favourite time of the day. She was an avid reader and adored classics but I was always more fascinated with mystery. The clues left throughout the book, the invisible threads which joined so seamlessly at the end— the final reveal..”
Shauryaman seemed to have gone into a trance, or maybe surfing through the memory lane which held the happier times of his life. The smile on his face that usually swung between extreme cynicism and salacious charm had softened into one of those inordinately rare softness.
Pauravi Gaur must have been a lovely woman.
“When I grew up a little, papa got me all those whodunnit books that I would devour like an addict. I think my fascination towards law had somehow begun from there. It was a nice..those days when mama was alive and papa liked me a little—”
The last words had tangled together making his cadence thicken into an uncomfortable emotion and Meenakshi had to swallow the lump formed in her throat.
If she focussed hard enough she could picture a little boy with Shauryaman’s eyes but with chubbier, fuller cheeks and that annoying waves of hair over his forehead with his head buried in a book, swinging his legs from his perch on their kitchen island.
There was no melancholy in his gaze, none of that hollow eyed trauma hidden beneath sharp words and a cavalier attitude.
It made her ache somewhere.
“Anyway”, Shauryaman’s sudden exclamation broke her reverie, “what I meant to say was that my favourite moment in all those stories was the time of the reveal. Call everyone, the guilty, the innocent, the co-conspirators, the spectators at one place and unravel the truth— curtain fall.”
She turned to look at him.
Shauryaman had a wicked glint in his eyes now. But there was also a darkness threaded into the look like a possessive vine around an oak. It was strangely attractive— like a macabre sort of pull that forced one to stare into the abyss even if they know better.
A party?
The curtain-fall moment.
For some reason, Meenakshi felt like destiny was waiting at the doorstep of this enigmatic celebration that was supposed to unravel the truth that had been hankering at her heels from the first moment she had laid eyes on Shauryaman Gaur.
The question was, would she be able to tide this oncoming tsunami and remain standing at the other end?
_________________________
Eleven Years Ago
“...I was just saying that had we established precedent, all the mental gymnastics we had to do after wouldn’t have taken so bloody long—”
The young lawyer collapsed on the desk, face first into the pages of the Criminal Law Edition XII that was nestled in between a thousand other papers and files and ensuing paraphernalia.
“We still won the case— the farmers of Bishnoi will have their natural biosphere reserves intact and the Hingorani group will have to remove their pollution intensive plant from their land”, the older man remarked, nudging the younger’s head off the book and putting it back on the bookshelf in its designated place.
“But, had we told the judge about the Tribals of Manjhipal Vs. The Ruia Group case we could have saved so much time and effort running behind clues and witnesses”
“Shaurya, you are a brilliant lawyer and your points hold merit but sometimes we have to consider the human angle as well. This was a media intensive trial and I didn’t want to remind the public or the court about the scandal surrounding Purna Ruia. The girl had already been through enough— you know how the press is. The court would have called her and then the press would have dragged her name and character all over the place in the name of truth and reporting.”
There was a thick distaste in Arjun Mehra’s voice that was palpable in the air.
Shauryaman was looking at him sideways now, still loathed to remove his head completely off the desk.
He had been surviving on caffeine, Twix bars and sheer will since the past week.
But the satisfaction of a conviction always superseded everything else.
It was like a drug— a shot of heroin that made him forget about the bitter truths of his life.
“You are too noble for your own good, Mister hundred percent. One day someone is going to use this against you and get their job done at your expense. Or worse, someone is going to do something horrible and get a pass because you are too righteous to exploit the loopholes”, he declared sagely.
Arjun swatted at his head with a heavy binder making the latter yelp in protest and rub the spot of abuse, almost pouting at being tapped like a child.
“Hey now—”
“And you are too young to be making futuristic premonitions of wisdom, little lawyer. You need to sleep. Get some shut eye and don't drive yourself into a tree or your father will kill me”, Ikka chuckled trying to manage the pandemonium on his desk.
“Don’t call me little. I am just fifteen years younger than you. Also papa wouldn’t care if you hang me upside down from the rafters and leave me to bleed to death”, the last part came muffled from where Shauryaman had tucked his face inside his arms on the desk, ending his bitter words in a small yawn.
The sudden touch on his head startled the younger man.
Arjun was threading his fingers through his hair almost soothingly.
“Don’t be an idiot, kid. He is your father. Of course he cares, even if he is shit at showing it sometimes. He calls me up almost every week to ask how you are faring—”, Ikka sounded almost fond.
Shauryaman was carefully still like the fingers inside his hair was a bomb ready to detonate on the slightest movement. He couldn’t let himself be nudged for even a fraction more. But he didn’t pull away like Arjun had expected.
In fact he almost seemed to lean into the touch.
It was strange for the usually prickly and cynical Shauryaman Gaur.
The boy was a genius but also impossibly ill-mannered and completely amoral. He needed to be directed towards his potential to be used for the good more often than general silliness and the usual vices of the men of his social status.
But he was a good boy.
Deep underneath all those spikes and acidic disregard.
There was softness in him.
“Well..he never asks me”, the young intern said morosely.
“Well then he is being an idiot. Tell him, I said so and that Ikka never lies”, Arjun winked at him and walked around the corner to push the photocopies of the police reports inside the thick binder.
Shauryaman giggled from behind him.
An honest to god, giggle from a twenty five year old shouldn’t sound so endearing. Maybe he needed a shut eye as well. The case had dragged on for forever and all the mental hoopjumps had exhausted him.
“Good night boss”
Shauryaman stifled a yawn and dragged himself to the exit, almost asleep even as he stumbled outside.
Arjun smiled to himself and called his driver to get the Gaur heir home safely.
He would definitely meet with an accident if he drove in this state— the fool.
The next case on the docket was a strange one indeed.
A woman accused of murdering her own husband. One of those endless pro bono cases they took up as per the mandate set by Arjun for the firm.
He had a feeling this would be one of those cases that made him wrack his brains.
If only he had known then—
_________________________
Vikram Phulkar was so nervous he almost dropped the glass three times since he had refilled it for the second time.
Arjun Mehra was a formidable man and had the hundred yard stare of that infamously strict principal of your school. He had been quiet for the entire duration of thirty minutes that it had taken for Vikram to recount the events of that night.
When he finally spoke, the older man’s voice was steady, yet hid a simmering adrenaline underneath.
“And why didn’t you come forward while the case was ongoing?”
Vikram swallowed hard.
“I…I was scared. That man..he looked unhinged. And he saw me. He knew where I lived. I was scared stiff that he would find a way to close my mouth permanently— so I ran and hid in my friend’s house in Goa”, the man stuttered.
“So, why are you here now?”
“Because..oh god, I can’t take it anymore, sir. I see that girl in my dreams and the guilt doesn’t let me eat, or sleep or breathe. I have to..even if it kills me. I have to.”
“So let me get this straight”, Ikka leaned forward in his seat, keeping the man in laser focus, “you have seen the man? His entire face. You can identify him and you are ready to testify in court against him?”
“Yes!”, Vikram let out and sagged in his seat like he had run a marathon.
Arjun smiled and leaned back in his own chair, satisfaction swarming his entire self in tandem. Then he picked up his mobile, dialing the first number in the recent call list.
Fortunately the contract of his firm with Gaur constructions had been broken that afternoon itself. Or else, getting this information to the correct parties would have had him in a pickle.
But God looks after those who fight for the truth.
“Hello..yes, Madhura. I have something for you—”
Gotcha now bastard!
________________________________
Inspector Dattarao Gokhale wiped the sweat off his forehead with a stained white handkerchief and leaned against the wall. His muscles were burning gratuitously and despite the impromptu workout in the holding cell, he was feeling euphoric.
He might have taken out his wrath at the failed conviction and Shauryaman Gaur’s stupid ass face on his so-called attacker, but it was well used.
The man had been a tough nut but eventually everyone broke.
He had garbled out the names of his associates and especially the man who had hired him. That had sent half the police department into a frenzy. Never before had anyone even dared to utter his name lest agree to testify against him.
Raghav fucking Chotan— that slippery eel who has the Mumbai underworld in a chokehold because of his drugs.
He had so many open cases on him that it could probably fill the entire station but they could never catch him before. He always slid off with some technicality and more often than not under the patronage of the powers that be.
But the crown was slowly shifting. There were rumours of a structural change happening in the government and unfortunately for Chotan— he and his gang had fallen in with the losing side in this war.
The central powers were slowly ingratiating themselves into the governance and the Chief Minister’s throne had been shaking precariously since the land corruption cases had been brought to the forefront.
This was the perfect time to catch Chotan once and for all and somehow get him either to turn on his actual boss or have him shipped to Tihar.
Dattarao could already smell the polish of his new badge and a shiny promotion waiting at the corner.
Looks like that murderous brat came to be of use after all.
The inspector only wished the stupid attacker had killed that entitled fucker before getting caught. It would have been one less criminal on the street and justice for that poor girl whose mother was still sitting empty eyed in the courtroom.
“Sir, the DIG is on the line—”, an SI gave him his cell and Gokhale straightened immediately.
“Yes sir.. Yes. We have him, sir. I will get the teams ready. What..but, but sir what if he tries to run? Oh..okay. Tomorrow sir? Alright. Yes sir.”
Dattarao cursed as the line cut.
He hoped Raghav didn’t bolt before he could put the handcuffs on him.
Why did the DIG ask him to wait and keep watch for today and only arrest him tomorrow evening, he didn’t know.
Well, at least it wasn’t a ‘look the other way’ command that he has been receiving since years.
Raghav Chotan was a big fish but Dattarao wanted bigger.
He wanted Tony Braganza.
________________________________________
“The sheer gall of the boy! He has invited me for some celebratory party”, Tony Braganza’s rough cadence filtered from the line.
“Then he is more foolish than we give him credit for—”
“Or, delusional. Does he seriously have no idea who called the hit on him?”, the older man continued sounding pinched.
“Your man failed”, the voice answering was tempered in a way only polished diplomats expressing mild annoyance could be.
“The brat moved at the last moment. It was a fluke. The security around was too tight, he didn’t get a second chance”
Braganza sounded miffed. Someone’s head was about to roll.
“And now he is in custody—”
“Don’t worry. There will be no blowback on us. These people are insects, they die out and proliferate at the same pace. I will have someone take him out before the police get anything and even if they do— Raghav will take care of it”
The man just hummed absent minded.
“Are you going to the party?”, he asked finally.
“Why should I?”
“Maybe you should. Would give us both a good alibi—”
“Hmm, as if you need an alibi. The police lick your boots and the government has your back. You are protected, but me—”
The man cut through Braganza’s tirade amicably.
“Arre sir, you are just as protected. Remember, I take care of my friends. Do come, it would be an educational experience..”
There was silence on the line before Tony spoke again, this time a mild curiosity and just a hint of concern in his raucous tone.
“If the boy gets arrested again, it would be a headache to get to him before the courts—”
The man looked at the invite on his desk and smirked.
He should have picked it up and thrown it right at the trashcan but he had hesitated. There was, after all, a different kind of beauty in watching a gazelle being torn to shreds by a tiger or rather, a foolish little hummingbird being pulled down from the air and smashed underfoot.
Who was he to refuse when the prey himself had called upon his predator?
It has been too long since the man had enjoyed a good spectacle.
He had already learnt what was about to happen from his sources at the police department. He knew Arjun “Ikka” Mehra wouldn’t sit still and let a rich brat play him.
Honestly, who even leaves an eye witness of a murder alive?
The sheer level of delusional stupidity that most of these trust find kids lived with astonished the man. He had had his concerns about involving the idiot in their business but he had delivered the permit plans as promised and Braganza had vouched for the man.
In his line of work, he had to keep the underworld relatively happy.
Braganza’s man may have missed that day but Shauryaman Gaur’s fate was sealed the moment his lasciviousness had resulted in targeting him.
The media might keep crying all they want but they would never get to the bottom of the fiasco that the very public trial of Shauryaman Gaur had started— he had too much leverage in the market.
But unfortunately for Gaur Jr. someone has to be the collateral damage.
“You leave that to me, Mr. Braganza.”
He cut the call before the other man could say anything— something he knew very few people can do and live to tell the tale.
The man dialed another number on his phone, this time to his most trusted confidante and right hand man. The line clicked after three rings as usual.
“I have a job for you—”
___________________________________
The party was being held at the Oberoi.
Harshvardhan Gaur had spared no expense and it showed in the lavish ambience and high class treatment of the guests.
But most people knew what it was actually trying to compensate for—
A paltry attempt to convince the public and the high society of Mumbai that Shauryaman was proclaimed innocent of a crime everyone has already declared him guilty of, irrespective of the court’s verdict.
He may have won the case but he has lost the media trial badly.
It definitely didn’t help that the company was dragged through the mud, thanks to the corruption charges which the government was still battling exhaustively. That was a PR nightmare that the board had stayed awake for weeks together to handle. They had barely managed to bypass the charges and the ensuing litigation.
This was a way of loosening up for one night if anything.
Shauryaman walked down the staircase, a buttoned white shirt under a black blazer letting his hair fall in artfully arranged waves of dishevelment— the epitome of rakish charm and suave roguishness befitting his less than stellar reputation perfectly. He was grinning at whoever caught his eye, carefully keeping the mask of the jubilant hero having returned home.
A curtain of pretentious cheer and bright glee twinkled in his dark eyes as he searched the massive hall for his targets.
Most of them seemed to be in attendance and he had personally received them in turn.
Tony Braganza had walked in flanked by his gigantic bodyguards, with the fervor of a man used to the ostentatious arrangement and clearly entitled towards the wave of wariness that had suffused in the air around him. He had smirked at Shauryaman, peering down at him with that same unnerving stare that bespoke of a tiger considering a deer.
“Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Yet I believe you could have avoided the entire circus by easier means—”, the older man had said in that characteristic snakelike tone.
Shauryaman had barely managed to swallow the shudder and had instead given him an empty headed smile.
“Of course of course… you know how all of these things go, police, media, lawyers and the shenanigans of the disgruntled public—”, he had waved it off and handed him a glass of the scotch he had observed the other man drinking before.
Braganza had only slapped him on the back once, giving him a toothy smile resembling a demon having crawled out of hell. The man was as transparent in his disdain of Shauryaman as the crystal chandelier above head and saw no qualms in making it known through his gaze alone.
“You have much wisdom to learn, boy..”
And he had mingled away in the crowd of the other businessmen, shaking hands with the lot.
Shauryaman had resisted the urge to bare his teeth and spit his own words back at him with a herculean effort.
Just a little more…
He had been surprised on seeing Madhura Banerjee in the crowd but hadn’t approached her, content to let her exist at the edge of the hall.
He had hoped she would accept the invite but had been increasingly skeptical of her actually turning up. After all, his world represented everything the young prosecutor derided with open passion and then, she had been trounced at court.
Oh..maybe she was called by someone else.
“Nandita, my love. So nice of you to make time—”, he had crowed at the chief editor of Samachaar. So, that reporter from yesterday, Keertan, had conveyed his message to his boss, after all.
“Don’t get gassed. I could care less about whatever shitty excuse you gave the court. If you are expecting me to do a puff piece and whitewash your dirty laundry, you will be sorely disappointed, Mr. Gaur.”
Nandita Kothari retorted, rolling her eyes and sipped on what looked like a dirty martini from her glass, looking resplendent in her usual hand crafted heavy silk saree and signature wide rimmed spectacles.
The woman was infamous for her cutthroat reporting and neutral take on politics.
And maybe that was the reason why her newspaper still hadn’t managed to get national coverage. No political party would back her. And that was the sole reason for calling her.
After tonight, Samachaar would most likely top the TRP ratings for weeks to come if not months.
“Oh come on, Di, couldn’t I have wanted my friend to come to my homecoming party?”, Shauryaman smirked, refilling her glass graciously.
“Oh please… we aren’t friends. It was a one night stand, years ago. We were drunk and stupid and too fucking young—”
“Always a killjoy, Ms. Kothari. Anyway, enjoy the party and keep a lookout, you might end up catching a bomb trying to hook a fish.”
Shauryaman left Nandita with a confused frown at his cryptic words and made his way towards the man who had just entered the hall.
His heart had almost leapt to his throat with repressed excitement.
The moment he had been diligently waiting for the past ten years.
So fucking close he can almost touch it.
This had been his only source of anxiety since the day of his release. He had set the board and arranged the pieces but the game could only start if the King was on the floor. Looked like he had accurately judged the near arrogant complacency in the man.
After all, who could resist watching someone get trapped in a web woven by them?
Not a man who is used to deference, to winning, to always having absolute control over every situation and person in his life.
But the funny thing about control was it never remained with one person for too long— it was dodgy, shifty and invariably tied to destiny.
And tonight, destiny was his to make.
“Mr. Thatkar, welcome. We are honoured to host you—”, Harshvardhan was shaking hands with the man even before Shauryaman could reach him.
Figures, his father would want to personally welcome perhaps the most powerful man in the state.
Adarsh Thatkar smiled benignly, his handsome face effused with a sharp cunning wit and his hawk-like eyes bypassed the older man and fixed straight on his son. He seemed to rip through him with a single gaze, the base level of disregard like Shauryaman was a bug under his expensive boot.
And then removed his eyes in a split second as if he wasn’t worth a second glance and focussed on Gaur senior, talking to him in low tones. Shauryaman didn’t break his stride, didn’t flinch or recoil or snarl back, instead smiled at him welcomingly.
“Shauryaman, pretty nifty of you to slink out of the court’s jaws like that. It was rather..entertaining”, Adarsh drawled as if he was amused, once the aforementioned was in earshot.
There was a clear insinuation of the latter’s guilt in Thatkar’s voice. His expression was pleasingly quaint but there was a strange malicious delight in those soulless eyes. Harshvardhan frowned heavily at that but before he could open his mouth, Shauryaman barked a loud enough laughter for a few of the guests to look their way.
“See that is the funny thing— I learnt it from watching the politicians of this state. It was rather educational”, he said without missing a beat.
Adarsh Thatkar’s expression didn’t twist but his eyes flashed murderously. The mockery hadn’t gone unnoticed and the former smirked nastily at Shauryaman— teeth sparkling like a predator’s fangs, positioned to sink into flesh.
“One shouldn't dance when the ice beneath is so thin a single breeze could crack it”, he hissed the words in a saccharine tune.
A plastic look of mock concern on those eerily beautiful features.
A devil’s face if Shauryaman had ever seen any.
“Indeed. Enjoy the party”, he smirked lightly and let the man pass.
“Why are you antagonizing him? Do you even know how powerful he is?”, Harshvardhan hissed once Thatkar had walked far enough. Shauryaman just looked at his father and tried to muster up the energy to match his irritation and surprisingly came up empty.
His mind must have finally accepted the bitter truth.
“Oh so now you want to talk? You couldn’t even find time to see my face since I have been out, forget when I had been in freaking jail”, he whispered and saw his father look aside, as if in refusal to let him witness his hesitation.
He sighed.
“I can’t do this right now..”, Shauryaman walked back inside the hall leaving Harshvardhan standing, staring rigidly at his wake.
The King was here, the board was set, the game was on.
Now he just needed the final strike.
Shauryaman was so lost in his own musings he almost crashed into his wife who was walking up to him in that ever familiar power stride.
Meenakshi— she was looking breathtaking in that black saree that glittered a dark navy whenever the light fell on the crevices of the heavy fabric that wrapped around her enviable figure like an amorous lover, complimenting the glistening cream of her skin perfectly. She had paired it with a corset blouse that had shaped her breasts so alluringly that it could make the damsels of heaven weep with envy.
With her thick wavy hair open and styled to fall on her shoulder and curvy waist, black liner shaping the mesmerizing doe shaped eyes and a bold unapologetic red on those plump lips— she was a goddess.
Shauryaman could stare at her for hours, like she was a priceless painting hanging on the wall of the Louvre, a masterclass in the art of power and poise.
A tragic poetry in motion.
She was wearing heels high enough that she was almost at level with his own height. The red soled tips clacked determinedly on the polished marble floor as she made her way confidently towards him.
Shauryaman would never understand how she could move in such a fearless manner all the time. Like nothing could stop her or break her flow. That nothing around mattered, like the very air would bend around her to create a vacuum of power for her presence.
She was effervescent, transcendental and so beautiful it made him want to avert his eyes and glue them to her face simultaneously.
He was so pathetically gone on her that it wasn’t even funny.
And the only thing that still made his rotten heart twist in phantom pain was that after this was over, the most probable outcome would see her walk out on him.
He wouldn’t begrudge her a formal separation or even a divorce.
It was imminent.
She deserved the stars, not a wrung out, used and abused piece of broken trash, up to his eyeballs in daddy issues and every kind of mental trauma imaginable.
Though she had been upset at him yesterday— after tonight’s revelation she would finally see what he had been trying to tell her quietly for months.
He isn’t worth the effort.
Not anymore.
“The guests appear to be fairly manageable, lesser people than I would have expected but then—”, Meenakshi stopped and the silence spoke for itself.
Shauryaman resisted the urge to stroke a fluttering curl off her beauteous face.
“All the better. The less people witness the ensuing drama, the better chance we would have in controlling it—”, he said carefully, sweeping his eyes once over the ensemble cast of unwilling actors that he had erected for the night’s play.
“You still haven’t told me, what disaster you are about to do now..”, she responded a little miffed but there was a smidgen of curiosity in her suspicious tone.
Shauryaman just winked at her, making her roll those irresistible eyes at his antics.
“Ikka? What is he doing here?”
Meenakshi’s next words brought Shauryaman’s focus back to the world in present and to the task at hand.
“Arjun Mehra! What a pleasant surprise. Didn’t expect to see you here, mingling with us plebians in… what did you say it was? Ahh yes.. ‘wasteful frivolity’.”
Shauryaman chuckled, sweeping his arms around in a pantomiming gesture, wide enough to almost knock over a guest who had been passing by.
There was a strange twinkle in Arjun’s wizened eyes— the look of a hunter who had finally trapped his bait. Shauryaman hadn’t anticipated his former boss to be here at all and by the strange looks and illegible murmurs of the other people in attendance coming from the corners, gave credence to their surprise as well.
Ikka, though, looked completely unbothered at the stir he had created or the dramatic way he had been welcomed.
“I could care less about your party, Shauryaman. There was a development in the case and I just couldn’t resist but deliver the brilliant news to you, myself”, the older man smirked at him in a completely uncharacteristic way.
Shauryaman squinted, his smile faltering at the edges.
“Whatever do you mean?”, he whispered and saw Mitali Mittal of all people coming up to stand behind Arjun. She was suddenly flanked by Madhura, almost like the latter was shielding her from view.
There was that singular look of utter hatred in the woman’s eyes as she stared him down icily.
Shit. Too soon.. It was too soon.
“I mean, your game is up. The truth is out and you cannot force me anymore to abide by your deplorable conditions to save your own skin”, Arjun said with a victorious smile.
“What? What are you—”
“You are charged with murder with intent of Ms. Soma Mittal under IPC Section 302 or BNS section 101 — first degree culpable homicide. You killed that girl in cold blood. It was not an accident, or an impulsive heat of the moment thing! You planned for it meticulously, it was a cold blooded premeditated murder”
Arjun’s words rang ominously in the otherwise warm atmosphere of the party rendering everyone within hearing distance mute with shock. Mitali Mittal’s eyes were burning now, her pale lifeless face from before having turned into a virulence of vengeful rage.
Madhura Banerjee’s presence suddenly made perfect sense.
“What? How—”
Someone stuttered from the crowd and Shauryaman could see his father stagger in place, eyes wide on a rapidly paling face.
Arjun Mehra was still smiling in that annoyingly pleasant way.
Adarsh Thatkar was leaning against the bar top a few feet away, looking at all of them with his beetle-like gaze, a half amused smile dangling from his lips.
The man was enjoying the dramatic twist in the tale, no doubt.
Good.
“What proof do you have?”, Shauryaman asked coolly.
“Oh unshakable proof. Nothing that can be twisted and manipulated in court. We have an eyewitness—”
A gasp reverberated.
Shauryaman paid no heed to it, staring unblinking and vicious at his opponent— Arjun hadn’t lost his steam yet and continued unperturbed.
“You thought you could scare the man away but alas, the conscience of a good person will always win over fear. He will testify in court on what he saw. You and Ms. Mittal getting out of the car, you jabbing the syringe in her arm and stabbing her in the neck with your car keys and then dumping her body on the road and driving away”
The silence in the hall was deafening.
“And that stupid alibi you tried to establish? Calling your wife and asking her to make a fake call to the police helpline? Yeah, we know about that too. Your call records clearly show where you were when that call went through to Meenakshi Gaur and moments later, a call to the helpline. Also the servant she had appointed to screech in the background, you both should have trained him to pronounce your name better— honestly that ‘Meenaksi’, swallowing the ‘h’ was amateurish at best.”
Shauryaman didn’t turn to look at his wife but he could feel her absolutely still form beside him. She hadn’t moved for even a fraction and he knew there was no discernible expression on her face— Meenakshi was too good for theatrics.
He could feel a bubbling hysteria unlock inside his core and he almost guffawed and barely managed to stop it. But he evidently hadn’t managed to will it away from his face because he could see Arjun’s face twist in confusion and Mrs. Mittal’s eyes explode in literal lava.
“You think it is funny? You killed my poor girl! And for what! Her body? You lecherous demon! Now you will rot in prison for the rest of your miserable existence—”, Mitali shouted, finally bursting with the poison she had swallowed since the past few weeks.
Shauryaman spluttered suddenly, unable to hold back the laughter anymore.
“Sorry…sorry”, he hiccuped once and wiped his eyes knowing fully well how insane he must appear to the rest, “I just couldn’t take it anymore. The sheer ease with which you all were fooled was historic. I should direct a film—”
Meenakshi shifted for the first time but made no move to appear closer or distance herself.
“You are mad..”, Madhura whispered incredulously.
The young prosecutor was standing beside Arjun now, appearing just as proud as her so-called mentor. It would have made Shauryaman jealous at one time. Now, it just made him melancholic.
“The eyewitness you were talking about.... Mr. Vikram Phulkar, right? Mr. Phulkar, yes… do come out from the crowd please—”
Everyone whipped their heads at the side of the hall from where a lanky man walked into the floor, shifting nervously.
“What in..what are you doing here? You were supposed to be in the safehouse, you moron!”, Madhura hissed between her teeth.
“Calm down, Ms. Banerjee. It isn’t his fault. I asked him to be here, especially for this scenario. I knew Ikka well enough, he couldn’t have resisted the urge to appear noble and heroic, only I hadn’t expected you all so soon..”, Shauryaman cocked his head to a side, eyeing the anxious man nonchalantly.
“What the fuck are you on about?”, Arjun snarled finally.
“Did Mr. Phulkar not tell you both that he is a recovering drug addict?”
The words seemed to fall like a thunderstrike in the room.
Vikram paled considerably and Arjun stared befuddled at the other man.
“His testimony is as admissible as a tree on the side of the road—”
“That does not.. I will prove to the court that he was in sound mind. He hasn’t had a hit in months. We did a narco test”, Madhura countered sharply.
“Of course. But then, did he also tell you and he hadn’t run away anywhere, instead was sitting at home on a fat pile of cash that I had given to him to shut his mouth? Did he tell that sob story about fear and conscience to you, Ikka ji?”
The last part was said with such acerbic sweetness that it hit Arjun with the ferocity of a nauseating punch to the stomach.
Shauryaman shouldn’t enjoy the changing colors of horror and anger on their faces as much as he clearly was but then changed his mind immediately— he deserved this much.
“That only exacerbates your intent and guilt”, she shot back.
“Does it now? Lets put Mr. Phulkar on the witness stand—”, Shauryaman turned around, his entire demeanour suddenly shifting from casual playboy to extreme gravitas of a foxy lawyer with such rapidity that it was dizzying.
“Vikram Phulkar, do tell the court what you saw that night?”
Before Arjun or Madhura could object, the young man stammered and started speaking.
“I..I uh, you and the girl..Soma. You both came out of the car and you jabbed a needle in her arm—”
“Wait. So you clearly saw us both and recognized us. Does that mean you could see our faces? Did I jab a needle in her arm?”
“Yes..I—”
“Think carefully Mr. Phulkar, I jabbed a needle in her arm? I held her back, she struggled? Or was she drunk or drugged? Did she stagger, was she already unconscious? Was she in her full senses? Don’t forget your earlier claim of seeing us both very clearly at around two or three at night? You are a recovering addict, you know how to insert a syringe right?”
Vikram was visibly sweating, trying to remember hard from the look of pinched concentration on his face. Then his features brightened.
“She gave you her arm and you pierced the needle—”
“What nonsense! You are manipulating him!”, Arjun shouted only for Shauryaman to wave him off with a stern glare.
“Let me ask questions. Prosecution will have his chance.”
The older man shut up, reddening in humiliation.
The audience was raptured. It was like someone had switched on a strange movie in front of them and they were transfixed.
“So, where were we? I inserted a needle in her arm that she didn’t resist, when she was in full faculties?”
The other man nodded hesitantly. A clear look of doubt on his expression but he didn’t verbally counter his claim which was damning enough and by Madhura’s darkening expression, it was clear.
“Then I stabbed her in the neck with my car keys?”, Shauryaman asked shrewdly.
“Yes!”
“And you saw it happen with your own eyes? I am stabbing the woman in her neck with my car keys?”
“Yes I saw it!”
“Which side of her neck did I stab?”
Vikram opened his mouth and stopped, a look of baffled panic crossing his face. Shauryaman was staring at him like one would on a particularly disinteresting bug pinned to a board.
“Which side of her neck did I stab Ms. Mittal, Mr. Phulkar? Come on, it is an easy question isn’t it? Since you saw me doing it so clearly..”
“Left..left side.. No no.. right. My right—”
“Which side, Mr. Phulkar? Are you confident in your answer!”
“Left!”
“Is it?”
“Yes.. no..I.. I can’t remember.”
“You can’t remember. Is it because of the hit you took just an hour before you apparently saw us or because the tree in front of your verandah that definitely blocked your line of sight?”
Vikram looked harried and then down at his feet, shrinking in himself.
Shauryaman shook his head and turned back to face the older lawyer.
“Your very predictable and unshakable witness, prosecution. My new and improved defense counsel will tear him and his bogus testimony to shreds. I rest my case.”
The quiet in the room was as telling as the furious look crossing both Arjun and Madhura’s faces. They had not anticipated what Shauryaman had done. He wasn’t behaving in his usual detached devil may care way.
This was not the characteristic maverick billionaire the world knew and derided.
This was someone else.
“Don’t forget we still have the false alibi—”, Arjun retorted hotly at last, throwing a disgusted look at Vikram Phulkar who recoiled and shifted back in the shadows.
“Ahh yes, I concede, that phone call was a hasty decision. But then I could give the court proof where I had been for the entire time that you so helpfully established in the evidence as the probable time of the murder.”
“Oh can you now? Where were you then? Another club? Another woman?”, Arjun spat, crossing his arms against his chest.
Shauryaman smiled at him blasely.
“I was at Mr. Sahani’s house. Ask the valet, the attendant who woke up to open the door. Or rather, watch the CCTV footage of his garage.”
“Indeed. And what were you doing at the house of the CEO of your company at two fucking am at night?”, Madhura asked, almost shuddering in repressed wrath.
“Making up for the six stitches he had got on his face that evening”, he replied, shrugging as if it was a normal thing to do.
Meenakshi’s sudden gasp tore through Shauryaman’s intentionally imposed statuesque chill immediately. He turned to see the six shades of color that his wife’s pretty countenance had lost instantly.
She hadn’t once lost her composure, following the drama happening in front, not even when she had been accused as accessory to murder.
She composed herself instantly but the split second of horror in her luminous eyes bore witness to the fact that she knew imminently how exactly had her husband made up for her punch.
Shauryaman wanted to reassure her that very second but the words coagulated in his throat and the more pressing concern of the night had him keep mum.
“None of that matters right now. You will get arrested tonight and you better start praying because this time I will not let you slip away because of a stupid loophole and no amount of Ikka’s good reputation will save you—”, Madhura Banerjee declared caustically.
Before he could say anything, a new voice shattered the unnerving silence of the hall.
“No. No more courts and trials and this stupid broken system that punishes innocents and lets the guilty walk free. You don’t deserve to live, not after what you did to my sister.”
The young boy suddenly sprang out of nowhere, the barrel of a gun shaking in his white knuckled grip, pointed straight at Shauryaman.
“Nikhil! No!”
Mitali Mittal’s warning cry was filled with terror and shock.
“Shaurya!”
Harshvardhan’s voice shook like a leaf caught in a hurricane, the older man was being held back by Prakhar and Riddhiman in the background.
At least his father seemed to care.
Meenakshi had clutched his bicep painfully tight, a tremor of fear and surprise wracking through her usually poised frame, seemed to pass right through his own body.
But none of that mattered as Shauryaman’s gaze lifted from the barrel in front to the cold gaze of Tony Braganza in the distance. The former mafia boss had been watching the proceedings with great amusement.
“What are you doing? Nikhil..put the gun down. This is not the way.. He will be arrested”, Arjun was holding his hands up placantingly, trying to soothe the clearly agitated boy even as the seventeen year old refused to budge, or even move his overly bright, furic gaze away from his target.
“No. He will slip again..these rich types always do. A life for a life, is the correct price. I will not let him get away again! Soma di deserved better!”, Nikhil screamed, gun moving wildly in front as the guests gave way at the sides, moving away from the attack range, gasping in horror.
“Yes, she deserved better, didn’t she? Better than what you did, Nikhil”, Shauryaman peeled Meenakshi’s fingers away from his arm, patting her knuckles comfortingly and ignored the hissed call of his name and made his way fearlessly towards the boy.
“What are you doing? Shauyra, get back!”, his wife snarled from the back but he kept walking till he had reached the barrel which was now shaking dangerously close to his chest.
“Shut up!”, Nikhil yelled, voice shaking just as bad as his hand.
“Kid, you will hurt yourself. You are holding the handle way too tight. Do you even know how to use that thing? The recoil will snap your bone. You are shaking too damned much.”
“Shut up shut up shut the fuck up. I will fucking shoot, I swear”
“And do what? Kill me? Then go to jail for the rest of your life? You will be tried as an adult, you do know that right? That means, getting locked up in a jail full of criminals. You know what they do to boys like you, there?”
Shauryaman spat so harshly, Nikhil couldn’t help but stagger back a little. But his hold still hadn’t loosened and he was still pointing the gun towards him.
“St..stay back! I am not kidding..I will shoot you—”, the youngest Mittal squeaked.
Shauryaman smirked and took another step forward and let the barrel rest directly on his chest. His eyes were twin pits of charcoal ash as he bored down in the sweating boy’s face.
“Then shoot. Do you know how it feels to kill? Can you take it? I don’t think so…”, he gingerly lifted his hand till it reached just near the barrel.
Nikhil was staring quite helplessly at him. The earlier wrath had melted into a heartbreaking confusion. Shauryaman wrapped his hand around the death grip the former had on the handle and slowly started peeling his fingers back.
“You are no killer, Nikhil Mittal. Trust me, I know. I have stared down the eyes of psychopaths. You do not have what it takes. Leave the murder to professionals and criminals and go take care of the mother you were so eager to leave behind on the provocation of ghosts and empty bravado.”
Nikhil let out a sob and Shauryaman took the gun from his hand deftly and pulled away before the latter could grab it back or worse hurt himself trying to snatch it in a struggle.
Mittali who had been crying silently till now, leapt towards the boy and dragged him back bodily. Everyone seemed to breathe a simultaneous and collective sigh of relief and Shauryaman could hear his father drop on a seat behind.
Meenakshi stood frozen, her eyes blazing fire and he knew he would pay dearly for this stunt later.
He only hoped there would be a later.
Shauryaman inspected the gun and smiled as he noticed the scratched off serial number on the barrel.
“Do you know who gave you this weapon, Nikhil?”, he asked casually to the still trembling boy.
Nikhil glared at him but kept mum.
“Well then, let me guess. A man came to you after school and cornered you, he spoke about how your family deserves justice and how I would walk scott free no matter how many convictions they try to put on me. He told you to be a man and get revenge for your sister and handed you this gun—”
Arjun who had been quiet all this while frowned severely and looked how the remaining color had dropped off Nikhil’s face.
“How.. how did you know?”, he whispered, shocked.
“Because I know who sent that man to you to manipulate and turn you into his weapon. It is his signature move. His favourite strategy. The same man who sent a killer after me that day before court. The man who is standing here with us, basking in the flames of the fire which he had set so artfully.”
The pin drop silence in the hall was thick with bewildered perplexity as everyone seemed to try and search for this elusive man or wonder about Shauryaman’s sanity, maybe.
“Why, Mr. Thatkar, would you ever think that handing a gun to a boy would be a foolproof plan? You are losing your touch…”
Shauryaman drawled, looking straight at the politician who had been watching everything, the edge of his whiskey glass touched to the skin of his jagged smile.
The gasp which now echoed off the glass encrusted ceiling of the hall was the loudest.
Adarsh Thatkar, the son of the sitting chief minister of Maharashtra was one of the most powerful men in the entire country and one of the most influential ones as well.
He was celebrated to have the most spotless career in the murky world of politics amongst all his peers. He had funded NGOs galore, had enough philanthropic pursuits to shame some of the biggest business giants in the world and regularly appeared on ground to work with his party members towards the betterment of the common man.
The media loved him, the opposition had only good things to say and the community had an almost worshipful stance. It was also rumoured that the only reason it was his father on the seat and not him, was because Adarsh had famously stated that he would never sit on the throne, lest the corruption of absolute power manage to touch him as well.
No one in the history of the past fifteen years of the ruling party’s reign in the state has been able to put a single scratch on Adarsh Thatkar’s reputation and lived to tell the tale.
Adarsh sipped on the alcohol from his glass and cocked an eyebrow, almost as if he was impressed at the sheer audacity of this brat accusing him.
“Mr. Gaur, I truly wonder about your sanity sometimes. Are you sure you didn’t drink too much?”, the older man sniggered.
Shauryaman smirked and in a sudden move opened the safety that no one had even realised was on throughout the entire exchange with Nikhil Mittal and pointed it straight at Adarsh.
It was probably the nth time everyone had gasped in horror.
Adarsh seemed unruffled at being kept on the other end of the barrel.
“Please, Mr. Gaur. Spare me the theatrics. Like you said to the boy, put it down before you hurt yours—”
But the man couldn’t finish because Shauryaman shot out a whiskey glass kept on the bartop behind Thatkar making the man leap in sheer startlement. A few cries from the guests rang out unfettered.
Shauryaman’s face was hard now— gone was that mischief playing hide and seek in that glazed eyed stare, that slightly stupid demeanor of a rakish alcoholic trust fund baby had turned into a vicious macabre rage of a viper poised to strike.
“Shut your trap and come and stand here. I have had enough of your nonsense. Mind you, that was not an accident. I hit the glass on purpose. I can shoot your throat out from his distance just as well.”
There were people shifting in the background and yet no one knew why the hotel security hadn’t come rushing in, even after there was a clear gunshot sound reverberating in the room.
Money..oh god, money could do such wonders—
Adarsh walked around the floor, the barrel of the gun following him and stepped up to stand in front of Shauryaman who was staring at him like his mere gaze would light the man up in flames.
“I have waited for so long to do this..you couldn’t imagine. All this drama, sucking up to Braganza, Soma Mittal’s murder, the fucking permit plans, everything just so I could pull you out of the snake hole you had curled inside”, the man rasped, hand remarkably steady.
Adarsh was staring at him piercingly.
“I have no idea what you are speaking about..”, he said finally.
“Of course you don’t. It doesn't matter. I have everything I need to expose your lie to the world—”
“My lie?”
“You are a monster, Adarsh Thatkar. The man behind this mask of piety and goodness and the sheer level of depravity you have your claws in would disgust the fucking devil—”
“You are delusional. What are you—”
“Nandita, my darling, please open your mobile and see the video I just sent you—”, the sudden non sequitur by Shauryaman had thrown everyone out of the loop for a second.
Nandita Kothari almost jumped out of her skin as she fumbled with her mobile.
She had barely gone through ten seconds of whatever video she was watching before turning alarmingly green at the gills and stopping it.
“What! What was that?”
Adarsh snapped, as the editor stared at him in utter incomprehensible nauseating revulsion. The expression on her pretty face had twisted in an ugly disgust.
“That..was the trailer. Only a fraction of the videos I have. I will make sure it reaches all the right places, don’t you worry about that”, Shauryaman replied, grinning like the devil reincarnated himself.
“What the fuck are you harping about!”Adarsh snapped, irritated.
“You thought you were so fucking protected that you lost your vigilance there at the end, didn’t you, Thatkar? All the women you raped? The Nymph— those high end escorts you sold to your highest bidders after promising the women a place in the bollywood tinsel town? The classic hook! The video of their sexual favors that you stored as blackmail to trap them in your hellscape?”
The blood was draining off Adarsh Thatkar’s face as Shauryaman kept going.
“You thought no one would dare cross you. Not the hotel managers you kept fed, not the police whose pockets you warmed, not the businessmen whose logistics and transport and money channels you used, not the judges and doctors you had scared into compliance, not the fucking innocent women you used and abused and left for dead like yesterday’s trash.”
Shauryaman’s voice hadn’t picked up in volume for even a second and yet the words seemed to bang like the gavel of an empty courtroom in the hall. The pulsating silence was so loud that it was making everyone’s ears bleed.
“Well, guess what, genius. They all betrayed you. The hotel managers and police and businessmen only needed someone who could pay them more. The witnesses only needed someone who would hear them and could protect them. And your so called political partners— fuck, they just needed one fucking chance to jump ship!”
There was a very visible vein pulsing at Adarsh’s temple. The man was bursting with rage and it was painfully obvious.
“You little fucker! You have no idea whom you are dealing with! I could have you torn to shreds and your corpse hung from the fucking rafters and no one would bat a single eyelash!”, the once smooth politician was gone under the sudden exposure of a base demonic revelation.
The audience watched spellbound at the ugly transformation of that handsome face.
“You!”, Shauryaman waved his gun once and laughed aloud, “you are nothing, Adarsh Thatkar. You are fucking finished. Who the hell do you think gave the soundbite about Swandive to the media?”
Nandita looked baffled but before she could intercept, another loud and brash voice boomed in terrible rage from aside.
“You bloody fucker! You let those nosey vultures inside my club!”
Tony Braganza was fuming like a mountain bear, eyes almost red in wrath.
Shauryaman only gave him a half hearted salute with the gun.
“You must forgive me, sir. The only way I could get the news about the permit plans to the media was by exposing the club. I knew the dominos would fall till the land corruption cases would start getting unearthed one by one. The several tenders that Mr. Thatkar forced his father to help set up his illegal businesses and as gifts to his very rich friends— that was the only way. And had the land deals not been exposed, how would your own party members agree to a defection?”
Adarsh was so red by now he was almost blue. The last part of his monologue had made the former’s eyes almost forced out of his skull in a ludicrous mercurial shock.
“What the absolute fuck are you talking about?”, he hissed like a cobra.
“Oh yes, sorry. That. You seriously didn’t think, I would come after you without breaking the shield of political amnesty and power you enjoy? If that were the case, I would have destroyed you ten years ago. One cannot hope to bludgeon a fortress without smashing through the outer walls.”
“You are lying!”
“Oh am I? Try and call them then, or better yet, switch on the news. I am sure its trending by now—”
Half of the audience already had their mobile phones on, staring at the screens in wide eyed wonder.
“As of seven thirty this evening, Mr. Madhav Shirke and forty two other members of the ruling party have deserted and are sequestered at a hotel. In these conditions, it is imminent that a mid session election would be due and the opposition leaders might jump at the chance to dismantle the existing government.”
The news anchor was saying as they continuously showed the names of the party members who had defected. The silence of the hall was broken by the smashing sound of Adarsh Thatkar throwing his phone at the wall in uncontrolled anger.
“You little motherfucking cockslut couldn’t have done something of this stature!”, the older man was spitting in a maddened temper now.
Shauryaman had removed the gun from his target by now, using it more like a prop than a weapon and only leaned back, a look of absolute chilling calm on his usually expressive features.
“Oh no, you are right, I don’t have that kind of pull. But, you surely remember, Justice PV Chaudhary? Yes.. the man whose wife you molested and then blackmailed the judge into letting your relatives out of a murder charge?”
He gestured towards his side where a middle aged man was standing with a champagne flute held to his lips. His eyes were flashing murderously at the politician and by the satisfied way he swallowed the bubbly and levelled a half hearted grin at him, everyone knew this was the so proclaimed, Justice Chaudhary.
If the guests had thought the shocks would have subsided by now, they were clearly mistaken. Adarsh Thatkar had gone stupendously pale all of a sudden.
It made something warm and satisfying curl in the icy rage that had been burning since at eternity in Shauryaman’s chest.
“What you didn’t know was Chaudhary ji is very good friends with Madhav Shirke— the man whom your father sidelined in the party to favor his own useless son. All he needed was a man who could light the match so that he could fan the flames.”
And it was very clear who had lit the match in this case.
“Now either your party members will join Shirke to form the government with the opposition in alliance or their loyalty to a man whose son had embroiled them all in this mess would have them commit political harakiri. What do you think would happen, Thatkar?”
From the look of slowly ascending fear in Adarsh’s face, Shauryaman knew he had hit the nail head on. No one would lie down on the road to save the skin of a man who would be exposed for criminal activities and rather be at the crosshairs of public outrage.
It was hilarious how in this country, the media trials always mattered more than what could be proved at court.
“You have nowhere to run. Nandita’s channel would release all the videos for the public to see. The opposition party headquarters will receive an anonymous package full of documentary evidence of your corruption and the money you funded into NGOs that only circled back to your own shell companies. By the time the courts call in, you would be scorched alive in public. Your political career is over and your personal life— oh I would make it hell.”
There was a dark look crossing Shauryaman’s face that would have once scared him to even catch a glimpse of in the mirror.
Now, it was the only truth he had allowed to escape from the tight control he still had on himself.
His trigger finger had been itching since the past five minutes.
“You..you wouldn’t dare—”, Adarsh spluttered but there was none of that bluster and arrogance left in his voice.
“Oh watch me”, Shauryaman snarled and opened his lockscreen and turned it towards him, keeping the gun levelled on his face, once again, “See this? The number of your wife. The woman you supposedly love so much you made a whole monument in the state garden in her name? I have sent that video, Nandita watched just now, to her. I am sure you will need a good divorce lawyer in the upcoming months.”
It was not a shakedown.
It was a massacre.
And that was evident by the completely bloodless face of his victim staring gobsmacked and slaughtered without a single scratch on his body.
Revenge was sweet sweet poison.
“Hah! I would have actually liked you kid. You have a ruthless streak a mile wide, a kind of deplorable meanness that surpasses some of my best men, but you shouldn’t have used me to get to that buffoon. Now, I will have to kill you—”
It was Tony Braganza whose chilling words finally broke the uncomfortable silence of the room. Shauryaman looked at the unofficial don of Mumbai and just cracked a half smile. It had a strangely unnerving sting to it.
“Not for the lack of trying, Braganza. It was your man who tried to kill me that day. The police have him and I have it on good authority that he has led him to your pet, Rags Chotan. They are cracking down on the drug kingpin as we speak.”
Braganza’s face was a mask of stone but his eyes were burning magma.
“You seriously think Chotan will flip on me?”, he challenged with a dangerous hiss.
“No. He wouldn’t. Not because of loyalty or fear. Because he is dead.”
This time, Tony’s indomitable expression finally cracked.
“Impossible”, he snarled.
“It is the truth, Mr. Braganza. Your right hand man is dead and all your allies have been sent irrefutable proof that it was you who had him killed. In your business, I suppose trust is invariably linked to support. No one is going to take the fall for you again.”
“Am I supposed to believe you had Chotan killed?”, the don scoffed in disdain.
“Not at all. The police killed him in an encounter. I may have greased some pockets but who is to say that is the truth. The DIG had jumped ship with Madhav Shirke and all he needed was a good vacation fund. But I think you deserve to know who it was, who made sure all the workings of your gang and Chotan’s warehouse got leaked to the cops—”
Tony was gnashing his teeth and the scar over his face seemed to throb with every passing second.
“Maria!”, Shauryaman called and a young blonde woman came out from the opposite end of the hall.
She was staring hatefully at Tony as the latter’s eyes bulged out of his sockets.
“This bitch!?”, he screamed.
“Yes. This bitch whom your friend employed in The Nymph and then gifted to you. This bitch whom you had been using as a showpiece for your depraved fantasies and occasionally let out for your guests to cope a feel? In all the long years of your reign of terror, how does it feel to get defeated because of this bitch, Mr. Braganza?”
Shauryaman would never forget the dead eyed look in Maria Kastnova’s blue eyes when he had smacked her ass that day in the garden all those months ago. He had contacted her shortly after and proposed a plan to spy on the don and in return he would make sure to get her passport back so that she could go back to her home in Ukraine.
The girl had been in near tears in gratitude and ablaze with her new mission to destroy the monster who had her trapped.
“I may have focused on Adarsh a little more Braganza but not to worry I hadn’t forgotten you. You are also going to jail for a very long time. Your fraud associated with the properties in the land corruption case and several accounts of murder and human trafficking charges will be added on. Enjoy your time grinding the chakki in Tihar.”
The ensuing calm was a trapped pressure over a powder keg about to blast. Tony’s bodyguards were blocking most of him from the clear line of sight but they seemed posed to start firing at Shauryaman on a moment’s notice.
One could hear someone swallow in distress.
“You have crossed your limits, boy. You think a mere prison will hold me back? I will get bail faster than you can blink and then I will kill that bitch first and then I will take my sweet time with you and have you beg for death before I grant it.”
The derision in the old gangster’s eyes was a revolting thing to behold, especially the way he was looking at him like a starving rabid hound does to a piece of meat.
But Shauryaman only grinned at him.
“Oh but you are not going to get to the court. Sorry, did I forget to mention that? The money trail of your human trafficking business went through the hawala network. There is irrefutable proof that you have been funding terror organizations in Pakistan and Afghanistan for years. You will be charged with the UAPA act. You are never getting bail.”
Tony Braganza blasted with an almighty roar and would have leaped the distance to reach Shauryaman and strangled him to death had there not been sudden arms trapping him and his struggling bodyguards back.
A sudden influx of plainscloth men no one had even noticed had jumped from the shadows and was dragging a raving Braganza away as he kept shouting curses.
“I may have forgotten to mention the NIA and IB agents who were shadowing you since the moment you entered the party. I am sure they will treat you nicely if you answer their questions..”, Shauryaman said pretentiously as Braganza was forcefully pinned to the ground by a tall officer.
“You need to work on that flair for the dramatics, Shaurya”, Akshat Chillar said, shaking his head in exasperation even if there was a little fond smile on his charming face.
“Sorry, skill issue”, Shauryaman replied with a small quirk of his lips.
“Why?”
The subdued whisper made Shauryaman face his original perpetrator again.
The man was standing upright but most of his pride was lying in pieces on the floor. It was a beautiful sight.
The fisherman finally hooked on his own bait.
It was poetic almost.
Why..
One word.
And yet Shauryaman had guarded the answer jealously close to his decaying heart for ten long years. It was so easy to lay out his machinations bare in front of the world, yet how can he tear out his own regrets and throw them in the light for everyone to judge and stare.
How more can they judge you anyway?
“Kumud”, he said almost reverently.
“What?”, Adarsh asked quizzically.
“Kumud Dave”
A sudden crashing sound had Shauryaman turn towards the source and realised he had completely forgotten about the rest of the spectators of the hall.
Arjun Mehra’s face was chalky white.
He was staring at Shauryaman like he had seen a ghost.
Good.
The ghost of the woman who had haunted him for years should claw out the insides of another man who had failed her so miserably. It was high time for him to share the reckoning that he had been facing alone for the past decade with the man who was just as responsible as everyone else.
Adarsh’s face had twisted in confusion.
It made something ugly rear inside Shauryaman’s heart.
“You don’t remember her…”, he whispered.
“Who is she? How am I supposed to know her?”, Adarsh asked tiredly.
“A million dollar question. She was forgotten by everyone. The courts, the perpetrators, the media— lost in the hundreds and thousands of people who never mattered in the grand scheme of things constructed by greedy men like you… and me.”
Shauryaman leaned against the edge of the bar now, needing the strength to stand upright as he laid the final piece bare. He could feel Meenakshi sidle closer to him and for a strange second, wanted nothing more than to hide himself in the crook of her fragrant neck.
He hadn’t mustered the courage to see her face yet.
“Let me tell you all a story till we wait for the police at least—”, he began with the flourish of a magician recounting a lost tale from his bag of tricks.
“Kumud Dave was a young woman lost in the streets of Mumbai like any other working girl of her social class. She lived in the chawls of Parel with her husband. She was nothing extraordinary— not too beautiful, not too smart, nothing much to remember her by. But she had the best, the fucking worst quality of all. She had heart. She was kind. She was kind to everyone, the street dogs in the colony, the tenants sharing her living space like ants inside an anthill, the station master she met every morning, the security guard of the call center she worked for, the plants neglected in the office space of her superiors. She was unfailingly, unflinchingly kind. And brave. So fucking brave that it cost her, her entire life at the end.”
Shauryaman stopped to collect his thoughts and maybe a bit of his breath as well, the sickening ache of remembering those soft features on that round face lined with curly hair and those desperate helpless eyes, begging him— begging for at least one person to understand.
He could see Arjun’s eyes were blurring with every word he was speaking and it only made that savage satisfaction in his heart crow in dark delight.
He wanted him to hurt— to hurt just as badly as he had for the past ten fucking years of his miserable existence.
“You see, Kumud’s only fault was when she accidentally happened upon a conversation on her line because of a rare cross connection that detailed the plan for trafficking girls from her area to a posh locality in Andheri. She thought it was her moral duty as a citizen to report it. She went to her superiors and was shot down. But that didn’t deter her. She went to the police and they harassed her and sent her back. One would think, now she would let it go but no— not kind and brave, Kumud Dave. She went to the one person she thought had more power than the police and would actually help her—”
Shauryaman turned his vision to Adarsh whose face had turned an alarming hue of grey.
“You.”
“The great Adarsh Thatkar who keeps special office hours to listen to the woes of the common man. Unfortunately for poor foolish Kumud Dave, she had gone straight to the lion’s den. What did you do then, Mr. Thatkar? Do I have to remind you?”, he snarled with every bit of rage that had sedimented inside his heart for years together.
Adarsh made an aborted movement but didn’t let out a single sound.
“You raped her. You raped her till she bled and dumped her on the street for the dogs to eat. But Kumud was brave. She crawled to a hospital. And survived that horrible traumatic experience. But unfortunately for her, you had also given her something else. She was pregnant. Her husband, the vicious demonic worthless piece of abusive shit, decided she should abort. But remember, Kumud was kind. She couldn’t bear to kill a life even if that only brought painful memories back. Thus began the torture— the constant abuse both physical and mental. It would have killed anyone but not Kumud who was brave.”
He could clearly hear a sob coming from somewhere and knew that it was Mitali Mittal. The woman had been clutching onto her son quietly with the desperation of a drowning mother clinging to her last remaining child.
“So Kumud persevered and gave birth to a child. A lovely little girl. She named her Kritika. Kumud’s husband hated both mother and child. He had fallen in with a bad crowd and gathered enough attention for the local ruffian to take him in his gang. One day, drunk out of his mind, the husband let slip that the child belonged to Adarsh Thatkar. What he didn’t know was that the information would crawl up the grapevine to reach Tony Braganza’s ears. Braganza in turn used it as leverage."
The hall was completely silent, only the sounds of Mitali’s sniffles breaking the vacuum like atmosphere. Everyone seemed to hang on to his every word.
Like he was some messiah directing a herd of sheep towards a blurred paradise.
It was a sickening twisted parody that made him want to hurl.
But he carried on because this was a puss filled wound that would never scab over unless all the rotten fluids are pressed out, no matter how much it hurts.
“One would think the next plan of action would be to get rid of mother and child— right? But no..you, see you are a businessman first and foremost. And so you told Kumud to join The Nymph. She will get paid more than she ever has even collectively in the call center job for one night. Kumud wanted to refuse because who would want to sell their soul to monsters? But remember, Kumud was kind? She had to raise her daughter because her useless alcoholic wastrel of a husband definitely didn’t help. So she agreed. Everything was fine and dandy right? But no, your greed is endless—”
Shauryaman had straightened from his laconic position, his cool voice slowly heating under the broiling pressure of years of careful restraint.
“You set your sights on her two year old daughter. Your daughter! A toddler barely— but they sell higher, don’t they?”
There was a choked gasp this time closer and he knew it was his wife. That enviable iron control seemed to have faltered finally.
“No..”
But it was Arjun Mehra’s quiet whisper of horror-stricken denial that had Shauryaman whipping across, the repressed wrath exploding out like a mushroom cloud over dried earth.
Gone was that amiable look of a basking snake and it was taken over by a hysteric anger that could only be borne from extreme despair.
“Yes! You didn’t even listen! You fucker holier than thou savior of the masses, didn’t even care to fucking listen to me!”, he spat at his former mentor and watched him shrink back.
“Don’t…”
Adarsh Thatkar seemed to have finally found his voice, shuddering in lightning anger but to no avail because the dam had crumbled at last and words were spilling out with the force of a furious river, that no manmade power could hope to stop.
“Shut the fuck up!”, the younger man snarled with such viciousness that Thatkar almost took a step back.
“You employed that good for nothing husband of hers to get the child for you. Your own fucking daughter, you sick fuck. And poor brave Kumud knew she couldn’t match up to a fully grown man’s physical strength and thus could only hope to defend her child in the only way she knew. She killed the kindness in her heart and plotted. She poisoned the monster and then stabbed his dead body over and over again, creating a scene of intense struggle, wrecking the room for a conviction of self defense.”
He had walked down the stairs to reach Adarsh now, loathed to miss the minutest details of alarm and fear on the latter’s face when he was forced to realise that he had lost. That Shauryaman had smashed him down to smithereens and that he will never be able to stand back up again.
“But Kumud wasn’t the brightest bulb in the room, was she? She only wanted to save herself and her two year old girl. So she hid the fucking poison in her own backyard, buried the hastily wiped empty bottle in the soil. The police didn’t care and didn’t find it. And then came, Mr. Arjun ‘Ikka’ Mehra, the defender of the weak—”
Shauryaman turned to Arjun who had his hands over his face.
“I admit, I hadn’t cared much for the pro bono cases the firm took on and in particular I didn’t want to spend my evenings on the other side of a holding cell talking to a plain looking boring woman who may have killed her own husband. But I was the intern— it was my fucking job to gather the information. Big fucking mistake—”
Shauryaman couldn’t stop the laugh that came out at the end there. His throat was closing up dangerously with an emotion he dared not express in such raw exposure.
“Kumud….she used to sing. This low humming that sounded like something straight out of a dream. But it was always quiet, like she was terrified of opening her mouth too much, to put pressure on her lungs— terrified of the world that had destroyed her. But even after everything— the assault and the hellhole her life had become and the murder she committed to save her daughter, the separation from her— Kumud was still kind and brave. She would..”, he swallowed hard, the words peetering out before Shauryaman shook his head and cleared his throat.
“..she would joke about me having to spend my time in a jail cell and how I was too young to do all this. I used to get irritated at how she looked at me like I was a child she needed to shield. But she..had a way about her. She reminded me of my mother— timid but kind and brave.”
Harshvardhan Gaur let out a single low and strangled sound. Shauryaman could see Nandita recording everything, eyes shuttling between everyone like a tennis ball being thrown about. The news channels are going to have a field day with this.
“Anyway, I was convinced we could get her out of the bind. Ikka was a maestro in appealing to the court’s sympathy. But it was me—”, this time the hatred was levelled at himself and it was crystal on his chiselled face drawn off blood.
“It was me who was so blinded by my own ambition, this relentless drive to prove myself to people who never cared much about me, that had me getting too involved in the police investigation and accidentally discovering the fucking bottle. The pieces fell neatly and I knew— it was a premeditated murder— culpable homicide with intent! The court would have never let her go.”
Meenakshi was leaning on the edge of the bartop now, and Shauryaman met her eyes for the first time. Her dark orbs were glistening with an emotion he couldn’t decipher but what he said next— only the judgement flashing in those eyes would matter to him in any way.
So he had to see it, if only to let the sword dig in deeper.
“I confronted Kumud. She broke down and spilled everything. I was terrified. Aditya Thatkar.. I knew of you, what you could do, the reach you have. Suddenly the lack of media coverage on the case made sense, the police getting so early to the scene of crime, the refusal of the judge to grant bail— everything made sense. I was terrified that if Kumud got convicted, she wouldn’t live to see the next day. So I did what I thought was best.”
Another filthy truth that he had thought would never see the light of day.
“I buried the evidence. I broke the bottle and dissolved the pieces”
He waited with bated breath but there was no emotion flashing in his wife’s bright gaze. He swallowed hard and turned away to put his focus back on Adarsh who had his fists balled him in an ugly defiance.
“What I hadn’t anticipated was your spies following everyone around, including me. I was exposed. All you had to do was sit on your chair and keep pulling the fucking strings. And my boss..”, he looked at Arjun whose face was so starchy white it almost looked translucent.
“The righteous godly Ikka couldn’t bear to let one misdemeanor slide because his morals were more important than an innocent life. No, his principals mattered so much more than justice. The Purushottam Maryada of the justice system cared so much about the fucking law that he was completely blind to the obvious truth. And deaf to anything I was speaking.”
“Shaurya..I.. I didn’t—”, Arjun began, all that heavy nobility from his tone and that triumphant glow had transformed into a stilted anxious regret that felt like lead on Shauryaman’s tongue.
“What? Know? You didn’t know? Of course you fucking didn’t know because you refused to fucking listen! I begged you. I shattered my pride and my fucking ego and was literally on my knees—”, his voice broke at the sheer volume with which he had screamed suddenly, shocking the mute spectators into recoiling.
“I only wanted you to let this one go. One fucking case and then you could have me disbarred. It was not for the fucking job, you fucking moron. I have more money than I know what to do with, I didn’t need the fucking job. I liked being a lawyer, yes, but I didn’t need it. All I needed was for one fucking person to fucking listen!”
Shauryaman’s eyes were wild, resembling a cornered wild creature who was ready to bite anyone even grazing close— whether friend or foe.
“I told you that the judge wouldn’t listen to reason here. I knew he was fucking paid off. The stupid system you were trying to uphold would never fucking work because no one cares, except you. The system that allows criminals to get scot free on technicalities will never listen to a poor woman who has no political connections or bribe money. But you refused. You got me fucking disbarred and every testimony I had painstakingly gathered was thrown out. And then you very conveniently removed yourself from the case citing mistrial and personal bias excuses and a public defender who was clearly paid by this monster”, he pointed at Adarsh, “took it on.”
“Shauryaman..”
“No. You listen to me. You will have to listen to me. I promised Kumud that she would get out, I promised that she would see her daughter again and water the stupid plants and greet the stupid security guard and feed the stupid street dogs again. I promised her because I had faith in you! They threw her in jail— life imprisonment under section 302. The judge threw the fucking case away. I couldn’t even contest because the fucking bar took my license. And then you took my girlfriend too.”
Shauryaman was heaving by the end of his bitter diatribe.
He had flayed himself alive only for the truth to get out and by the sour faces twisting in the audience, he knew very well no one was particularly impressed at being revealed in such a way.
These people have manipulated the very system he was raging against.
Good.
Let them sneer.
He will tear everyone down if need be.
“You did all of this because of a fucking call girl?”, Adarsh Thatkar blew up suddenly, looking at him like he had grown three heads. Like the very thought of it was completely ludicrous.
It only made Shauryaman curl his lips in a near violent and malicious amusement.
“Yes. I did it for a fucking call girl. Because that girl was a human too who had dreams of her own that were squashed under the feet of lecherous greed and lust of men like us. Oh it wasn’t fucking easy. The first three months all I could do was wallow in my own self pity, blind drunk with heartbreak and the sheer fucking humiliation. I didn’t even care for what was happening to Kumud in jail. Or who was taking care of Kritika. I left them alone too. And then one fine day, her grandmother calls up to inform Kumud is dead. The authorities said she committed suicide in her cell.”
Shauryaman turned around and walked back to the bartop and snatched a file from over the ledge and turned the pages open almost violently.
“You want to know the details of the way she had killed herself?”
Then he turned the file around and they were just blank empty sheets.
“Oh wait, I can’t show because the fucking autopsy reports were burned down. But I remember the details. I will never forget them as long as I fucking live. Spatial injury to spine between vertebrae L3 to L5, repeated blunt force trauma to the pelvic bone, hemorrhaging from injury to large intestine, both ulna’s snapped clean, blood loss from chunks of meat torn from inner thighs, cranial fracture, thoracic injury at T12, signs of severe damage to the mons pubis—”
Shauryaman would have gone on like a high speed record if Leena Sahani hadn’t shrieked in between.
“Stop! Stop please.. Please, I can’t..”
“No, listen. You more than anyone, Mrs. Sahani. Because what your illustrious husband does to people he thinks he owns, comes close second—”
“What the—”
“Shut up and let me speak. Do these look like suicide wounds to you? The funniest part was there was no collection of any DNA samples, no signs of external struggle, no eye witnesses, and apparently no outside entry in a women’s jail!”
Shauryaman slammed the gun down on the desk with a cracking force, definitely rattling most people’s teeth.
“The police wrote a bogus report and if that wasn’t fucking hilarious, someone stole the fucking body from the morgue before her grandmother could even see her face for the last time and dissolved the remains in a vat of acid. I didn’t even have time to collect any evidence”
There was a retching sound from somewhere and most people had turned slightly green at the gills. It was a horrifying macabre and graphic tale that was being recounted with such savage delight that it was almost psychopathic.
Shauryaman suddenly deflated and crossed his arms against his chest, looking slightly defensive for the first time since he had started telling this horror story.
“But even that wasn’t the most shocking part. It was when I trailed the melted remains of Kumud’s body into a chemical plant at the outskirts of the city. Imagine my surprise when I dig into the ownership papers and find the name of my company.”
The twists in the tale seemed enough to give everyone a nasty whiplash and if Shauryaman was lucky the guests who had simply gathered to act as the recess for the strange trial of one Adarsh Thatkar, wouldn’t send him their therapy bills.
“The facility was owned by a subsidiary of Gaur Constructions. I refused to believe it. Till I found the money trail. And discovered every other factory and plant and bridge and industrial area and real estate that we have ever made in the past thirty years have all been used in some illegal activity or the other. And there was only one signature common to all these projects.”
Shauryaman gestured almost brightly at Prakhar Sahani who was slowly turning a ridiculous shade of crimson.
“Our CEO, Mr. Prakhar Sahani. For years, the man had duped the board and my gullible father and has taken his cut from these illegal land acquisitions and wonky business deals. Ahh, Mr. Braganza, you did tell me that you approached my father and got rebuffed—”, he turned towards the sour-faced gangster who had been neatly handcuffed by Akshat and was trussed up by the plainscloth intelligence officers surrounding him and his men.
The older man sneered at Shauryaman like a monstrous giant.
“What you forgot to mention was that you had also approached Prakhar and had brokered a deal with him. Imagine the irony of the fact. I was stumped. I couldn’t go to the police, they would only listen to their political masters, I couldn’t go to the media without any proof— all they know me as is a trust fund brat who has more money than sense. I couldn’t even take help from anyone in my own company— who knew how many were working for Sahani.”
“Lies. I have heard enough of your idiotic self centered bad mouthing, boy. I have protected you for years against the board that tried to kick you off, protected you from your own father’s ire more times than I can count and this is how you repay me. I even forgave your wife’s stupid act, only to get dragged into the mud!”
Prakhar screamed, his handsome features twisting in horrendous rage. He had left Harshvardhan’s side and was approaching Shauryaman confidently, eyes coated in an uncharacteristic slimy derision that had completely transformed the man’s usual serene geniality.
Exactly what Shauryaman had expected.
Let the world see the monster behind the man.
“Protection? Please…I have worked for years to get proof of your deception, Sahani. I wouldn’t hedge a bet against me. Why do you think I made Javed Khosla walk away? Why do you think I threw away the Surat deal and the AMNS deals?”
The older man had stopped midway, a frown twisting severely on his perplexed face.
“Adani..”, Meenakshi’s voice startled him.
She had been so utterly silent throughout that he had almost forgotten about her.
Meenakshi was pinching the bridge of her shapely nose. The realisation seemed to have hit her slow but hard.
“I knew I was missing something. The deals you threw off, they went to the Adani group. I thought it was just a coincidence. But Javed Khosla joined their board after three months of leaving here. It was planned, wasn’t it? Khosla knew about Sahani’s corruption. He had proof, so you turned him. You let him jump ship before it sunk—”
Shauryaman tilted his head in silent acceptance and felt something bright bloom in his chest. He shouldn’t have underestimated his wife’s sharpness.
The woman has masterminded more acquisitions and takeovers in her career of ten years than the times that he has seen the inside of his own office building.
Prakhar’s face had gone white in quite a cartoony way.
“No.. no he..you..”, he stammered.
Shauryaman smirked at him.
“I did. You are done. The police have the necessary evidence to throw you in jail for a very long time. And don’t think you can come out that easy— I have it on good authority that your bail has been set sky high and all your assets are frozen as of..”, Shauryaman looked at his watch, “..two minutes before. What timing the ED has..”
“What fucking nonsense are you on about?”, Prakhar took out his mobile as had several of the board members who were in attendance.
Nandita was typing furiously on her mobile screen, looking more animated by the second.
Harshvardhan had collapsed on a seat and was looking a little gobsmacked and lost, barely able to hold himself upright.
“It is funny how much one can achieve when people think they lack the brains to do so”, Shauryaman said pleasantly and dropped the hands off his chest and tucked them inside his pockets.
His fingers had started trembling. But he would not let Prakhar fucking Sahani see it. Never again.
“You see, when you were borrowing from the market, your debt was increasing which did give our company the tax shield benefit, but unfortunately for you, the benefit of the same debt— the revenue generation should have been more than we were borrowing. All I had to do was inflate the numbers of the revenue generated every quarter.”
Every word was making the board members in attendance appear paler by the next syllable.
Shauryaman grinned like a shark having scented blood in the water.
“Gentlemen, you are all bankrupt. Gaur Constructions is finished. The board will have to pay the creditors or else, all of your estates will be taken away, your collateral confiscated and you all could be jailed and fined as well. The corruption charges would stick, I will make sure of it.”
The silence only remained for a precious second before there was an uproar and the few board members started barking in their phones, probably with their lawyers before the market opens tomorrow and their shares crash.
Only Prakhar Sahani remained almost paralysed with shock.
“You.. you bankrupted your own company?”, he whispered incredulously.
“Oh no, I was kicked out, remember? It's not my company anymore. I don’t have to pay anything to the investors. When I contacted the ED, I had made a deal— my father and wife will be excused their dues and in return I will surrender all the documentary evidence needed to sink all of you. It's all very simple, really.”
“It was your father’s company you fool! Your grandfather’s dream— you ruined your own legacy and for what? Petty revenge for someone who didn’t even belong to you?”, Prakhar shouted, spittle flying from his mouth in a crazed panic.
“Legacy? This viper pit of corruption and hedonistic crime? No, my legacy died with my mother. My legacy was twisted in depravity the moment they made you the boss, you sick, traitorous, murderous, pedophilic rat bastard!”
Shauryaman felt the slowly bubbling grief and agony from the past twenty years of his life surge up in an icy blizzard of rage.
He could strangle the life out of Prakhar Sahani and not change a shade.
The deep seated terror of a twelve year old Shauryaman was suddenly lost in the tsunami of vengeful ferocity.
“You thought you had scared me into silence and maybe for some years you had. I was so fucking terrified that the truth would get my father killed and the company lost that I kept my mouth shut and then Kumud came along. That poor, abused, tortured woman who had no one in the world had more courage than me or you or any fucking person in this useless room can ever dream of. And then I saw the mirage I was trying to protect— the empty vessel that had rusted from inside.”
“You think you have won! I still have videos, you brat. All it takes is one fucking click and the internet is merciless. The fucking media will rip you to shreds”, the older man laughed almost like in a parody of a poorly constructed b grade villain.
It was slightly sad how unbothered the threat made Shauryaman feel.
“Do it”, he said simply.
“What?”
“I said do it. The internet and the media has already labelled me with every twisted title they can conjure up. What do you think those videos will prove? All it will do is add the charge of statutory rape and pedophilia to your already overburdened chargesheet.”
This time, Harshvardhan’s cry of denial was sharp enough for Shauryaman to turn towards him in half alarm and half resignation.
Riddhiman was holding onto his father with a steady arm, his intelligent eyes burning with a sickening sympathy.
Harshvardhan’s once proud head was hanging on his chest and Shauryaman felt a stab in his chest for the first time in years.
He did essentially destroy his father’s company.
But he wouldn’t regret it.
He can’t.
He turned away before Harshvardhan could lift his head and give him that intense stare of disapproval.
“You killed my mother, Prakhar Sahani. My innocent mother, who had only wanted my father’s affection— you used that vulnerability and abused her and then blackmailed her into doing whatever you wished with her and when she finally broke and took her own life, the vultures tore down her character to suit their TRP ratings. I will never be able to charge you for that but I will make sure you do get your cummapence, one way or another. You. Are. Finished.”
Meenakshi’s presence was a hearth beside him. She had come up to stand beside him and he hadn’t even noticed. Her hand was a steady source of warmth on his cold hand and she was gripping him so tight, like she could single handedly hold his entire body upright if his knees decided to give way.
Prakhar was floundering and Shauryaman decided he was done with him.
The police and the courts would do the rest.
Justice Chaudhary had promised to keep the bastard in jail as long as he could. Till his reputation is completely ruined. Till there is nothing left to salvage— not for either of them.
Adarsh Thatkar was staring at him with that unnerving look again.
“I wish I could lock you up for Kumud Dave’s rape and murder but then again, you have destroyed all the evidence. Doesn’t matter— you will go down for everything else. I believe this is what we call, reckoning eh?”
Shauryaman had turned back when Adarsh spoke again, his voice a virulent, almost mirthful whisper.
“All this….and for what? To get arrested for murder, yourself? Soma Mittal— I assume you used the girl to get information on me and my network and then discarded her like used trash. Our crimes are not going to cancel yours. You will be jailed too, Shauryaman Gaur and that is a separate world. Think your pretty face will survive that?”
Shauryaman looked at him for a long second, mentally going over the consequences of his last act.
But then, it was all boiling down to this moment, wasn’t it?
Meenakshi’s hand had dropped off his arm and he missed the warmth immediately.
“I knew the only way any of this would come to the public view would be through a celebrity trial. No one would care about poor Soma Mittal had she been killed by some street thug. A small column in the third page of a local newspaper maybe…nothing more. But Shauryaman Gaur is accused of killing Soma Mittal? Oh that is national news material..isn’t it?”
He met Mitali Mittal’s eyes and saw her red rimmed orbs looking at him with a confused mixture of hate and awe and everything in between. Nikhil Mittal was looking down at his feet. The boy hadn’t made a single peep throughout the unfolding drama.
Madhura Banerjee looked shell shocked.
Arjun Mehra was still standing with his face buried beneath his hands.
Remorse was a beautiful look on his former employer.
“Mrs. Mittal— did you know your daughter was about to throw herself off the roof of a five star hotel, six months ago?”
Mitali Mittal’s shocked expression gave credence that she indeed, had not known that.
“I gave her a choice, either she could die like this and her family will forever question what had happened or she could die and take the man who is responsible for her ruin, right with her.”
“What nonsense…”, Madhura began, only for Shauryaman to stop her with a wave of his hand and an irritated look.
“God, you prosecutors cannot come out of your freaking roles for one goddamned second. Let me speak”
He turned to Mitali not letting Madhura counter him again.
“Madam, your daughter was a brilliant student but she also had other dreams. The kind that makes young women yearn for the stars in the city of dreams. She wanted to be in films, not as a CA accountant on an office floor. I am sure you weren’t a fan. In such times when parents refuse to support their kids, they look for alternative methods, making themselves vulnerable to the likes of Adarsh Thatkar and Tony Braganza. She was lured into working for The Nymph with the promise of arranging a meet with a famous bollywood producer. Unfortunately she fell into the same trap as Kumud.”
Mitali was shaking her head vigorously, denial clear in her eyes and the tip of her tongue but the sheer grief at losing her daughter had rendered the woman mute, or maybe the level of truth exposed today bore heavy on her mind.
Whatever it was, Shauryaman took pity on her.
“Don’t believe me? Fair enough— ask Nikhil. He knew it. Didn’t you?”
The boy looked up at him for once and then looked at his mother, guilt making his lips curl downward. Mitali let out a single cry and almost fell over. It was Madhura who kept her steady with a strong arm and gentle reassurances.
“You knew what your sister was doing. You also knew it could be dangerous but you let her do it— because that is how she could pay for all your expensive sports equipment and the tuition and coaching fees of the academy you are enrolled in. The scholarship you both told your mother you had received from the State, was fake, wasn’t it?”
Tears were rolling down Nikhil Mittal’s face and Shauryaman wanted to stop if only to spare the kid further grief. But it would be undeserved to let Soma’s fate and her struggle go unsaid when he had in a way used her to expose the entire conspiracy.
And then, he believed he could make up for it, in a way.
“That is why Adarsh Thatkar’s man could convince you to come and unload a barrel in me. He used your guilt and twisted it to suit his purpose and you played right into his hands like an idiot.”
Adarsh snarled, his patience finally expiring with a loud bang.
“Still doesn’t excuse you killing that woman does it? You are going down Gaur, right with the rest of us—”
“You would have killed her anyway, Thatkar. That is why you sent the goons behind her that day, didn’t you?”
“What?”
Madhura’s voice had him turn to her again and he winked at her, a little wickedly.
“Ahh yes, the footage that you received. I had sent it cut so that it only showed me trying to fight off the miscreants. I am sure our relentless media channels have already unearthed the entire thing. The camera had caught them trying to drag Soma into a car, after all.”
“But why would you— why didn’t you say that at court? And you sent that to Madhura?”
Arjun cried out, taking his face out of his hands finally, a spot of color on that bloodless face was evident from his offended surprise.
“Why do you keep forgetting that I wanted the trial to be public. I wanted the bread crumbs to reach the media. The defense showing a video wouldn’t get traction— not as much as the prosecution submitting it. It established validity. It's all in the narrative, Ikka. Try to keep up”, Shauryaman completed like he was speaking to someone particularly dumb.
He had expected Arjun to bristle at the clear slight but the latter seemed to have gone back into his shocked into inaction state.
“But you killed her! You killed my poor girl! Why! Why oh why! You did so much to avenge that girl— Kumud and you killed Soma? Why?”
Mitali’s cry was raw, the unadulterated grief of a broken mother wailing for respite.
Shauryaman stared at her calmly.
“I didn’t kill your daughter, Mrs. Mittal.”
The woman looked inconsolable and she almost tore her own hair out, clutching the disheveled strands in a white knuckled grip.
“Then who did? Who killed my daughter! Answer me! Someone—”
“No one killed your daughter, madam.”
“What? What are you even saying—”
Shauryaman raised an eyebrow and turned slightly towards the back, stretching his hand above towards the staircase in a strangely pointed way.
“No one killed your daughter, because she is alive.”
Soma Mittal took Shauryaman’s outstretched hand and walked down the staircase, her expression sombre and other than a thick bandage on the right side of her neck and a slight pallor to her skin, she looked completely, vibrantly, alive.
Disclaimer: This series is inspired by the 2025 movie Dhurandhar by Aditya Dhar. This is in no way meant to idolize the real people the movie is about; they are bastards, and this is just a fanfic for the appreciation of the movie and the lovely actors who brought the characters to life. SO TAKE A FUCKING CHILL PILL and enjoy <3
Author's Note: EVERYONE TAKE A DEEP FUCKING BREATH....and pray for Hamza....And Rehman's wallet :)
Chapter 18. Gehra hua aur Ghar wapsi
December 31 morning @ 10 am
Rehanna Randhawa’s Apartment, Hindu Colony, Lyari, Pakistan
“Bhenchod mai kya Pakistan post hun jo bar bar mujhe hi bhej dete hain Bhai?” Grumbled Uzair as he lugged a truly massive gift box up the stairs to the second floor of Rehanna’s walk up apartment. “Vakeel sahiba kyun is building me rehti hai?” he huffed as he stopped to catch his breath “Bhai unko itna paisa dete hain woh koi dhanki aur ameer building me nahi reh sakti?” he whined as he picked up the truly massive box once again. Eventually Uzair manages to drag the parcel to Rehanna’s door. He juggles the gift box in his arms as he raises his hand to ring the doorbell and then he waits.
—----------------------
Rehanna stayed. She doesn't understand why she stayed, but she stayed. Actually that's a lie, Rehanna knows exactly why she stayed. She had decided to stay as soon as she saw the look in Rehman’s eyes. Love. There was pure love in that look. It was a look that begged her to stay. It was a look that pulled at her heartstrings. It melted her resolve right there and then. That's why she stayed.
Thirty-one days ago he had fought with her, Rehman told her he hated her. Thirty-one days ago he had told her to get out of his haveli. Rehanna had been mad, she had been heartbroken. She had planned to never go back to him or speak to him again. But Rehman was not one to give up, Every single day he had been sending her gifts, letters, and flowers without fail. Everyday Rehman stood below her window just hoping for a glimpse of her. Rehanna destroyed the gifts everyday without fail. She burned the letters after reading them and committing them to memory, destroyed the gifts, and threw his flowers out the window.
Each day her anger melted, slowly but steadily. And everyday as the anger receded a deep aching sadness remained in her heart. Rehman told her he loved her. He had broken down in front of her door and told her he loved her and she wasn't able to say it back. It ate at her. Every moment of everyday she realized one tragic thing, any moment without him meant nothing to her.
She wasn't even mad at him when he fired her. She should be, but she wasn't. Because to Rehanna it made sense. For 25 days she had not responded to his advances in any way shape or form, she had ignored her work for him and had done none of her duties. After so much effort and no results she couldn't blame Rehman for giving up on her. She would have given up on herself a long time ago. She hated how her own pride and frigidness stopped her from accepting his apology. She wanted to forgive him so many times, but each time she saw him she just froze. To the naked eye she would have looked cold and indifferent, nobody saw how hard her brain and her heart were fighting inside of her.
Rehanna had fully prepared herself that night at the club. She had fully prepared herself for the very true possibility that this was the last time she was seeing Rehman. Nowhere in her craziest fantasies had she expected him at the high court the very next day. And before she could work up enough courage to swallow back her pride and tell him that she forgives him and that she loves him her feet had carried her away.
But Rehman had followed her. Like he knew that somehow she herself was unaware of what she was doing. The way he followed her it looked like he was willing to follow her to the ends of the earth. He had placed a letter on her windshield, woven in between the wipers so the letter wouldn't fly away. In that letter he had asked her for a last favor, he had asked her to stay until the thirty first of December. And Rehanna thanks whatever god exists that her brain didn't have enough time to fight her heart. She had looked at him and nodded, a simple yes. Yes she would stay.
But that was on the twenty-seventh of December. And today was the thirty-first. During the three days just passed Rehanna had received nothing from Rehman. Not a letter, not a note, and not even his daily ‘please forgive me’ gifts. It had been radio silence ever since she told him he would stay. Now it was 10 am on December thirty-first and there was still silence. Rehanna had been fidgety all day. She checked her phone every 10 minutes, she checked her mailbox 5 times, she kept opening her door again and again for no reason. She was going insane. She dropped her head into her hands
“Ughhh yaar what's wrong with me! Why am I obsessed with this man so much? Pagal banadiya hi mujhe yaar!” she groaned into her palms as she sank into her sofa. “Hmmm pyaar ki maa ki chu-” before she can finish her statement divine interruption makes her doorbell ring. Rehanna’s head flicks toward the door and her heart races at the possibility. It could be him. It could be Rehman. She forces herself to not break out into a sprint as she calmly walks to the door. She even waits by the door for a full 60 seconds to make it look like she wasn't some despo who was waiting by the door.
Her hand grips her dork knob as she unlocks the door. Her heart thrummed against her ribcage in anticipation. She finally undoes the last deadbolt as she swings open the door.
—----------------------
Uzair hears the locks un latch and he looks up from the box in his arms. Finally, Rehanna was opening the door and thank god for her timing because his arms were about to fall off. At this point he was sure Rehman had sent her cement cinder blocks in the gift box because why was it so heavy? Uzair smiles as he sees Rehanna “Aree Good morning Vakeel Sahiba!”
Uzair? It was Uzair?.....it wasn't her Rehaman? Rehanna tries her best to not let the disappointment show on her face “Oh- Baloch Sahab aap?” She opens the door wider for him. Thankfully Uzair does not seem to notice the expression on her face. He was too preoccupied with trying to make sure his arms didn't fall off. “Ayie ayiye andar ayiye” Rehanna backs away from the doorway to let Uzair in. Uzair smiles at her gratefully as he kicks off his shoes and walks into Rehanna’s house.
“Wah vakeel sahiba ghar aapne puri tarha se set karliya hai” he muses as he sets the heavy box on her coffee table with a thud. Uzair looks around with a heavy sigh and hands on his hips. Rehanna smiles at Uzair as she hands him a glass of ice cold water. “Ahh Farishta hain aap vakeel sahiba” he says gratefully as he gulps down the cold water to soothe his parched throat. “Areh nahi nahi aisa kuch nahi hai. Maine sirf paani pilya hai aapko” she chuckles as she motions for Uzair to sit down.
Uzair shakes his head no “Nahi nahi, pyaase ko pani pliana sirf ek farishte ka kaam hai. Aur mere paas baithne ka time nahi hai bhai ne meri gaand laga rakhi hai” Rehanna raises an eyebrow “Dakait sahab ne aapki gaand kyun laga rakhi hai?” she hums. “Aap ye dibba kholengi aur ye chitthi padhengi toh aapko shayad samajh me aajaega” Uzair pauses to pull a letter out of the pocket of his kurta he hands it to Rehanna.
Rehanna takes it from his hands. It's the same luxurious cardstock Rehman always uses. “Kuch toh event type ka lag raha hai kyunki bhai ne mujhe bola hai ki saara bandobas sahi se hona chahiye. Unhone bola ki 100-150 logon ka bandobas hona chahiye sahi se.” Uzair shakes his head with a weary sigh “Lekin unhone bola hai ki phele aapko ye parcel dena hai” he points to the massive gift box on her table.
“Event kya hai?” asks Rehanna with burning curiosity. Rehman wanted her to stay for an event? How strange. “ Areh kya kahun mai? Mai toh pooch pooch ke thak gaya hun. Sirf bhai aur khuda ko pata hai ki aaj shaam ko kya hone wala hai…” he trails off before continuing “Toh chaliye phir mai chalta hun, shaam ko milenge vakeel sahiba” Uzair smiles at her. Rehanna smiles back “ Ji haan shaam ko milenge” she hums as she shuts the door behind Uzair.
Rehanna locks her door and slowly turns around to look at the massive box on her coffee table. It's a cream white colored box with a navy blue ribbon wrapped around it in a big fluffy bow. She walks toward it as she turns Rehman's note over in her hands. The luxurious paper soft against her skin. Should she read the note first? Or should she open the box first? Note. Box. Note. box. Note. Box. Yes, the box first.
She tosses the note onto the table as her hands pull at the navy blue ribbon. The box falls open and a gasp pulls from Rehanna's throat. It's a whole outfit from head to toe along with jewels resting over the folded clothes. Oh my god the jewels. Rehanna falls to her knees to see the glittering jewels better.
The morning light catches on them and they refract against each other looking positively luminous. Her eye is caught immediately on the most showstopping piece of jewelry that was set in the center. A beautiful emerald and diamond encrusted necklace set in platinum gold arranged in beautiful floral motifs. The diamonds gather into flowers, flowers like the lotuses of her payals that she had ripped off during their fight. The emeralds gently cupping the flowers like leaves. The platinum gold gently holds the florets together and links them along with each other until they form a necklace.
Rehanna swallows hard as a shaky breath releases from her lips. Her fingers shake slightly as they trace the precious stones. There was no doubt on if the precious stones were real or not, with Rehman everything was real. She gently lifts the necklace in her hands and the sheer weight of it makes her whisper a “Oh my fucking god” into the air. She blinks hard as she looks at the earrings that go along with the necklace. Three pairs of earrings.
Rehman had sent three pairs of earrings that complimented each other because he had remembered that she has three ear piercings. The first lobe had diamond drop earrings, the diamond drop being another cluster of truly massive diamonds clustered as a lotus, cupped with emeralds as the lotus pad. It had chains of platinum that extended from the earrings so she could attach them to her hair to support the weight of the earrings. The second lobe had a small platinum hoop with a diamond dangling from it. The third lobe had an emerald stud.
Rehanna forces herself to breathe through the nose as she gently sets the earrings to the side. Heat runs through her body, she can feel it in her veins. Something warm pools in her belly as a flush creeps up her neck resting in her cheeks. The final piece of jewelry is a beautiful bracelet which held the same design as the necklace but smaller so it would fit on her wrist. Smaller diamond clusters that look like lotuses, emeralds as leaves, platinum linking it all together. Rehanna’s hands are shaking by now as she puts the jewelry down.
She was no stranger to expensive jewels. She loved expensive jewels. She wore diamonds and precious stones that she bought with her own money on a daily basis. Diamonds didn't phase her, platinum didn’t phase her, emeralds didn't phase her. But the sheer amount of each that she was looking at in front of her was astounding. The price must easily be in the 10s of lakhs. From her estimates the entire set; the necklace, the many pairs of earrings, the bracelet. Must cost around 40-50 lakhs. Half a crore. Rehman had sent her half a crore of jewels.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. OH MY FUCKING GOD!” she whispered as she shakily stood up and began pacing in her living room. What the fuck was wrong with that man? A choked laugh of pure surprise left her body. She collapsed a hand on her mouth as the other hand pushed her hair out of her face. Half a crore of jewels sat on her coffee table. She blinks as she takes a deep breath. Deep breath in 1,2,3,4,5. Long exhale 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8.
She gets down on her knees again to finally look at the clothes Rehman had sent her. She lifts away the gift tissue and throws it unceremoniously onto the ground. Another gasp leaves Rehanna’s mouth as she lifts the clothes out of the box. In her hands was a cream white A-line kurta, dupatta, and a lehenga. The kurta was pure mulberry silk embroidered with pure silver thread, the V-neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves along with the bottom edge of the kurta was ornately decorated with swirling embroidery and beadwork. The kurta itself was so ornately decorated that it was heavy in her hands. She set it down on her sofa as she lifted the dupatta out of the box next. A sheer chanderi silk dupatta that was embroidered along the edges with silver thread, not so ornate as to upstage the kurta but a beautiful piece of art on its own. She lay it next to the kurta as she lifted the final piece of the set out of the box. The white lehnga with plenty of gher, studded with beaded motifs across the entire fabric. Each of the pieces accentuated each other so perfectly it was painful.
Rehanna laid it on the sofa as she pulled the final item out of the box. White embroidered juttis that were just as beautiful as all the other pieces that were in that wonderful fucking box. Rehanna dropped the juttis to the ground as she looked at everything. The jewels, the clothes, the shoes. All of them are perfect for each other, like they were designed for each other. So ornate, so beautiful, so perfect, so expensive. What the fuck was going on? Why had Rehman sent her this?
Rehanna throws the empty box to the ground as she finds the note from Rehman again. Her hands grab it shakily as she rips open the wax seal. She can't stop herself from sniffing the paper. She can't stop herself from wanting to greedily inhale the traces of him he left on the paper. She can smell his cologne on it like he sprayed it onto the paper just for her. Smoky oudh, sandalwood, gunpowder, something green, and home. He smelt like home. Her hands unfold the note as she scans his surprisingly-neat-for-a-gangster urdu script.
“Sabha khair meri jaan, meri mohabbat,
Mai umeed karta hun ki Uzair zyada jaldi nahi aya. Mai jaanta hun, meri jaan, ki aapko der se sona pasand hai. Pehle toh mai aapka shukriyada karna chahata hun ki aap ruk gayi meri baat sunn ke. Aapkeliye asaan nahi raha hoga woh faisla lene ka, mai jaanta hun. Isiliye mai zindagi bhar aapka shukr guzar hun.
Mai jaanta hun ki maine ek aur aetihasic galti kardi aapko naukri se nikalne ki. Agar sach kahun toh mujhe lagah tha ki aap woh dekhengi aur apne khubsoorat gusse me merepas wapas haveli ayengi. Aur jaise hi aap aati phi mai maafi magleta aapse sahi se aur aap wapas ghar aajati. Lekin mai bhi chutiya hun. Kyunki aisa bilkul bhi nahi hua.
Meri jaan maine aapse ek aakhri ehsaan manga tha uss din highcourt pe. Aaj sham maine ek daawat rakhi hai, ek jashn rakha hai. Aur mai puri shiddat se aapki haziri mang raha hun. Kyunki aapki wajeh se mai siyasat me aaya, aapki wajeh se mai election jeeta. Aapki salha, dimag, quwat ya taqat, hunnar, aur aapke kahi saari khubiyan ke bina yeh kabhi nahi ho pata.
Ye jashn jitna mere siyasati taqat aur takht ke liye hai utna hi aapke hunnar aur khoobiyan ke liye hai. Mai umeed karta hun ki aap ek aakhri ehsan ke taur pe ayengi. Aur meri rooh, usse zyada mai umeed karta hun ke aap yeh zewar aur kapde pehnengi. Maine kisi aur ko apne oar se market nahi bheja yeh sab laane ke liye, maine inko apne haton se chunna hai aapke liye. Yeh zewar, ye gehne, yeh jutte….inko jaise hi maine dekha mere zehen me sirf ek baat ayi. Ye sirf meri jaan pe jachenge. Agar kisi aur ne inko chuya bhi toh phir inki tauheen hogi, aapke husn ki tauheen hogi. Yeh sirf aapke hain meri jaan.
Mai dua karta hun ki aap inko pehenke ayengi mujhse ek aakhri bar milne ke liye. Mai dua karta hun ki woh wakt jisme aap mujhse milengi mere dil aur dimag me rahengi hamesha hamesha ke liye. Mere zehen me chap jae woh sada ke liye.
Shaam ke paanch baje.
The Mansion Marquee Hall, Karachi.
Mai aapka intezar karunga meri jaan, meri mohobbat,
Aapka aur sirf aapka,
Rehman”
Rehanna can't stop the tears that drip from her cheeks at the words Rehman wrote for her. She couldn't burn this letter. She could never burn this letter. Rehanna stands in shock for a moment. Because he was so in love with her that he personally curated every single piece of clothing and jewellery. All for a last favor. All to see her one final time.
Rehanna was cruel and she knew it. But she wasn’t so cruel as to deny Rehman this. She would do as he asked. She would do him one last favour. For her as much as for him. Rehanna wipes her tears as she carefully sets down the note from Rehman. She gathers the clothes and jewels in her arms as she walks to her bedroom to start getting ready.
She places the clothes on her bed and the jewels on her dresser table carefully. Rehanna walks to her wardrobe to look for undergarments to wear with this beautiful outfit. She rifles through her underwear collection until something dark green and lacy catches her eye. For a moment she can’t believe she packed this when she rushed out of the haveli after their fight.
She pulls out the deep green lace lingerie from her underwear drawer. She holds it up in front of her. It’s the very same set that Rehman had gifted her on her birthday months ago. She remembers the way he uncharacteristically blushed when she questioned him about it. He brought her lingerie many times in the past just to rip it off of her animalistically later. But this set…. he had bought because it was his favourite colour. He wanted to see her in it.
She never got to wear it for him. Which was a real shame because it’s a beautiful piece. A lace balconette bra with tastefully sheer cups. Matching lace underwear with sheer soft netting along the gusset so it would be comfortable to wear instead of uncomfortable as hell. He really had chosen the set with love. A final favor. Rehanna would wear it today as a final favour. Not that Rehman would ever get to see it but at least she could say she wore it once. And with that she goes to her bathroom to take a shower.
—-------------------
Same day @ 5 pm
The Mansion Marquee, Karachi, Pakistan
Authors note: This is a real place in Karachi btw
Rehanna sighs wearily as she steps out of her sleek black Mercedes. She fluffs out the heavy lehenga as she steps out and tries not to trip and fall flat on her face. It was a skill on its own for her to drive across lyari and well into karachi wearing that heavy outfit. But finally she had arrived at the luxurious venue that Rehman had chosen for the political event he was holding. As she stepped out of the car a Valet sprinted to her at top speed as he buttoned his blazer. “Aslamwalaikum madam” He huffed slightly “aapki chabiyan?” he held out his hand to her expectantly. Rehanna dropped the keys of her mercedes into his waiting hands “Zara samhalke…ye gaadi meri jaan hai” The valet smiles at her love for her car “Ji madam aap chinta na karein mai isko apni jaan se bhi zyadaa kimti samjhunga” he bowed to her slightly as she walked away. “Shukriya” she smiled as she walked away.
Rehanna looked around the massive and beautiful venue. Glass, marble, gold, dark mahogany wood, Italian tiles on the floor. This place must cost a fortune to hire. She had parked under the valet entrance and to the right of her she saw a massive sign pointing her to the direction of the event. It was a decorated side entrance to the biggest hall the venue had. Rehanna gathers her lehenga in her hands as she walks elegantly along the path.
For such a supposedly bustling event the hallway to enter it was absolutely desolate. Even in the most hectic event you usually find a group of uncles having a discussion outside the door. Children running like maniacs screeching like the world was ending. But there was none of that. Not even a stray waiter pretending to be busy.
Instead Rehanna found that she was walking on a carpet of white rose petals. The soft velvety petals crushed below her embellished juttis. The walls of the draped tent-like entrance were decorated in beautiful arrangements of white flowers with deep green leaves. The tent itself was draped with white, pale pink, and sage green fabric across the ceiling and down the walls. Every few feet rested massive silver platters filled with water and more florals. The entire entrance was painfully elegant and beautiful. And her outfit seems to be the perfect compliment to the decor. Like the decor was placed to make her stand out.
Rehanna walks down the decorated hallway and through the massive doorway of the actual event space and it is just as beautiful as the halfway she walked down, in fact it was even more grand. The large area was set with about one hundred or maybe one hundred fifty chairs draped in white and green fabric. The chairs were set on either side of an aisle of sorts. Dusted with more white rose petals and bordered with more fresh foliage. There were massive floral arrangements on the walls. Silver center pieces dotted around the room, ornate vintage lamps.
Down the aisle was a round stage with a single microphone stand. Along the edge of the hall was a smaller stage where musicians were setting up. Some of the many instruments were tablas, sitars, violins, and even a grand piano.
Rehanna takes it in for a moment. This level of decor isn't what you see at a political event. In fact it's as beautiful as a wedding or an engagement event. Everyone seated in the hall seems to have the same realization as her. Confused whispers floated around the room as people wondered what was going on. This clearly wasn't a political event.
—--------------------
Authors note: LISTEN TO GEHRA HUA FROM THE DHURANDAR ALBUM RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Rehanna lets her feet carry her a few more steps into the grandly decorated hall. Had Rehman lied? The note asked her to come for one last political event. This was sure as hell not a political event. But before Rehanna could contemplate more the musicians adjusted their instruments one more time. Then they took a breath and began playing a beautiful melodic tone. Background singers joined them gently humming along to the music. The lights overhead dimmed until all that was visible was the stage at the center. Rehana now stood at the very back of the room. She stood at the edge of the floral aisle that led up to the stage. She looks towards the musicians and singers entranced by the melody
Then a voice that nobody expects filters through the speakers “Tu agar meri, yeh hawayein teri. Tu agar meri, saari raahein teri. Tu agar meri, main hoon tera” The entire 150-strong venue freezes. All of them collectively blink in shock as if they can't believe what they were hearing. Rehanna’s heart freezes as she hears Rehman's melodic and dark voice croon through the speakers. It sounds just like smooth dark smoke wrapping around her soul.
Rehanna’s eyes flick back to the stage and there he stands illuminated by the stage lights. It's him. It's her Rehman. He is dressed in a cream white sherwani that is embroidered to match her perfectly. He looks devastatingly handsome, that one rebellious strand of hair falling over his forehead once again. He looks ever so slightly nervous under everyone's eyes in the room. Next to the stage stands the entire group. Uzair, Hamza, Yalina, Faizal, Siyahi, and Donga, all dressed in their best clothes. All of them hold an expression of surprise on their face, all of them look like they are thinking- What the fuck is going on?
“Tu agar meri, yeh ujaale tere. Tu agar meri, dil hawale tere. Tu agar meri, main hoon tera” He continues singing the second lyric. His eyes were still scanning the room as if he was looking for something. Fatima Jamali, the mu-boli behen of Jameel Jamali sits in the crowd with a different sense of awe as she watches Rehman. If anyone cared to look at her they would see that she is practically making heart eyes at Rehman as she melts at his dark and melodious voice.
Rehman can feel the heart's eyes and he ignores them entirely; he was looking for adoring eyes, but not these eyes. Not any of the eyes of the people in the room. He was looking for the eyes of one particular woman. Then he finds them. The most beautiful eyes in the world belong to the most beautiful woman in the world. His Rehanna. The joy that floods Rehman at the sight of her should be illegal. His nervousness disappears entirely as all he sees is her. She heard him, she heard his request and she wore what he sent and my god it's better than he had ever imagined. She looks radiant. Rehman's eyes stay on her.
Rehman's voice is more confident now as he sings the next lyric looking into her eyes “Betaab-sa mohabbat ka tu inqalaab hai. Mera jahaan teri baahon mein khwaab, khwaab hai” Rehanna watches him as the last remaining dregs of her anger loosen their hold around her and slither out of her system. He had repented a lot, in fact saying a lot would be an understatement. Rehman had moved mountains to make it up to her again. She had missed him incredibly in the past thirty-one days. And now he stood on a stage in front of a crowd of hundreds as he sang only to her. He wanted her back so badly he was willing to take the first step to show the world that were one.
Everyone in the hall still stares at the stage slack jawed. Because THE Rehman Dakait, the bastard king of lyari, the Sher-E-Baloch ... .Was singing a love song looking into the distance of the room. Everyone blinks violently as they try to wrap their head around what they were seeng…this event was supposed to be a political Daawat. The Boys and Yalina stand by the stage in pure confusion as to what the hell was going on here. Yalina elbowed Uzair who stood beside her “Uzair ye kya ho raha hai?” She whisper-yelled at him. “M-Mai khud nahi jaanta Yalina” Uzair whispered back in pure horror
“Gehra hua, gehra hua. Rang aashiqui gehra hua. Gehra hua, gehra hua. Dariya dua gehra hua Tera hua.” Rehman continues singing, a small smile on his face as he watches Rehanna at the every back edge of the room. Rehanna forces herself to breathe through her nose and she forces the muscles of her face to stop trying to twitch into a smile at the most feared man in Karachi singing to her in public. Her mind floods with the memories of him doing everything in his power to make it back to her.
“Tu agar meri, yeh hawayein teri Tu agar meri, saari raahein teri Tu agar meri, main hoon tera” Rehman unhooks the microphone from the stand as he pushes the mic-stand away. He grips the microphone in his hand securely as he steps off large circular stage. The lights overhead follow him as he moves. A fresh wave of confusion washes over the entire room. Rehman's eyes stay on Rehanna like she is his sole reason to live in this moment of time
“ Palkein jhapakta hai aasmaan Laakhon farishton ki hai tu jaan” Rehman keeps singing as he walks down the flower coated aisle. He walks down the path in slow measured steps, his eyes never leaving Rehanna for even a second. Rehanna watches him carefully as he walks closer and closer to her. The closer he gets she can feel the pure love and adoration in his gaze like a ten ton truck. People turn in their chairs and peek over each other's heads to see what on earth the madman was doing now. He sings the next line with calm confidence. Like he was stating a simple question and its very obvious answer “Woh poochhte hain Rehti kahaan? Meri baahon mein rehti, unko bata” Rehman stops in front of her and holds out his hand to her. He simply holds it there, mere inches from her, he doesn't force her, he doesn't reach for her hand and pull her along. He holds it out and waits as he watches her with devotion in his eyes so strong it makes Rehanna's breathing hitch. He was pleading for her hand.
The people of the hall watch in absolute shock. Nobody could believe what they were seeing. Rehman Dakait was asking for his lawyer's hand. Everyone's mouth remains hung open as if it had unhinged from their jaws and nobody noticed. Rehanna blinks in surprise, her throat swallowing in realization of what was about to happen. She makes Rehman hold his hand in the air for a moment as she looks him dead in the eyes. The raw emotion in them matches the depth of the feelings of her own heart and she lifts up her hand and places it in his. The touch is positively electric as a shaky breath of relief leaves Rehman quietly enough to not be picked up by the microphone.
Rehman keeps his eyes on her as joy floods his handsome features at the feel of her proximity to him again. Her hand was where it belonged once again, firmly in his hand. He keeps singing the next lyrics as he holds her eyes “Palkein jhapakta hai aasmaan. Usne bhi tujh-sa dekha kahaan Hai raunakien wahan, tu hai jahaan Meri baahon mein rehna, yahi hai dua” Slowly Rehman walks Rehanna up the aisle. As they make their way up further they come into Hamza’s field of vision first. Hamza’s mind blanks. He sees his didi and he sees his Rehman bhai. He sees his didi’s hand in Rehman’s hand. He sees that Rehman and Rehanna are dressed coordinating outfits. And finally he sees the look of pure love in Rehman's eyes as he looks at his sister.And with all of this information Hamza finally puts 2 and 2 together. He isn't okay. Shock and disgust roll through him violently, he feels bile rise up his throat.
As Rehanna and Rehman walk further and further up the aisle everyone finally gets a propper look. “Ya allah? Rehman bhai aur unki vakeel?!” is a common whisper amongst the crowd. Faizal is grinning from ear to ear, his mummy and his abbu were hand in hand just as he had hoped. Uzairs grin is truly massive seeing who’s hand his brother is holding. Donga grins along with Uzair in pure joy for his boss. Yalina is speechless in joy, deep down, all this time, she had shipped Rehanna and Rehman together. She knew they were perfect for each other. And now theories were hand in hand. Siyahi looks entirely confused, his head tilted as he still hasn't put 2 and 2 together.
Fatima looks as devastated as Hamza but for entirely different reasons. The man she is irrationally in love with is holding another woman's hand looking painfully in love. The cherry on top of the pile of shit was that he was holding his bitchy lawyer's hand. Fatima looks like she just got slapped. Rehman smiles at Rehanna as he sings and keeps walking with her. “Tu agar meri, hai fasaana tera Tu agar meri, toh zamaana tera Tu agar meri, main hoon tera”
He loves the look in rehanna’s eyes right now. Love. pure love. For 31 days he had seen just pain and anger in her eyes, seeing love in her eyes again felt like a breath of fresh air to him. He helps her onto the stage as he holds her by the hand. Rehanna watches him carefully as she lifts her lehenga to step onto the stage. She can feel the eyes of the entire hall on her but she only looks at him. Rehman brings her to the middle of the stage and then shocks everyone including Rehanna. He holds her hand in his as he sinks down onto his knees in front of her. The entire hall gasps in shock at seeing Rehman on one knee. But Rehman doesn't care, he just looks at Rehanna as he keeps singing “Betaab-sa mohabbat ka tu inqalaab hai. Mera jahaan teri baahon mein khwaab, khwaab hai”
“Gehra hua, gehra hua Rang aashiqui gehra hua Tera hua” with that he reaches into the pocket of his sherwani. Rehanna can hear a faint jingling sound come from his pockets. Rehman carefully pulls out her payals. The ones he had gifted to her on her birthday when he brought her home and the very same ones she had ripped off her feet when she left him. Rehanna watches wordlessly, her words seem to fail her in the moment because she looks at the payals, they are repaired. The platinum claps that she had ripped off were repaired. He holds them up to her field of vision and waits for permission. The diamonds glitter in the low light and refract on both of them.
All Rehanna can do is simply nod her head yes dumbly. He sts the microphone down and gently picks up one of her jutti clad feet and sets it flat against his knee. He drapes the payal on her ankle and rehanna gasps, when she ripped them off it felt like she ripped away a part of herself, now she felt those parts come back to her. He secures the payal with gentle reverent care and repeats the process. Yalina and the gang stand beside the stage. Faizal grins as he sees his Abbu reclasp Rehanna's payals on her feet, the same payals he had helped to select. Uzair, Hamza, Donga, and Siyahi stand there with their mouths hanging fully open. It was Rehman who gave her the payals? Yalina is giddy with excitement “ITWASHIM?OHMYFUCKINGGOD!-” she says as she loses her shit. Too afraid to ruin the moment Yalina muffles her squeal in her dupatta. She shakes a very green Hamza by the shoulders.
Rehman rises off of one knee slowly and pulls the pendant out of his other pocket. The pendant he gifted her on Eid. The platinum pendant with the diamond encrusted letter R and a tiny lion charm. The same one she had snapped off her neck as she left him. It was now repaired. Rehman holds it up to her and through just his eyes he asks for her consent once again. Rehanna nods as she holds back a tsunami of emotions. He clasps it around her neck along with the new necklace she was wearing today. She shivers slightly as his fingers brush the nape of her neck. Rehman sings the next lyric “Tu agar meri, yeh hawayein teri Tu agar meri, saari raahein teri Tu agar meri, main hoon tera” he smiles lovingly at her.
Tears pool in her eyes as she feels her jewelry on her again. Like pieces of herself coming back to her. The fondness and love in his eyes is too much to bear, this massive gesture in front of so many people is too much to bear. Her lip trembles slightly as a tear slips down her face. Rehman's brows immediately furrow in worry. He steps closer to her and Rehman brushes the tear away from her cheek with his thumb as he cradles her precious face in his hands. He continues singing with a knowing, twinkling look in his eyes “Teri mohabbat mein jalna bhi hai. Aur tujhse bachke hi chalna bhi hai. Kuch rang apna badalna bhi hai. Maine dhalna tere rang mein hai sada”
Rehanna smiles through her tears at what he was saying. He wanted to burn in her love but also be weary of her anger. He wanted to change for her and he wanted to be hers at the end of the day. A little huff of laughter leaves her before she can stop it. Rehman smiles seeing her smile. His thumb continues to brush away some more stray tears as he keeps singing “Tu chaand hai ek dhadakta hua. Chori se mujhko hi takta hua. Seene se lag ke chamakta hua. Meri jannat ka rasta, tu hi tu hua” he sinks down onto one knee again.
What else was left? Wonders Rehanna as she looks at him with furrowed brows and a small smile. Her head tilted slightly. Rehman reaches into his other sherwani pocket. And pulls out a small velvet box. Yalina gasps as she realizes what's happening. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, OHMYGOD!!!!!!” she squeals as she shakes Hamza and Uzair by their shoulders hard enough to dislocate it form the sockets as she tries not to bounce in excitement. Rehanna blinks as Rehman continues singing softly into the microphone “Tu agar meri, yeh hawayein teri Tu agar meri, saari raahein teri, Tu agar meri, main hoon tera” He opens the box with a flick of his hand and a gasp rips from everyone's throat. Fatima whispers “Yeh nahi ho sakta!” as she shakes her head in horror. “Ye nahi ho sakta!” whispers Hamza in horror. “Ye kya ho raha hai?” whispers a truly lost Siyahi.
As Rehman flicks the small velvet box open Rehanna’s heart stops beating. It was a ring. There was a ring in the box. There was an engagement ring in the box. Rehanna gasps as her hand goes to her mouth. It was a beautiful emerald cut emerald ring set in a platinum band, the band itself was vines of twisted platinum encrusted with luminous diamonds and tiny emeralds as leaves. The pattern of the ring was enchanted and nature inspired. It was a truly beautiful ring. But Rehanna’s eye got stuck at the truly massive 5 carat emerald as the main stone of the engagement ring. She blinked hard and released a low and shaky whisper of “Oh bhenchod” as a spontaneous reaction.
Rehanna genuinely can not believe her eyes. Rehman was on his knees, with a ring. He was asking her to marry him in front of the world. Rehanna can't believe it. Rehman watches her entire cycle of reactions from one knee on the ground. The grin that pulls on his face is truly diabolical. He sees her surprise, he sees her joy, he sees that she loves it. And her cursing? That's how he knew his jaan truly loved it. Rehman continues singing “ Betaab-sa mohabbat ka tu inqalaab hai Mera jahaan teri baahon mein khwaab, khwaab hai” he pauses singing and puts the mic down.
Rehman takes her left hand in his gently. He speaks only to her now “Meri jaan” his voice is slightly hoarse “Meri jaan mujhe maaf kardo, jabse aap gayi ho aisa lagta hai ki kisine meri sansien ghot rakhi hai. Jaise meri jeene ki wajah chali gayi hai” He pauses to take a shaky breath before he continues “Meri hojao…meri jaan, meri hojao. Jabse hum sath me hain tabse humne humare is rishte ko koi naam nahi diya hai…lekin ab mujhse chup chupke nahi raha jaega” Rehanna has to hold back her tears as Rehman continues “Aapko kho ke samajh me aagyaa ki aapke bina mujhe jeena nahi aata. Mai duniya ke samne aapka hona chahata hun..mujhe apnalo meri jaan.. Mujhse nikaah aur shaadi dono karlo” Rehman is loud enough in his admission so that the front few rows can hear him loud and clear. Fatima gasps as she hears it and promptly faints over her brother Jameel jamali’s shoulder.
Rehanna takes a deep breath. She wants to scream yes and fall into his arms, but some rational part of her brain wants Rehman to know very clearly what he was getting into. “Ek shart pe” Rehman freezes and nods for her to go on. Everyone waits with baited breaths. Rehanna continues “Agar agli bar mera dil dukhaya… to phir aapko jaan se mardungi” she ends menacingly as she leans in just a bit to make her point. Everyone gasps at the open threat on Rehman Dakait. Rehman doesn't need to think twice as he nods his head “Agli kabhi hogi nahi, lekin agar agli baar maine aapka dil dukhaya toh mujhe mauth ki saza qabool hai. Khushi khushi qabool hai.”
A beat passes between them where nobody breathes. The entire room looks at Rehanna, the ball is entirely in her court. She looks into Rehman's eyes and he is begging her to believe her, his eyebrows arch and knit together slightly. He looks at her like she is his everything. “Haan.. Haan mai aapse shaadi aur nikaah dono karungi” she cries happily as she gives more of her hand to Rehman. Rehman's brain gives him one instruction, put the ring on her. He has turned into a robot running on basic orders because of how joy short-circuited him violently. His fingers grab the ring and slip it onto her ring finger, once the ring was secure on the left hand he kissed her ring before he stood up from his knees. The box fell carelessly, there was no use for it now.
The entire hall breaks out in cheers. Yalina screams in joy as Faizal crashes into her, his hand around her waist and her arms around Faizal. Uzair cheers and claps, he is still in shock but the joy was undeniable. Hamza and Siyahi stand stunned in shock, their minds still haven't caught up to what they just witnessed. Rehman stands up and pulls his jaan into his arms for a crushing hug. One of his hands on her waist the other across her back protectively as he tucked her body into his entirely. The feeling of her against him is amazing, he hadn't held her in his arms in a month. His Rehanna was finally in his arms.
He feels her shaking against him in emotion, he hears her whimper slightly as she holds back her tears of joy. Rehman pulls back slightly as one hand rests against her scalp and he presses his lips to her forehead. The kiss against her forehead is full of longing, love, and joy. Rehanna’s hands hold him just as tight. Her Rehman was finally in her arms. She gripped him tighter, like she was afraid Rehman would slip out of her hands again. She can smell his cologne, she can feel his warm strong body against her. Her hands tighten around his back tighter. She pulls away slightly to press a kiss to his cheek before she rests her head on his heart. She can feel it thumping erratically, for a moment it's all she can hear amid all of the commotion.
Eventually Yalina is unable to contain her joy. She squeals as she runs up onto the stage with Faizal, Uzair, and Donga. Uzair runs to his brother first as Yalina runs to Rehanna. The newly reconciled lovers are pulled apart and pulled into new embraces. Yalina squeals beside Rehanna’s ear hard enough to make the woman go deaf. Uzair claps a hand on his brother's back as he pulls him into a hug. Both of them laughed into their respective hugs responding to the many congratulations poured on them, but their eyes were on each other constantly. Rehanna looked over Yalina's shoulder as she cried tears of joy, Rehaman looked at her over Uzair's shoulder as his own eyes glistened with emotion.
Hamza watches everything around him for a moment. This can't be reality can it? THe world seems to slow down as he sees Yalina leave his shoulder and run to Rehanna, the cheering crowd bleed into background noise. Hamza felt his stomach churn. His didi… and Rehman? Hamza swallows down bile as he feels his face lose color, he must be green by now he is positive. But he might be red right now because he simultaneously felt pure red hot rage at the idea of Rehman and his sister. He doesn't like the idea of him touching her one bit. So being both green and red Hamza decides he is feeling like a shitty brown. A warm shitty brown at the lovely visual in front of him. He looked like he was just told that somebody had died.
Siyahi felt his heart break into a million pieces. He felt it crack like hot glass in cold water before he felt it fall to the ground and shatter entirely. His dear dear vakeel sahiba and his boss? He felt something sink down into his stomach. He feels dead. Faizal ran in front of him as he climbed up the stage in pure child-like joy. Yalina, Uzair, and Donga had finally let go of Rehanna and Rehman after hugging both of them tight enough to make them dizzy from the lack of oxygen. “Mummy! Abbu!” Yells Faizal in joy as he crashes into both Rehman and Rehanna pulling them into a hug.
Rehanna hugs Faizal back harder as even more emotions roll inside of her. She can't speak for fear of bawling so she simply presses a kiss to Faizal’s forehead. Rehman looks at the visual with something painfully soft hitting him square in the heart. His Rehanna, and his Faizal… Reunited as they deserve. Rehanna pulls away from Faizal laughing with tears streaming down her face, her makeup ruined but she still looked like the most angelic being on the planet. Rehman cupped her face in his hands once again. His forehead drops against hers as he just stands there for a moment. In front of the world they had claimed each other. The whole world knew. Rehman was Rehanna’s and Rehanna was Rehman’s. Rehman pressed another kiss to her forehead as he looked at her with painful fondness in his arms.
Gehra hua, gehra hua. Rang aashiqui gehra hua. Gehra hua, gehra hua. Dariya dua gehra hua
—--------------------------------------
Same day @ 9:30 pm
The Mansion Marquee, Karachi, Pakistan
For the past four hours and thirty minutes Rehman had been attached to his jaan at the hip. His hand needed to be in some place on her body constantly. His hand in her hand, his hand around her waist as she is pulled flush along his side, or even truly pathetically his hand in her dupatta just to hold onto a piece of her. Rehman's eyes haven't left her ever since he saw her. Like he was trying to make up for all the lost time between them. As Rehanna happily walked around the event greeting people Rehman followed her like a pathetic lost and in love puppy.
Everyone can't take their eyes off of Rehman. The entire event hall looks shell shocked by the change in Rehman Dakait. A man so notorious, a man who strikes fear into everyone's hearts, the man whose sight makes people shiver in fear….was following around a woman looking painfully in love. Every time she smiled he smiled, every time she turned to look at him he would already be looking at her.
Sometime after the party was in full swing Uzair grabbed Rehanna by the hand and dragged her, and by extension Rehman, along with him to the dance floor “Chaliye chaliye! Bhabhi ab toh naachne ka wakt aagaya hai!” cheers Uzair without realizing the words that came out of his mouth. Rehanna stops dead in her tracks, Uzair seems to realize what he said and stops mid step. Rehman tightens his grip in Rehanna’s dupatta as a shameless grin pulls at his face. He had imagined his little brother calling his jaan ‘bhabhi’ but hearing it was a different experience altogether. “Baloch sahab?” Rehanna asks in pleasant shock. Uzair turns with a grin “Kya? Ab toh bhabhi hi bolunga na? Ya aapka abhi bhi plan hai bhai ko tadpane ka?” Rehanna laughs with a huge smile “Woh toh mood ke hisabse dekhenge baadme.. Lekin haan aap bhabhi bulalo mujhe” Uzair pulls her along to the dance floor “Agar mai ab aapko bhabhi bulaunga toh phir aap mujhe Baloch sahab bulana band karo!”
Rehanna grins “Achha achha! Theek hai…Uzair. Lo khush?” Uzair picks her up, making her yell in shock. “Haan bhabhi ye sahi hai!” he grins as he rushes to the dance floor while Rehanna laughs in his arms. Rehman's hand slips from Rehanna’s dupatta as she gets carried away by his brother. Her lehenga flaring out behind her “ABEH OH!” calls Rehman as he rushes behind them. Her lehenga twirls as Uzair sets her down onto the dancefloor. Uzair holds her hands as he leads her into a bhangra. Everyone on the dance floor whoops and cheers as they see Rehanna join the dancefloor. They immediately make room in the dance circle for her to join. Rehanna smiles as she dances the bhangra, keeping in time with the steps with painful ease in her heavy clothes. Her hands pumping, her wrist flicking and her feet moving in perfect time with the music.
Rehman watches her fondly from the edge of the circle. He watches how joy makes her face crinkle. He watches how she dances in joy. Even over the heavy dhol and the loud cheering Rehman can finally hear it. He can hear the chan, chan, chan of her payals. The sound pulls at his heart, his ears relish the noise. Suddenly Rehanna breaks from the group and rushes towards Rehman. She says nothing and just grabs him by the hand and pulls him to dance. The crowd cheers louder as they see the newly revealed couple come onto the dance floor. Uzair calls over the music “Arreh bhabhi! Bhai naachte nahi hai!” Rehanna giggles as she drags Rehman to the middle of the dancefloor where space had been cleared for them “Uzair! Tumhe idea bhi nahi tumhare bhai kya kya karte hain” she winked at Uzair as she grinned and pumped her eyebrows at Rehman.
Rehman laughed openly, his head bowed slightly as he nodded in agreement with Rehanna. The dhols began playing a slightly slower beat just for the both of them. Rehanna began dancing the bhangra around Rehman. Her shoulders moved back and forth, her hand elegantly curved her fingers as she flicked and her wrist twisted as she looked into Rehman's eyes. Rehman stood still for a moment as he just watched her. A slow lazy grin pulled on his face as his hands straightened the cuffs of his cream sherwani. With a sudden burst of energy Rehman began matching Rehanna’s moves perfectly, much to Rehanna’s absolute glee. She smiled so hard her eyes scrunched entirely as she danced with Rehman. The crowd cheered and whistled at the couple
—-------
Hours later, Rehanna clutches her side breathlessly. An exhausted joy rested on her face, a faint sheen of sweat rested on her neck making her glow under the warm lights of the luxurious venue. Rehman was at her side with a chilled glass of whiskey ready for her within seconds. “Naach naach ke thak gayi meri jaan?” he hums in her ear, his breath ghosting on her neck as his arm curls around her waist pulling her flush against him. He didn't care who saw them now.
Rehanna choked on her cool glass of whiskey at the feel of his hands curling around her waist so publicly. She felt dozens of eyes on both of them as she swayed lightly in Rehman's arms. “Rehman! Log dekh rahe hai!” she hissed as she hit his shoulder looking left and right as a light blush coated her cheeks. Rehman chuckled darkly as he stepped away slightly, his hand still firmly around her waist. “Achha achha maaf kardo” he tilted his head slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief “Meri jaan..aap bohot zayda pyari lagti hain..aise…meri wajeh se sharmati hui” and before she could speak again he pressed a kiss to her cheek and began walking her to a table so she could rest her weary legs. She laughed breathlessly as she took another gulp of whiskey “Aap bohot zyada besharam ho rahe hain!” he chuckled as he pulled out a chair for her and helped her sit down. “Sirf aapke liye” he hummed by her ear as he pressed another kiss to her cheek shamelessly.
Rehanna bit back a smile as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She rolled her eyes as the smile won the fight and graced her face. Rehman pulled out the chair next to her and sank down in it with a tired but happy sigh. Before Rehman could get out more words to make Rehanna blush the entire gang crowded around them. Some plopping in chairs by the table, some leaning against the table, some standing by them, and Faizal launching himself into his fathers lap. Rehman let out a hard oof as he adjusted Faizal in his lap. Yalina hung on the edge of Rehanna’s chair as she yanked her left hand out so she could see Rehman's engagement ring better.
“YA ALLAH! KYA ANGOOTHI HAI!” she gasped as she got a proper view at the boulder on Rehanna’s hand. “Rehman bhai?! Ye zamard hai ya ZAMARD KA PURA PATHAR?” Rehman shrugged with a grin, his eyes flicked to the massive 5 carat emerald on Rehanna’s finger, he lit a cigarette and puffed on it. Blowing the smoke away from Faizal who sat in his lap. Uzair narrowed his eyes to take a closer look at Rehanna’s hand and he hummed seriously as he leaned back “Hmmm….Hamza?” Hamza blinked out of whatever trance he had gone into, he still hadn't recovered. The idea of his sister and Rehman was still traumatizing to him “Haan bol?”
“Hamza tera toh kata…tera ganda walla kata!” Uzair laughed as he pointed at an absolutely enamored Yalina who was staring at the ring with large glittering eyes. She stared at the ring like she was in love with the emeralds and the diamonds. Yalina oohed and ahhed at the ring. It was clear she was imagining her own ring from Hamza one day. Hamza huffed slightly under his breath “...mera toh waise bhi katta hua chal raha hai… ye kya chal raha hai bhenchod?” Uzair leaned in closer “Hmm kya bola?” Hamza shook his head “Nahi nahi kuch nahi”
“Waise bhai aur bhabhi?” began Uzair with a lazy grin as he leaned against the table. Rehman raised an eyebrow at his brother “Bol” ; he expected nothing good out of his brother's mouth. “Bhai aap toh chhupe rustum nikle…yeh sab…kab se chal raha hai?” he waggled his eyebrows at both Rehman and Rehanna. “Haaaannn!” exclaimed Yalina clapping her hands “Yeh kab se chal raha hai?” Rehman grinned and gestured for Rehanna to respond for the both of them. Rehanna grinned “Tum logon ko woh party yaad hai? Woh PAP ki lyari wali jeet ki party?” Everyone nodded “.....uss raat ko hi” Rehanna pursed her lips to try to muffle her grin.
Hamza felt bile rise in his throat violently. That night he had given Rehanna the advice to fuck him….and then she acutally did. Hamza feels sick to his stomach at how Rehman looks at her with a knowing look in his eyes. With a kind of knowing look that made it seem like he was reliving that night like he was imagining his sister in that way...In an intimate way- Hamza shudders in disgust before he forces himself to take a deep breath to not barf all over the table “ITNE MAHINO SE? AUR BATAYA BHI NAHI” gasps Uzair in disbelief. Siyahi blinks doing mental math, Donga scratches head as he tries to do the same. “Hum kya…hum kya andhe hain?” asks Donga. Rehanna nods solemnly “Haan” Siyahi nods in understanding with a deep sigh as he walks away staring into the distance. Uzair clicks his tongue no “Nahi mujhe yakin nahi ho raha”
Rehanna laughed to herself at their shock as she admired her ring with Yalina, a grin on her face at how big and absolutely mind boggling it is. Rehanna turns to Rehman all of a sudden just to find him staring at her already, she rolled her eyes fondly at him before she asked “Angoothi kitni ki hai?” Rehman took a drag from his cigarette as he answered casually “Hmmm shayad 30 lakh ke ass paas hogi” The entire table consisting of Uzair, Hamza, Yalina, Faizal, Siyahi, and Donga gasp loud enough to make the air feel breathless for a moment. Everyone blinks at each other, then the ring, then each other once again.
Everyone expects Rehanna to gasp, to yell in shock, to have some sort of crazed reaction. But much to everyone's double shock Rehanna simply clicks her tongue like she is disappointed. Rehman immediately perks up at that response, he hadn't expected that response from her. He blinked in shock as he looked at her “Kya hua meri jaan?” As soon as Hamza hears those words escape from Rehman's mouth for his sister he feels a deep aching pain in his entire being. So much so that his eyes flutter shut and a pained expression takes his face. He has to fight back the groan of pure pain.
Rehanna swiveled slightly to look at Rehman, her left hand stretched awkwardly as Yalina refused to let go of the ring “Aapka kya jaa raha tha 30 lakh aur kharch karne me?” she begins making everyone blink. “Aapne ye jo zevar bheje the na?” she hums as she points to the fresh jewels that Rehman had sent her this morning “Mujhe andaza hai ki ye sab kareeban pachas lakh ke hain..” she trails off for a moment. “PACHAS LAKH KE ZEWAR?” gasps Yalina in the middle as she lets go of Rehanna’s ring clad hand and leans in to look closer at Rehanna's necklace and earrings and bracelet. Rehanna looks at Yalina flatly for interrupting her words “Sorry didi…please continue” she says meekly. Rehanna rolls her eyes and continues. “Haan toh apane in zewaron pe pachaas lakh kharch kiye, angoothi pe tees lakh kharch kiye.. Total assi lakh ke aas pas.Toh bees lakh aur kharchne me aapka kya jaa raha tha?”
Rehman raises an eyebrow with a grin at Rehanna's complaint “kyun kam hai kya aapke hisab se?” he hums smugly. Rehanna makes a slight face as she shakes her head “Nahi nahi ... . Matlab 1 crore ek achha sa round figure nahi hai?” She looks at Rehman with the most innocent eyes in the world. Rehman laughs as he shakes his head, he ashes his cigarette in the crystal ashtray. His hand reaches for her ring clad hand, he brings it to his lips as he presses a chaste and loving kiss on her engagement ring. Hamza looks away entirely to avoid rage flooding his system. “Meri jaan maine toh 1 crore se zyada kharch kardiye!” Rehanna raises an eyebrow and urges him to go on. “Aapne jo mere tofe pheke, jalaay, thukraye…woh kahan saste the?” he ends lazily.
“Hmm saste nahi toh nahi honge…lekin bees lakh ke tofe toh nahi the” she presses on Rehman like a brat. Everyone watched this interaction between them like a pingpong match. Rehman nodded in agreement “Nahi meri jaan sach keh rahi hain aap.. Bees lakh ke tofe nahi the woh. Lekin aapke paas ek aur tofa hai jo bees lakh se bohot zayda hai….woh tofa aapka..humare ghar pe aapka intezar kar raha hai” Rehanna bounces one of her feet as she drains her glass “Achha ji?” she asks tilting her head “Haan ji” Rehman smiles at her “Toh chaliye phir… ghar chalte hain” she hums with a smile.
—----------------
Same day @ 10 pm
Karachi Lyari Expressway, Pakistan
Rehman's maroon corvette hummed beneath them as it cut smoothly through the night. Donga drove the car as Rehman and Rehanna sat in the backseat together. Rehman had tasked Hamza, Uzair, Faizal, and Yalina to bring Rehanna’s black Mercedes behind them. Both cars rolled smoothly along the highway from Karachi to Lyari.
Songs from the radio filtered through the air softly. The warm old leathery scent of the car filled Rehanna with a comfortable warmth. She leaned her head against the cool glass window on her side of the back seat. One leg crossed over the other comfortably beneath her lehenga. The light of the streetlights hit the luxurious beadwork and silver embroidery of her outfit. It glinted against the diamonds on her throat, it glinted against the diamonds on her ears, it glinted on the diamonds on her wrist. It was a beautiful, comfortable silence. The kind that didn't need to be artificially filled.
Rehman's hand traveled from his side of the seat towards her, it traced along the leather of the seat as it sought out her hand. Once he felt the soft skin of her hand his fingers wrapped around her hand as he pulled it fully into his grip. For a few moments Rehanna just lets him simply hold her hand, his thumb brushing soft circles on the skin at the back of her hand. She takes a deep breath as she shifts slightly, doing this in front of someone else feels taboo to her. At the same time she can feel the weight of his ring on her hand. That comforting, and scarily natural weight meant that there was no need to hide now. Rehanna sighs contently as she lays her head on Rehman's shoulder. His heart flutters slightly at the feel of her against him, he moves his hand and naturally pulls her deeper against his side. His hand rested on her waist as he watched fondly.
Donga’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror to check the traffic behind him. But instead he caught a painfully sweet moment. Rehanna, lying against Rehman and Rehman smiling with an arm around her. Donga can't help but smile at what he sees, vakeel sahiba…now bhabhi deserved this happiness. His Rehman bhai also deserved this happiness. They deserved each other. Donga's smile doesn't leave his face as he adjusts the rearview mirror so he can't see the duo anymore for their own privacy. His hand reaches for the controls of the radio and he turns up the volume slightly.
In the small amount of space between them Rehanna holds out her ringed hand. The warm yellow lamps of the Pakistani highway streetlights illuminate the large emerald on her hand sporadically. The stone glitters and refracts sparks along the interior of the car, the diamonds aid the emeralds making the refraction stronger. Rehanna shifts her hand slowly watching as the sparkles refract and bend with her movement. A smile pulls at her face and a deep sense of joy and love floats through her. Rehman watches Rehana play with her ring from above her head, he smiles the smallest fraction more but his cheeks protest the torture they have been put through tonight. Because Rehman hasn't stopped smiling ever since he saw her again
—------------------
Same day @ 11 pm
Baloch haveli, Lyari, Pakistan
The cars roll through the dark streets of Lyari as they turn towards the large looming gates of the Baloch haveli. Rehman gently shakes Rehanna awake as he presses a kiss to her forehead. She was so tired that she had fallen asleep against his shoulder as she admired her ring. Rehanna blinked awake with a small hum of discombobulation. Rehman pressed another kiss to her forehead “Meri jaan uth jao. Ghar aagaya hai” She nodded as she swayed awake in the backseat.
Donga pulled the car smoothly under the porch of the haveli. As soon as the car hummed to a stop Rehman unblocked the door and stepped out, he turned and immediately offered Rehanna his hand. She took his hand with a smile as she stepped out of the car, her free hand adjusted her lehenga as she stepped out of the car. Once she stepped out fully Rehman brought her hand to his lips again as he led her to the steps of the haveli. The fountains in the courtyard ran quietly, the water reflecting pale gold from the lanterns lining the pathway. He helps Rehanna walk up the stairs slowly on account for her tiredness and her heavy outfit. “Rehman? Itne bhari bharkam kaam wale kapde kyun bheje?” she sighs as she walks up the steps slowly “Meri jaan mai kya karta? Aap ko issme dekhne ki badi khuasish thi” he smiles sheepishly as he helps her climb more stairs. Rehanna shakes her head at him as she gets up the final stair.
Behind them Yalina, Uzair, and Hamza watch Rehman and Rehanna still painfully slack jawed. Faizal grins as he bounds up the stairs. “Mummy jaldi chalo, jaldi!” He grabs Rehanna by the arm. Rehanna yelled in surprise as she almost tripped and fell flat on her face, before she could fall Rehman grabbed her by the waist, holding her securely against him. “Faizal beta kya kar raha hai? Shaanti rakho” but Faizal was much too excited to listen to Rehman. He ran into the haveli at full speed “SALMA BI!, SALMA BI! MUMMY AAGAYI!” he called excitedly. Rehanna laughs as she sees Faizal's excitement to bring her home again.
Salma Bi rushes out of the house as she adjusts the dupatta on her head. In her hand rests another aarti ki thali. The moment Rehanna looked toward the entrance of the haveli her chest tightened painfully. The entire household staff stood waiting for her. Every maid. Every servant. Salma Bi stood at the very front holding a silver thali in her wrinkled hands. A small diya flickered softly in the center of it, its warm flame dancing against the old woman’s weathered face. Rehanna’s heart clenches as she watches Salma Bi. It seemed like to old woman had adopted the Indian tradition entirely. Every time she welcomed Rehanna into the house she had an aarti ki thali ready. The first time when Rehanna walked into the haveli with Rehman to live here. Now the second time being when she comes back to the haveli, now engaged to Rehman.
Salma Bi smiled warmly the moment Rehanna reached her. Excitement bubbling through the woman and reflecting on her wrinkled face. She wanted to exclaim in joy but she remembered the thali in her hands. Then the old woman lifted the thali and slowly circled it in front of her exactly like an Indian aarti while quietly whispering Islamic duas beneath her breath. The same habit, as the first arti she performed for Rehanna. Rehanna smiled through the tears of joy as Salma bi sprinkled rice on both Rehman and Rehanna. “Phir mat jaana beta,” Salma Bi whispered softly as she lowered the tray. “Mai pehele bhi nahi jaana chahati thi” sniffs Rehanna. The old maid immediately fussed over her like a mother, touching her cheek affectionately “Ab toh kabhi mat jaana” before ushering her inside.
Rehanna walks into the haveli and it's the same. The exact same except for one glaringly obvious detail. The entire place was studded with vases and vases of rajnigandha flowers. Rehanna’s favorite flowers. Their sweet intoxicating scent invades their senses immediately before anything else. Rehanna looks around as Rehman leads her in by the hand. The haveli was decorated in the same level of decor as the grand hall they were in. The haveli was decorated like a newly weds house but they had just gotten engaged. Leave it to Rehman to go all out. It was like he knew in his soul that Rehanna would come back to him “Toh yeh hai mera surprise? Itne lakh decoration me kharch diye aapne?” Rehanna hums as she looks around.
“Nahi nahi meri jaan, yeh toh aise hi tha! Asli tofa toh uppar hai.” Rehman grins at her with surprising child-like excitement for a hardened gangster. At this moment he looked just like his son Faizal. Or rather the genetic connection of Faizal's behavior was now apparent. A happy gleeful Rehman behaved just like faizal. In the way his eyes crinkled in joy and his handsome features lifted in happiness. Rehman pulls her hand like an excited child as he takes her to the staircase that leads to the second floor. She laughs at his excitement as she lets him pull her along. Rehman looks over his shoulder “Saare log aa jao. Aake dekhlo ki maine uppar ke kamre bandh kyun kiye the”
The curiosity gets the better of everyone as they follow behind Rehanna and Rehman. As he begins to lead Rehanna up the stairs she stops and slows down. The rich, heavy, and luxurious lehenga made it difficult to keep her balance and she needed to slow down to make sure she didn’t trip going up the stairs. “Rehman! Ek second ek second. Mai gir jaungi!” She hums as she pulls her hand away from Rehman to grab her lehenga with both hands. Rehman seems to not have the patience for even a single second because he sighs as he wraps one arm around her back and the other beneath her knees and lifts her up effortlessly into a bridal carry. Her jewels chink slightly as he pulls her snug to his chest.
A gasp and a giggle pulls from Rehanna in surprise her hand rests against his chest as he calmly begins carrying Rehanna up the stairs in his arms like this was completely normal “Nahi nahi ek second ka bhi time nahi hai meri jaan. Ekattis dino ki bharpai karni hai!!” he hums with a grin. Rehanna giggles again at how Rehman speaks, her head thrown back in his arms as she hangs around his neck for purchase. Rehman had to take a deep breath, everything about her in his arms was making it very difficult to not kiss her right then and there. Her melodious laugh, and the way she drapes in his arms certainly isn't helping.
Behind them every single person stared at the visual in front of them slack jawed. Hamza has to physically grip the railing in order to not throw Rehman down a flight of stairs. Yalina's smile is frozen in shock as she clasps a hand on her mouth to not scream at what she was seeing in front of her. Uzair grins at his brother's back, he nods in appreciation and thinks something along the lines of bhai toh bhai hain. Siyahi promptly turns around and walks out of the haveli for his own sanity. He just had his heart broken from a woman who did not even know she had his heart, he did not need jale me namak. He did not need to see her giggling in his boss’s arms. Donga smiles into his fist as he follows up the stairs. He loves love.
Eventually the group makes it up the stairs. Rehanna expected Rehman to put her down when he reached the second floor landing. She was heavier than normal today, the outfit and the jewels had to be adding 5-10 kilos extra to her weight. But Rehman didn't set her down; instead he began walking them down the hall in confident measured strides. “Rehman! Mujhe neeche utardo!” She had to say finally kicking slightly in his arms. Rehman re adjusted her in his arms to throw her entirely over one shoulder purely using the strength of his arms and upper body; she squealed slightly before Rehman set her down. Her payals jingled into a beautiful sound. Rehman grabs her by the hand as he leads her to a new door.
Rehanna blinks, the hallway seems entirely different to what it used to be. She turns on her heel to try and identify what else had changed because this door certainly wasn't there before. Behind her the rest of the crew seems equally confused. The hallway had changed entirely. The hallway that used to lead to a dead end that was a patio now held a single door; her side of the hallway that used to hold three doors now just holds two doors. Rehman's side of the hallway had changed even more, his side that used to hold three doors now just holds one singular door and in fact half of that side seems to be missing as Rehanna saw moonlight streaming from the hallway near the dead ended door.
“Rehman?” Rehanna blinks at him in confusion “Yeh kya hai?” Rehman grins as he unlocks the door he had led everyone too. “Yeh hai.. ek aur tofa aapkeliye” With that he pushes it open and gestures for Rehanna to walk into the room first. It's her library. Her library is massive. She had complained to Rehman that it was much too small and now it was massive. It was so massive it had been combined with her office. Three walls floor to ceiling were covered in hardwood bookshelves and half of the shelves had already been filled with her books. They were filled with her books because Rehman had signaled to his men the moment she had said yes, he signaled to them to go to her house with Salma Bi and bring all of her stuff back.
The wall that wasn't filled with books was entirely filled with windows from the floor to the ceiling. Rehanna could already imagine that during the daytime the rooms would be filled with incredible amounts of light. On the edges of each bookshelf there were encrusted mirrorwork mosaics because she absolutely adored that style of art. And more than that Rehman knew that those mirrors were necessary to capture fragments of her beauty so they could refract and spill across the room. Her desk had been set up against one wall just the way she liked it. All the empty space in the middle of the room had been converted into a private sitting room for Rehanna. Plush sofas in a U shape, armchairs scattered tastefully, rugs and cushions on the floor. All so she could plop down anywhere with a good book. All so his jaan wouldn't have to make the exhausting effort to find a place to sit with her book.
Rehman watched Rehanna’s face carefully as she took in the new changes. She hid her joy on her face but her eyes never were able to lie. If she had a single flaw that would be it, her inability to hide her true emotions in her eyes. Rehanna’s eyes were never able to lie. Not the way Rehman knew how to read her eyes. He watched the way her eyes danced in excitement as they darted around the room. He watches the way she chews her lip slightly as she walks around the room. The rest of the group ooh and aah at the renovations. Rehanna spots another door at the far end of the room, a door that should match the new dead end door of the hallway. She walks toward it “Yeh kya hai?”
Rehman opens the door for her. He sees how she is waiting to see everything before she passes judgement on anything, but he can also see the way her eyes are lit up entirely. Rehanna walks in to find one huge bedroom. Their bedroom. The walls were covered in the most beautiful architectural motifs and mirrorwork that continued from Rehanna’s new office and library. The center piece of the room was the massive four poster sheesham wood canopy bed which was quite literally in the center of the bedroom. Along one end of the room were the ensuite and the massive walk-in closet for both Rehanna and Rehman. And next to it rested the new patio that was made by demolishing half of Rehman's side of the hallway. It was made by demolishing his bedroom and library. And along with that the room also had a balcony of its own. The entire theme of the renovation seemed to be bringing in the most natural light into the room as possible along with a lot of beautiful architecture. She takes a lap around the bedroom alone. Rehman had changed the entire floor plan of the wing. He had literally changed brick and mortar and foundations. He changed it to include her into his home. Prove that it wasn't his haveli, it was their haveli. To cement it once and for all that this was her home and Rehman had no right that night to kick her out.
Rehanna walks out of the bedroom to her office and library again where everyone still waited as they admired the renovations in that section. Rehanna walked slowly, her arms crossed one over the other. Rehman watched as she approached, her face still gave nothing away and her eyes looked shielded now. “Yeh sab toh theek hai” she began lightly, unfazed entirely. She stepped closer to Rehman, now face to face with him “Yeh sab toh theek hai lekin… Lekin aapne kaha ki aap mujhse nafrat karte hain. Uss raat aapne mujhse kaha ki aap mujhse n-a-f-r-a-t karte hain.”
Guilt clouds Rehman's face so fast it's like whiplash. She really did hate to do that to his handsome features, but she needed to make sure he really meant it. Rehman gathers her hands in his, he brings them to his lips and he places a kiss on each hand before he holds her hands in between them “Jaan…mai nahi jaanta ki mai aur kya bolun sivay ki mujhe maaf kardo uss raat ke liye. Mai apne aap ko aapke hawale karta hun. Aapko jaise bhi merei galti ki bharpai karwani hai aap karwalo mujhse.”
Rehanna contemplates for a moment. She stares into his eyes and tilts her head as she weighs over each word. She wasn't really mad at him anymore…but she would like to make him make it up to her. Rehanna clears her throat and walks towards the door to the bedroom. Rehman follows like a dog on a leash. Unsure of what's happening the remaining people in the room Yalina, Hamza, Uzair, and Donga follow. Rehanna turns on her heel as she reaches the door. With one hand she shoves it open with the other she grabs Rehman by the collar of his sherwani. “Hanji toh..tata, bye bye, aur uske sath get lost.” she hums as she shoves Rehman into the bedroom by his collar. The grin on his face is absolutely gleeful and shit eating.
Everyone blinked in shock for the nth time that evening. Uzair is the first to speak “ Toh ye seriously kafi time se chal raha tha?” Rehanna grins as her fingers pinch air in the universal signal to ask someone for just a moment “Ek second ruko Uzair” He nods instantly “haan haan bhabhi take your time” and with that the door slams shut on their faces. And like absolute idiots. They decide to wait like she had asked.
Once inside the room Rehanna reaches forward and grabs Rehman by the collar and slams him against the wall beside the ornately carved wooden door. An oof pulls out of his chest as he lets himself be dragged to her will. Rehman’s eyes snapped open; he wouldn't miss this view for the end of the world. Rehanna standing in front of his eyes, absolutely furious. The hand that now held his engagement ring twisted tightly into the collar of his sherwani. She was somehow even more beautiful than before. The dim lighting made the diamonds at her throat and ears glitter brilliantly while her flushed face and furious eyes made her look like the cruelest siren in all of the lands.
Rehanna took a deep shaky breath of anticipation and grabbed his collar harder. Then she kissed him. Violently. Possessively. Like she wanted to erase every second of that horrible night from his lips. A groan escaped Rehman instantly at the sheer force of it as her lips crashed against his. There was anger in the kiss along with a deep aching and primal claim on his soul. Her lips against his feel like surfacing for a breath of fresh air after being underwater for eons. His hands wrapped around her waist as he let her devour him and his words as her revenge. He pulls her flush against him, another deep groan pulls from his throat when he feels her part his lips with her tongue to kiss him deeper.
Outside the door everyone freezes like deer in the face of a headlight. They all simultaneously seem to realize what on earth was happening behind that door. Hamza had sensed what was about to happen the moment Rehanna had shut the door. He had promptly sped out of the room unwilling to go through more trauma that night. Uzair looks at Yalina with a nod of understanding “Toh…ye seriously kaafi time se chal raha hai…” Yalina nods with wide eyes. For a moment they just stand there in shock. But when they hear Rehman's deep groan and then a loud crash from behind the door. A furious blush creeps up their faces “U- Uzair bhai…Yalina, chalein yahan se?” mutters a flustered Donga. Both Yalina and Uzair nod in agreement and say a simultaneous “Haan” as they rush out the room with Donga to avoid further traumatic sounds.
—-------------
Rehman groans into Rehanna's mouth as his balance sways. His elbow crashed into a decorative wooden statue as his body swayed slightly. She makes a soft sound against his lips when she feels Rehman's hands on her. His heavy hands sliding up her waist, resting along the curve of her hip through her clothes. He could feel the heat of her body through her heavy clothes, he could feel her chest brush against his. Her hands twisted in his hair as she tugged him closer to her mouth she kissed him hungrily, angrily. They gasped for breath in between kisses but neither was willing to break apart. This was the first time they had felt alive in thirty one days.
Rehman pulled her closer by the waist, her chest pushing up flush against his chest. Rehanna’s breathing is getting shaky against his lips with the amount of restraint she is exerting. His hands continued groping the contours of her body. A grab on her hip, a grab on her ass, a grab on her waist. Rehman groaned into the kiss once again as his hips pressed flush against hers and even through the thick layers of his sherwani she could feel the incessant bump of his hardening cock. He fought against her tongue, he tried to take control of the kiss. It was like he was forgetting who really was in charge here tonight. And that was unacceptable to Rehanna.
She pulled away from his lips, in fact she ripped herself away from his lips. Their breaths mingled and chests heaved as they tried to catch their breaths. In the dim lighting of the room, where moonlight spilled between them, Rehanna’s eyes glittered at Rehman. He dropped his forehead against hers as he panted, his hands hungrily groping her hips. “Ya qalbi” he groaned huskily. Rehanna’s eyes glittered once again, but this time there was a spark of lust fueled anger. Her hand fisted in the back of his scalp. She yanked him backwards hard enough to make him exclaim. Before he could get his bearings straight her right hand raised and landed across his cheek with a hard crack.
Rehman's face whipped to the side with the sheer force of her slap. The sound reverberated in the room. Rehanna exhaled shakily Rehman blinked as he turned to face her again, his hands still on her waist. “Rehanna-” he didn't get to finish as she spoke over him “Yeh tha mujhse nafrat karne ke liye” she whispers dangerously. She lets the words linger for just a moment before her hand raises and she slaps him hard again. Rehman gasped as his cheek bloomed with pain that turned dull throbs of pleasure that reverberated through his body. “Yeh tha mujhe ghar se nikalne ki zurrat karne ke liye” her voice shakes slightly with anger and pain. “Meri jaan” whispers Rehman hoarsely, his heart clenched in pain.
Not at his own pain, he couldn't care less about that. He felt physical pain at the sheer scale of pain in her voice. His hands pulled away from her waist with much effort as he reached to cup her face in his hands again. Rehanna's breath hitches but her hand raises once again. She wasn't done. She wasn't done hurting him for what he had done to her. Her hand delivers a final hand crack on his now red cheek, she slaps him hard enough to make his jaw shake slightly. “Aur yeh..” she begins in venomous anger that threatens tears from her eyes “Aur yeh woh wahiyad aur ghatiya pyar ke izzhar ke liye” she sniffs back an angry tear as she grips him by the collar of his sherwani again. She shakes him violently now “AAPNE KAISE HUMARI LADAI KE AGLE DIN HI MERE DARWAZE PE MUJHSE PEHLI BAR MOHOBAT QABOOL KARLI?! HUH? AISA KAUN KARTA HAI!” she exclaims angrily.
Rehman looks at her face and he sees an intoxicating mixture of love, pain, arousal, and anger. The both of them breath shakily, Rehanna’s hands fisted in his sherwani and Rehman's hands cupping her face gently. Rehman doesn't say a word as he just watches her eyes. He sees how her plump and slightly-swollen-from-his-kisses lips part in anticipation. The energy in between them is electric and strong enough to make shaky breathing turn into almost panting. Rehman cant stop himself he leans forward and captures her lips with his. Rehanna moans weakly into the kiss, her anger so strong it was weakening her.
His lips move against hers deeply, his tongue dancing with hers in apology. Her hands loosen from his collar and move to his broad shoulders. Her hands claw at the fabric needing it to fall off of his body immediately. Rehman can still feel the stinging pain of her many slaps on his cheek. It only serves to arouse him further as she claws desperately at his clothes. Rehman's hands let go of her face but he kept his lips firmly against hers, kissing her constantly as his hands went to the hooks and buttons of his sherwani. Rehanna moans into his mouth as her hands tangle in his hair. Rehman's fingers make quick work of his sherwani, unbuttoning the buttons and undoing the hooks at his collar. He pushes off the heavy fabric making it thud onto the floor. Without stopping or breaking the kiss to gasp for breath he goes to the buttons of his matching white kurta that he wore below the sherwani. His fingers unbutton it deftly as he whispers a request against her lips “Jaan-” he breathes hoarsely. He needed to pull away for just a moment to take off his kurta. He had waited long enough to show her this. She had waited long enough to see just how much she owned him.
Rehanna pulls away from him panting for her own breath as she watches him. Under her gaze Rehman lifted the kurta clean off of his strong frame. She watched his body hungrily, he had changed from what he used to be. It looked like during their thirtyone days apart Rehman had taken to his training with the hopes it could ease his pain. His previously strong arms were even more well defined. His biceps were larger and harder, his forearms more well worked and muscular, the veins on his hands wrapped around his arms as they pumped hard to feed the new muscles with oxygenated blood. Her mouth drooled slightly at the sheer amount of new muscle on his bicep. He was a strong man before no doubt but more muscle never hurt.
Her eyes traced down to his abs which had also developed more, they stood out more prominently even under the dusting of salt and pepper hair that trailed from his chest down and merged into his happy trail. She found that they matched his rugged look more, the defined abs matched his old knife scars and bullet wounds. Her eyes dragged up to the hard muscled plane of his chest, even his pectorals were larger and more well defined by his training. Rehman pulls her close by her waist once again as the kurta lands carelessly onto the floor. His mouth devours hers once more pulling a raspy sigh from her, his lips detached from hers as he trailed messy and sloppy kisses along her cheek, along the sharp line of her jaw, along the line of her throat. She sighed as she leaned in closer to him, one of her hands eagerly and shamelessly feeling along his hardened abs.
Rehman presses sloppy kisses down her neck, over the diamond, emerald, and platinum necklace he gifted her, along the chain of her pendant he had just clasped on her hours ago. She can feel the heat of his tongue and lips as he places knee weakening kisses below her ear. As he kisses along her neck one of his hands reaches down to the hand that was fondling his abs shamelessly. Slowly he guided her hand to drag up his body. His cock stirred in his salwar in anticipation of her reaction. He brought her hand to rest on his left peck, right over his heart. He murmured gruffly along her throat “Dekho. Dekho meri jaan” he patted her hand gently to guide her eyes to it. Her head tilted as she shifted her hand to see what Rehman was asking her to see, his lips resumed their torture along her throat nipping just below her ear. Her breath completely stopped when her eyes dragged to his left pectoral.
She blinked in disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was seeing and in fact she felt like her eyes were playing cruel and unusual tricks on her lust addled brain. Because she was seeing ink. She was seeing ink on Rehman's skin. A tattoo. “R-rehman?” she whispered shakily with a small moan as he bit at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Rehman grinned wickedly against her skin. Rehanna blinked once again as the design got illuminated by the faint pale moonlight. It was a small line art tattoo. It was a tattooed letter R and R in black ink directly over where his heart would be. They were crossed and intertwined with each other. One letter R was written in Urdu, it stood for Rehman. Another letter R was written in Hindi, It stood for her. It stood for Rehanna. Both of their initials rested safely over his heart.
The symbolism crashed into Rehanna like a fucking truck, but there was something stronger than the sweet gesture and feeling. Possession and arousal crashed over her already lust hazed mind like a tsunami. A guttural moan ripped from her at the sight of the tattoo on Rehman's skin and at the feel of his lips on her skin. She felt a wave of wetness flood her, she must be positively dripping by now, in fact she can feel it. Her mind snapped violently, she had the same reaction Rehman always had when it came to her own tattoos. Her nails dragged along his scalp before fisting tightly in his hair. Her head leaned forward and her mind fought the lust for a moment. Her lips pressed a gentle loving kiss on the tattoo. Then the lust consumed her, her lips pressed harder against his pectorals as she left bruising kisses and sucked around the tattoo as if she was framing it.
Rehman groans at the feel of her lips on his skin, the feeling of her marking his tattoo was dizzying. His cock hardens entirely in his salwar “Aapka meri jaan… Sirf aapka hun mai” he rasped as his hand rested in her hair for a moment. She bit down around the tattoo framing it in teeth marks and Rehman can't stop the moan that pulls out of him. His hands rush to tangle in the ties of her lehenga. His fingers thread in the loops of the cord, he could pull it off in one hard tug but he stops “Ijazat-” he rasps “Ijazat do meri jaan” Consent. He wanted her consent to rip off her clothes. She nods desperately against his chest, entirely much too occupied with committing his tattoo to her memory.
Rehman yanks hard at the ties of her lehenga, the heavy silk fabric immediately falls and pools around her feet. Rehanna steps out of it and kicks it away as her lips drag up his neck now giving the tattoo a moment of respite, yet she still kept her fingers on it. Rehman unclasps her lotus diamond and emerald necklace and tosses it haphazardly onto the table beside them. He already knew the necklace would make her uncomfortable in a few moments. Now just her platinum chain and pendant rested in her neck. Rehanna pulls away and her eyes are completely lost in lust, pupils blown so wide that her beautiful brown eyes are entirely black. And the look in her eyes is of ravenous hunger. Rehanna steps back slightly as she pulls the heavily embroidered and beaded white kurta off of her body. The dupatta she had pinned to her shoulder followed naturally as she threw it to the floor.
She now stood before him bare entirely, spare for the dark green lace lingerie that Rehman had bought her on her birthday as a gift selfishly entirely for his own viewing pleasure. And my god did she look phenomenal in it, Rehman feels his mouth go dry. How does she always look better than he had ever imagined she would look? The dark green of her lingerie compliments her engagement ring painfully perfectly, her milky white skin glowed against the color of the lace. She was a fucking vision and his cock realized it just as much because it twiched painfully, getting impossibly harder at he sight of her, Rehanna could see the outline of it in his white salwar. Rehman panted, his lungs were unable to help him take full and deep breaths. His eyes trace down the contours of her soft waist and he spots her tattoo. The floral one that winds around her body decorating it with flowers and leaves. The one that was dangerous to Rehman's sanity.
“Meri jaan-” Rehman groaned in pain as his hands reached forward to reach for her. Rehanna doesn't respond as she simply holds his eyes and begins walking backwards towards their new bed. She drags her left hand along her body, the emeralds and diamonds of her ring catch on the moon light and refract to make it glow. Her hand cups one of her breasts through her lacey bra. That snaps him. That snaps Rehman entirely. He stalks forward, walking with the gait of a lion to accommodate for his heavy throbbing cock pressing against his boxers and salwar.
The backs of Rehanna’s legs hit the bed and she drops down onto it, the expensive cotton bedsheet cool against her flushed skin. She lays back on the bed as Rehman hovers over her, his arms caging her to the bed. The look in his eyes was positively feral. He leans forward and attacks her throat once again. His earlier kisses had already begun to bruise over and he took the opportunity to press fresh kisses into Rehannas skin. Her hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him down against her. Her chest heaved with the lack of breath. One of his hands trailed along the lace of her bra. He could feel the soft Venetian lace he had had specially ordered for her. What a shame he was about to wreck it.
Rehman's head dipped down to capture one of her half had nipples through the lace of the bra. His hands palmed and groped her soft warm mounds of flesh through the sheer lace cups. His saliva soaked the lace as mouthed at her. He suckled hard through the lace making a ragged moan leave Rehanna as she arched into his touch. He bit down on her nipple through the lace fabric. Making Rehanna hiss as she tangled her fingers in his hair. He didn't let go, his teeth still clamped down gently and he began pulling at the nipple rhythmically. A low groan pulled from her chest as she felt the sparks travel from her breast to her clit.
“R-Rehman!” She hissed as his teeth scrape her sensitive nipples as he lets go of one breast to terrorise the other with his usual order of licking, sucking, and biting until she what a whining moaning mess under his hands. Beneath him her thighs rubbed together in the search of some sort of friction to address the wetness that had gathered there. She whimpered and cried out as he bit the soft flesh of her breast hard enough to hurt. “Yeh kyun pehna….kyun mujhe pagal kar rahi ho meri jaan?” he rasps hoarsely as he shamelessly rubs his cheeks onto the soft lace of her cups. She gasps breathlessly as he begins kissing down her body “Kyunki yeh ek akhri ehsaan hone wala tha. Aaj sirf ek siyasati daawat hone wali thi na?” Rehanna cries out as Rehman bites down on one of the flowers of her tattoo. His hand parts her thighs without any resistance. “Tabh bhi… Ye kyun pehna? Mujhe kahan dikhane wali thi aap?” He hums as his eyes lock on to the soaked lace of her panties. The sweet scent of her clouds his senses beyond repair.
“Ehsaan…” she hums as she sits back on her elbows, her legs spread wider automatically as his palms rove up and down her thighs. “Aapko ye kabhi dikhta nahi lekin mai toh keh sakti thi ki maine aapka tofa ek bar pehna na?” she tilts her head at him “ab aapki sasishein kehlo ya aapka naseeb…dikh toh gaya aapko” she croons as her hands brush his hair away from his forehead. Rehman's eyes flutter with a groan as he leans into her touch. Her hand fists in his hair as she brings his face down on her body. Rehman takes the hint, his lips kiss along the edge of her panties as his hands run up along her body. He can feel her skin shiver beneath his touch. Rehman groans into her thighs as he inhales the scent of her arousal shamelessly. God he had missed this.
Rehanna gasps as she feels him bite and litter kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Mere inches away from where she needed him. He shuffles down the bed as he makes room for his broad shoulders in between her legs, he pushes her legs apart further until he physically can't anymore. Rehanna watches him in between her legs with hazy eyes. His heated breath fanned over the wet lace in between her legs. He leaned in closer and pressed a shaky kiss through her soaked panties directly onto her clit. Rehman had to swallow back a truly pathetic moan at the taste of her arousal coating his lips. He looked up at her through his eyebrows, he held eye contact with her as he licked her arousal off of his lips. Rehanna’s hand tightened in his hair, her hand pushed the back of his head slightly. The gesture is clear, even to a blind man. Rehman felt his brain physically short circuit. He realized it in real time as his body stopped listening to his brain and his mouth descended wet and hot over her panties.
“Ahh” a loud moan rips from Rehanna’s throat before she can swallow it back. Her head falls back as she feels the strong muscle of his tongue lap at her through the lace. With each stroke of his tongue upwards he presses the tip of his tongue to her clit before he presses a chaste kiss to it. She shivers under the assault as her hips buck naturally, he grunts in displeasure as he wraps an arm around her hips to keep her in pace. Rehman is so desperate that he has abandoned all skill and dexterity with his tongue as he eats her through the lace like a desperate man. Her eyes roll to the back of her head as one of his hands reach up to tweak her sensitive and peaked nipples and at the same time he nips at her puffy clit with his teeth through the lace. “Rehman!” she moans breathily as her back arches into his touch.
Rehman hums into her and with the vibrations reverberating through his chest feels the lace get wetter with his own saliva and gushing waves of her on arousal. His heavy paw like hand rests on her breast as he massages and kneads the flesh in time with how he laps at her. She bucks towards his face with short gasps “Aur…aur chahiye” she moans as she pulls Rehman out from between her legs for a feverish kiss. She can taste herself on his lips as she groans into him. She kisses his mouth with even more hunger. One of his hands pulls the warm flesh of her breast out of the sheer lace cups. The pads of his fingers gently slide along the seam of her lace covered cunt, the sheer amount of gentleness he is using makes her gasp and twitch. Her hands claw at his arms.
“Shh shh meri rooh…. mai jaanta hun.” he whispers against her lips hoarsely as his index and middle fingers hook around the ruined lace fabric of her gusset and move it to the side. He slides his fingers through her wetness twice until they are coated in her slick. Without any warning Rehman's fingers thrust into her tight wet opening. A feverish moan rips from her throat as her body tries to accommodate the intrusion. Her eyes fluttered shut as she writhed on the bed with the burn of his fingers. It was almost like within thirty one days her body had forgotten the feel of him. She was incredibly tight, Rehman could feel her walls fluttering around his fingers. His eyes widened and his breathing swallowed. His cock twitched and leaked pre-cum in his boxers as it begged to be inside of her. A choked moan left Rehanna as she felt herself flutter around him. She gasped as she felt his fingers move inside of her slowly. A guttural groan pulled from her throat as she clamped her legs around his hand to stop him from moving his hand. Pleasure pulled at her navel with each slight shift of his fingers.
“Ruko…” she panted as she pressed the heels of her palms onto her eyelids, her engagement ring flashed under the pale moon light sending another wave of arousal through Rehman. “Please Rehman… rukjao” she gasped. Rehman shifted his arm slightly and a whine pulled from her throat as heat flashed through her body. “Ya allah meri jaan itne kaas ke pakda hai mujhe” he rasped “aap toh meri ungliyan bhi nahi le pa rahi hain” his eyes glittered darkly as he imagined how she would flutter around his massive cock. This was all the fault of thirty one days. Thirty one days without each other had heightened their senses, one touch felt like ten, ten touches felt like a hundred.
Rehman leaned down to capture her freed nipple in his mouth. He latched on with a deep suck as he pulled her soft flesh into his mouth. Rehanna gasped and arched her back as she felt the warmth of his mouth on her bare skin. “Saas lo meri jaan” he all but begged her as he felt her clamp down on his fingers again. “YEH SAB AAPKI GALTI HAI!” she moaned angrily as she felt another flash of heat rise through her, her hands tangled in his hair as she pulled him away from her breast with a wet pop. “Aapne mujhse kyun nafrat ki?” she grit out as she kissed him angrily. Rehman groaned into her mouth as he felt her finally relax around his fingers. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of her slowly. The rough pads of his fingertips rubbing against her internal walls maddeningly well. She gasped against his lips, her mouth opening wider of its own accord.
Rehman pulls away from her lips and begins kissing down the hollow of her throat as he pumps his fingers in and out of her in a steady rhythm. Muscle memory serves him incredibly well and within a few moments he begins tapping against her g spot making stars flash in front of her eyes with each brush of his fingers. He curls and twists them expertly as he tandemly puts his mouth to good use. His free hand rips the soft expensive lace of her bra freeing her breasts entirely as they spill out to his waiting lips. He bites and mouths at the soft mounds as he angles his thumb to rub circles on her puffy clit while his fingers curve in a come here motion again and again. She feels her orgasm build embarrassingly fast but she feels no embarrassment over it. She moans as she arches her back towards his hungry and hot mouth as her hips buck against his fingers.
Rehman can feel she is incredibly close. Her thighs begin to quiver, her payals jingle slightly from the movement. Her walls begin milking his fingers. Her moans begin to get breathier and breathier as they increase in both pitch and frequency. His fingers began swirling in her in figure eights. “Mashallah meri jaan bas aise hi…pata hai ki mai kitna tadap gaya tha yeh khubsurat nazara dekhne ke liye?” he growls against the shell of her ear. Her breath hitches as her eyes flutter shut. Her brows knit together in focus as her mouth hangs open while she pants for breath. Her chest heaves in pleasure as Rehman whispers in her ear again “jaane doh mereliye meri jaan…mai jaanta hun ki aap mere jitna hi tadap rahi ho” His fingers piston in and out of her so fast that the room is filled with obscene squelching sounds of her sopping wet cunt. A whimper leaves her throat as she claws at his arm one final time before she locks and spasms on his fingers with a sharp cry. Waves of pleasure pull at her navel as stars burst behind her eyes.
Rehman moaned as he felt the way her walls milked his fingers. By now he had probably leaked enough pre-cum in his boxers like a juvenile to ruin them for good. He palmed himself through his salwar as he moved her through it. His fingers pistoned in and out of her at a much slower and steadier pace as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead as little whimpers and moans pulled from her throat breathily at the sheer intensity of the orgasm. His cock ached now, there was no other way to describe it. Because that's what happens when you edge yourself to thoughts of this moment for thirty one days and don't let yourself cum. Rehman's cock ached now, he was desperate to feel her.
Gently he pulls his fingers out of her entirely, a low residual pleasure pulls at her navel that makes her hiss at the lack of his fingers. She feels him move off of the bed and her eyes finally flutter open, her pupils are still blown wide. No hints of her brown eyes yet, her eyes are still entirely black with lust as she watches him. She watches how he takes his fingers into his mouth in order to not waste a single drop off her essence. She saw how his eyes rolled to the back of his head, she saw how he moaned at her taste, she saw how his cock twitched violently. Rehanna sat up on her elbows as she continued watching him. She saw how Rehman's hands eagerly fisted in the drawstring of his salwar, his hands yanked impatiently yet the knot didn't open.
Rehanna tilts her head at him as she hears him curse under his breath. She lazily sits up on their bed as she reaches out to his drawstring. “Itni bhi kya jaldbazi hai? Itni tadap meri jaan?” she asks painfully softly with a pointed undertone as she looks into his eyes while she undid the drawstring with one simple tug. Rehman swallows back a moan at the visual in front of him. Her lust intoxicated eyes, her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips. Her bruised neck, her ripped lingerie, her heaving chest, her squirming thighs as she ached for more friction. And most importantly his ring on her finger. “Kuch dikhana hai aapko” he husked as he discarded the last of his clothes.
Rehanna’s eyes darken as she sees his cock stand at attention, fully erect, fully upright. But mostly she was glad her memories did him justice. He was just as big as she remembered and fucking hell he was huge. She licked her lips in anticipation as she dragged her eyes back to his but not before stopping to stare at the tattoo over his heart again. The bruises, bites, and hickies she had left were darkening beautifully. “Kya dikhana hai mujhko?” she hums lightly as she tilts her head. She sits up on her knees by the edge of the bed where Rehman stood before her on the ground. Her hand reaches behind her as she unclaps the shredded and ruined beyond repair green lace bra. She holds it out in front of her, clicking her tongue at the state of it before she tossed it carelessly into the darkness of their bedroom. She hooks her fingers in her equally ruined panties before she slides them off her legs and throws them to have the same fate as the bra.
She now sat in front of him completely bare. Just as bare as he was in front of her. His cock twitched at the sight of her bare body entirely revealed to him. Rehman took one of his fingers and simply pointed to a particular spot on his adonis belt. Along the sculpted V of his abs that flowed into his salwar was another blooming spot of black ink. Rehanna swallows hard again. Right next to the base of his cock, on the highest point of his right thigh, was something written in elegant and clean lined Hindi script. She blinks once. It couldn't be. Rehman had her name tattooed on him. Right next to his cock…like she owned it.
“Rehman…” She trails off breathlessly as she looks between him and the two tattoos on his body. The smug grin on his face is down right shameless as he watches her wide and frantic lust hazed eyes. Her right hand reaches out to gingerly trace the letters inked on his skin. A shiver runs through his body at the feel of her fingers on his bare skin. His fingers curled beneath her chin as he forced her to break the direct eye contact with the tattoo. “Har taur, har tareeke, har taraf, har hisse se mai…. sirf aapka hoon” he spoke between them as he leaned in closer with each word. He captures her lips as his hand comes to cradle her jaw. She moves along with the kiss, letting him lift her onto her knees as his mouth moves against hers.
Rehanna wraps her left hand around his hard and aching cock, she tightens her fist ever so slightly. Rehman can feel the cold metal of the engagement ring on her finger. The cold platinum band against his warm flushed cock is a stark difference that pulls a groan out of his chest as he pulls away from her lips to watch what she was doing to him. Rehman watched with extreme focus as she circled her thumb on his tip to use his own pre cum to help her fist slide along his length. With each pass the moonlight caught the engagement ring. The emerald flashed bright green. Her hand looks so fucking elegant, even while doing an act so filthy her hand is the picture of elegance. Is all he can think of as his breath stutters when she twists her wrist over him.
Her hand begins to gain speed as she darts her eyes between both of his tattoos, her own lust swirling around her like a tornado at this new revelation. In her absence he had gotten the entire haveli re-arranged, lakhs of jewels, and her name tattooed on his very being. All of this for the very real possibility of hearing her say no to him. “Jaan bas” he groans as if he was in pain to stop her, but the way he twitched in her warm palm told her he was incredibly close. “Kyun rukun?” she hums cruelly as she keeps working his length in her palm. “Jaan tapdao mat..mai darkhuast karta hun” he all but moans as her thumb focuses on his tip again. His hand covers hers as he tries to get her to stop her torture.
Rehanna chuckles darkly as she lets go of his cock like he asks and immediately leans upwards to capture his lips again. Rehman meets them with equal fervor as his hands trail over the bare skin of her ass before stopping to squeeze them against him. He keeps his lips on hers for a moment longer before he places his arms on the edge of the bed. Rehanna instinctively moves backwards to give him room to get on the bed. He climbs the bed and settles against the pillows of the headboard. Rehanna watches with hungry eyes as Rehman fists his own cock once in needless preparation.
She straddles his waist. Hovering her dripping cunt over his painfully hard cock, she leans her head forward and trails slow and dangerous kisses down his jaw line. Rehman groans as she reaches her hand down to his hard length once more. She strokes him gently as her lips continue their assault against his neck. She bites down on the junction of his shoulder and he moans as his head falls back against the headboard “Jaan” he whispers like he is in true agony. His voice shoots through her core as she kisses her way down to the tattoo of their initials over his head she hums into his skin as she presses kitten lick kisses over it.
When he feels her tongue dart out between kisses he can’t stop the way his hips buck into her fist. He can feel his control slipping from his hands as he curses again. Before he begs her again Rehanna seems to take pity on him as she sinks down on him in one fell swoop. A scream erupted from her throat at the sheer burn which she muffled in his neck. Rehman himself choked on a moan at the feeling of her tight walls around him. Rehanna knew he was massive, she saw he was massive, but even after all this time nothing ever prepared her for how massive he truly was. When he is buried to his hilt deep inside of her she can feel him bump up against her cervix with incredible ease. Her walls contract and release around him to desperately accommodate him. She whines into his shoulder as her nails dig into his arm, each breath she takes sets off a lazy spark of pleasure in her body.
Rehman groans as he stares at the ceiling to help him control his breathing. She felt fucking phenomenal. So warm, so perfect, so tight, so…his. Each desperate flutter of her walls makes him thank god and curse into the abyss simultaneously. Neither of them are truly ready yet impatience takes over their last sense. Rehanna grips onto his shoulders with a deep breath as she rolls her hips in a circle. A ragged moan pulls out of both of them simultaneously, Rehman's hands fly to her hips as his eyes flutter shut “Jaan” he rasps with a heaving chest. Rehanna’s head falls back as she begins rocking back and forth on him. Breathless gasps pull from her throat when she feels Rehman return each motion. Reanna lifts off of him, his heavy and veined cock dragging against her walls deliciously. She pulls off of him almost entirely before she sinks back down on him. “O-Oh Fuck” She moans wantonly as pleasure burns through her.
“Uugh-” a guttural sound pulls from Rehman's throat “Meri jaan” he whispers breathlessly as he feels her ride him with shallow movements. She whimpers into his mouth as she kisses him, Rehman gasps into the kiss hungrily as his palms on her hips help take the load off of her body, supporting each shallow bounce on his cock. Rehman rocks into her in time with her movements. With each movement her body begins to accommodate his sheer magnitude inside of her. Then she begins riding him in ernest, her ample breasts bounce wildly with each thrust as Rehman's lips latch on to one of the hardened peaks. His hands hold her hips as he meets each of her movements with equal vigour until they were essentially fucking each other in tandem.
Rehanna moves her hips expertly in circles and various different shapes as she rides him. The effort makes sweat roll down her back but the pleasure was much too good to make her stop with exhaustion. Rehman let out growls and muffled grubs of pleasure into her skins as he greedily mouthed at the soft flesh of her breasts. The pendant he had gifted her on Eid bounced in between them with each thrust. Rehman could feel how she tightened around him with each movement. His mouth parted from her nipple with a soft wet pop as he panted for breath. His eyes locked onto the pendant as her hands knit in his hair. With the next bounce of the diamond encrusted letter R her grabs it in his teeth. The chain pulled taught in between them as he thrust upwards harder. She gasped as her neck arched back in blinging pleasure. The pendant pulled tight in between his teeth kept her in place as she chanted his name with small whispers. With one particularly well placed thrust he feels her tighten and quiver around him one final time as she falls off the cliff of pleasure. Her nails dig into his shoulders as the wave of pleasure drowns her for a moment. A sharp cry pulls from her throat as she feels his incessant hardness press up against her cervix.
Rehman groans as he feels the aftershocks of her orgasm try to milk him before he had decided he had given her enough pleasure to deserve to cum. He takes a ragged breath as he braces Rehanna's neck with one of his hands. He uses the strength of his arms to roll them until they are in missionary. She moans weakly at the feeling of him shifting inside of her. Rehman braces himself by placing his hands on either side of her head. Her hands come up and lazily wrap around his neck. He doesn’t resist as he lets Rehanna kiss him sloppily until her kisses fall away from his lips and reach his jawline “ab kisne bola apko rukne ke liye?” she whispers into the shell of his ear as she nips the skin just over his pulse point. He takes a sharp intake of breath as he feels her teeth against his pulse.
She soothes it with her warm tongue before she bites down on his neck hard enough to leave shameless teeth marks. A moan pulls out of Rehman's chest as his hips begin moving of their own volition. “Roka kisi ne nahi aur ab koi kabhi rokega bhi nahi” he growls in her ear as he pulls out of her almost entirely before he slams back in. A gasp pulled from Rehanna's chest as she clawed at his shoulders. Her nails leave painful red marks that make him hiss in pain. The pain of her marking him only intensified the carnal pleasure seeking part of his brain as he rut into her. He ruts into her once. Twice. Thrice. And then he set a maddening rhythm not too fast and not too slow either. But instead a painful combination that ruined both of them.
Each of his thrusts were perfectly timed and paced to make her lose her mind. He hit against her g spot with one thrust. On the next thrust he bumped against her cervix. Then with the next thrust he hit her g spot once more. Fuck he was good. Her breathing was erratic, unable to stabilize. Broken pants and groans pulled from both of them. Rehanna’s hands etched deep lines into the rippled muscles of Rehman’s back. The muscles rippled with each of his powerful thrusts. The pain and the simultaneous pleasure made him hiss and bite her neck. Her nipples brushed against the hard planes of his chest. Each brush sends an electric spark through her as his pubic bone grids into her clit simultaneously. “Mai- Mai- Oh…Oh god” she groaned gutturally as she felt her orgasm approach her like a train. And she stood on the tracks waiting to be hit. Rehman’s cock dragged against her walls deliciously each time he pulled out, the feeling made her shiver. She writhed and moved against the bed with a broken moan as her back arched and stars burst behind her eyes again.
Rehman felt the way her walls clenched and quivered around him, he felt the gnawing pull of pleasure in his own core. He dropped his forehead against hers as his own hips began stuttering in the early pulls of pleasure. “Meri rooh” he moaned as his warning to her. Her walls seemed to pull him in deeper and deeper. He was so incredibly close as he felt heat flash through his body. “Nahi!” Rehanna’s pleasure weakened yet authoritative voice commanded. It was the only thing that managed to cut through Rehman's lusty haze “Nahi nahi…Abhi nahi” she hummed casually as she shuffled upwards on the bed enough for him to slip out of her. He groaned pathetically as his head fell between the valley of her breasts as his cock ached in his ruined orgasm. He felt his cock twitch against her thigh as his heart thrummed violently. “Kyun meri jaan?” he asked her weakly as he looked up at her through his lashes.
Rehanna hummed and kissed his nose gently as she held his face in her hands. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks gently as she caught her breath. His eyes were glassy with lust as his entire body thrummed with need. One month of unwilling and forced celibacy had clearly had an effect on him. She liked how pathetic he was for her in this one moment. She kissed his lips gently and he released a shaky sigh against her lips as he kissed her back like she was the last breath of oxygen on the planet. Her hands tangled in his hair as he lay on top of her his weight entirely helped up with one of his strong arms. “Kyun roka mujhe” he stuttered against her lips as her nails dragged deliciously against his scalp.
“Aise hi” she shrugged with a lazy smirk as she reached between them to stroke his cock gently. He shivered with a pathetic moan in her grip from the simultaneous overstimulation and understimulation. She let go of his length and turned beneath him until she was on her stomach and he hovered over her, balanced on one arm so as to not crush her beneath him. “Badi zaalim mizaz ki hain aap meri jaan” groans Rehman with a ragged chuckle as he sees her shuffle her ass into the air to tantalize him. Once she was settled on her hands and knees she looked behind her, over her shoulder, at Rehman “Aap ko kya laga? Itni asani se mai aapko chhod deti?” she grinned at him as she shuffled her hips back towards him.
Rehman's hands gently ran along the smooth curves of her ass as he set her in the just perfect position. Rehman bit his lip as he nodded wordlessly to what Rehanna was saying. She was right, he was an idiot to assume she would let him off that easily. He let out a sharp breath as he pushed into her again. The difference in temperature alone made Rehman grip her hips tighter in a weak attempt to hold on longer. When he was forced out of her her warm slick had chilled on his hardness in the cold winter night air. Pushing back into her warmth felt like the most comforting place in the entire world. He instantly dropped his forehead to her shoulder blade as he began moving in her shallowly.
Rehanna moaned as she felt him drag against all of her internal walls in just the right angle. This was arguably one of her favorite positions with him because she could feel the sheer weight of him inside of her. She could feel just how perfectly his heavy veined cock dragged against her walls. She was rubbed raw in pleasure and yet she demanded more. She needed more. It was like her body wouldn't allow her to rest until she had quite literally passed out from pleasure. As Rehman began thrusting with a hard and fast pace the heavy four poster wooden bed began creaking. Neither of them paid any heed as the thin flowy curtains shook violently with each movement. It wasn't long before both Rehman and Rehanna felt the tell tale signs of pleasure pull at their core. “Jaan-” gasped Rehman as he bucked into her wildly enough to make the bed thump against the wall.
Rehanna paid him not heed as she fisted the sheets below her as her cries grew breathier and breathier. Each deep thrust of his cock brushed against both her cervix and her g-spot with deadly accuracy. She felt her legs begin to shake as pleasure deepened its hold on her. Her body rocked along with the movement of the bed making her breath hitch as she tried to speak. Rehman held her in place with his hands as he fucked into her with short and hard strokes. He growled in effort as he kissed and bit marks down her spine. The bed was thumping and creaking wildly now as Rehanna felt him twitch inside of her. He moaned as he felt her walls clench around him. “Mujhse ruka nahi jaega” he rasps, his breath hot beside the shell of her ear.
“Pehle mai…Phele mai Rehman” she pants with a broken moan as her hand reaches up over her shoulder to run through his hair as his head rests on her spine. Rehman nodded mindlessly as he kissed her cheek. With a deep breath he steeled himself as he maintained his mind numbing and bed breaking pace. His hand reached forward to rub slow hard circles on her puffy and abused clit. Rehman shifts his posture behind her slightly to have his chest flush against her back as he rut into her like an animal.
They hear it before they can comprehend it, they feel it start to happen before they can process it. The supporting beams beneath the king sized mattress detached entirely from the frame as they snapped cleanly in half. One post of the bed fell entirely and crashed onto the floor. Rehanna screamed his name “REHMAN!” , not just in shock but in the epitome of pleasure. White hot stars burst behind her eyes with a final hard thrust from Rehman along with the heel of his palm grinding against her clit as the bed collapsed beneath them. The mattress collapsed into the hole until the both of them were entirely sunk in the pit. Rehman shamelessly kept thrusting into her tight wet heat that milked him on instinct. “Rehanna!” he groaned into her spine as his hips stuttered into her. “NAHI! NAHI REHMAN!” she warns as she almost goes limp from pleasure.
“Jaan-” he pleads hoarsely “Nahi. App nahi aaoge agar aapko jeene ki khuaish hai” she rasps. Rehman curses violently as he stills inside of her and fights back the instinct to spill his cum deep inside of her.
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Meanwhile at the Baloch Haveli living room @ 1:45 am - January 1st
After Rehanna and Rehman had retired to their room to do god knows what- No actually everyone knows exactly what they were doing in that room. They just decided to have collective amnesia for what they witnessed. But more importantly everyone had decided an urgent baithak was required. Uzair, Yalina, and Donga had rushed out of that room hours ago to come find Hamza and Siyahi. Eventually the entire group and Faizal, who had refused to go to sleep, sat down in the room furthest away from Rehanna and Rehman's new bedroom; they didn't want to risk hearing or god forbid seeing something that could traumatize them. All of them decided they needed to break down the timeline of this relationship because they surely weren't that blind right?....Right?
Now hours later and many cups of chai and many cups of bournvita wala doodh for Faizal the talks were finally winding down. Not because they were done gossiping, but because Hamza had dry heaved one too many times and everyone was genuinely afraid that he might throw up. Everyone sits in comfortable silence finishing their respective cups. Then suddenly a loud woody crash from the floor above startles all of them. All of them, minus Faizal, immediately try to follow the sound and realize with absolute horror what exactly that sound was. That had to have been the bed breaking. Faizal, the innocent child he is, thinks that his Rehanna mummy and Abbu were just so tired they went to bed immediately. So for him a large crash coming from that direction was cause for concern he gasps as he stands up “KYA HUA! WOH THEEK TOH HAI NA? UNK EK BAR DEKH KE AYEN???” Uzair, who realized exactly what that sound was, quickly grabs his nephew by the shoulders. “NAHI NAHI NAHI! KHUDA KE LIYE NAHI!” and grabs Faizal before he can move and sits him back down on the sofa. “Mera matlab…nahi beta sab theek hai…koi darwaza hava se zor se band hogaya hoga..unko kyun disturb karna hai?” Faizal nods in understanding. This must have been what happened.
Hamza feels a wave of nausea and dry heaves once more. Yalina raises her eyebrows at the ceiling and nods in appreciation of what's going on up there. She had supported the concept of this and she now has confirmation of how perfect they are for each other. She looks away to find her boyfriend pale and shaky. He looks like he is about to pass out or throw up. Or maybe throw up then pass out then maybe throw up again. Yalina presses her lips together to prevent herself from laughing. Yalina can't stop the giggles that erupt from her throat at how thoroughly disgusted Hamza looked. She scooted closer to him on the sofa and wrapped an arm around his shoulder as her hand rubbed up and down soothingly. She brings her lips to his ear “Baby tum hamari shaadi ki raat pe bistar nahi todoge?” Hamza understood that she was trying to distract him. He was ever grateful for his beautiful, smart, kind, and amazing girlfriend but this was not the time. “Meri jaan zaroor todunga lekin aaj to inki shaadi ki raat bhi nahi hai…uss raat kya hoga mujhe abhi se dar lag raha hai- BLEGH”
—---------------------------
Rehman's brain acts on pure instinct rather than rational thought. Being denied his orgasm for a second time had snapped the thin thread of sanity that he barely possessed. Effortlessly he flips her into missionary as he stays buried inside of her. A deep whine pulls from her throat as she feels him move. Rehman has Rehanna wrap her hands around his neck and her legs around his waist as he continues to throb inside of her. With his sheer strength he lifts the both of them up as they stay intimately connected. A gasp rips from her throat as her lashes flutter against her cheeks.
She secures herself around his body by wrapping her hands and legs around her tighter to make sure she didn't fall off, not that Rehman would have ever let her get hurt anyway. He uses both of his now free hands to pull the heavy kingsize mattress off the bed. His biceps flex in effort as Rehman growls like an animal. Rehman yanks hard and with a loud thud the mattress lands on the floor. Rehanna gasps at the sheer act of strength she just witnessed from Rehman. She was spent. She was done, so to her, four orgasms were plenty. Or so she thought. The low burn of arousal pools in her lower belly again as she feels her drip onto Rehman as he stays buried deep inside of her.
Rehman groans as his hands roughly brush his hair back before he wraps his hands around her and kisses her deeply enough to make butterflies erupt in her stomach again. He lays her down on the mattress on the floor. In the moonlight that streamed across the mattress on the floor in front of the balcony she can finally see that Rehman has gone entirely feral. She swallows hard as he drops down onto the mattress along with her.
Rehman doesn't speak because his body is screaming at him. Cum. Cum inside of her. Until it dripped out of her for hours. Until she can feel it inside of her even in the morning. His cock twitches in agreement as Rehman grabs her by the waist until both of them are laying on her side. He pulls her flush against him as he wastes no time. He hooks one of her legs over his until she is played wide open for him in the spooning position. Rehanna gasps as Rehman grabs his cock and aligns it with her fluttering opening. He thrusts hard and in one go. Bottoming out at the hilt. Making her breathe shakily in shock. “Oh…oh god”
He pulls out almost completely before he slams into her hard. She screams in pleasure “REHMAN!” each of the veins in his cock rub against her inner walls as he thrusts with a steady pace. It's not long before he feels the need to ask her permission once again. His core burns with the need to cum. “Ijjazat” he rasps hoarsely “Ijazat do meri jaan” he sounds broken like if she denies him this time then he doesn't know what he would do with himself. Rehanna nods frantically as she feels herself fall off the cliff incredibly fast. This orgasm seemed to be the strongest of the night as all she was able to do was stutter out a simple “H-haan Rehman” That was all he needed. He gasped against her neck at the permission. It set off the side in him he was barely able to keep restrained. His hand reaches forward to her clit as he rubs hard and strong circles once again. His hips snapping into her relentlessly as he drives both of them to the edge. “Meri jaan…. Meri jaan…meri jaan” He rasps mindlessly into her skin as he fucks her.
The room is filled with the scent of sex, sweat, lingering perfume, crisp winter night air, and expensive broken wood. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and barely muffled screams and groans. The waves of their shared orgasm were violent as she jerked against him. He fucked her through it. White stars burst behind her eyes as she moaned his name desperately, she felt herself soak the sheets as she came on him a final time. He followed soon after. A guttural and ragged groan pulled from his throat as his hips stuttered violently. His cock twitched and pulsed inside of her tight heat as he painted her walls white. He moaned pathetically as he felt his cum leak out of her, the load he pushed deep into her was truly massive he realizes after he feels a heavy weight lift out of his core. He was truly entirely spent. He breathes shakily into her hair. The lingering scent of her perfume, his cologne, and the scent of their sex clouds the both of them.
Neither one of them has the strength to speak or move. Rehman's hand finds her left hand. The one that had his engagement ring on her ring finger. He held her hand as he felt the platinum of the band press against his fingers. Sleep pulled on both of their arms like a wave ready to drown them. For the first time in 31 days both Rehanna and Rehman answered the call of sleep with a smile on their face. They were back home. With each other. In each other's arms
—--------------------------
Next day, January 1st @ 9 am
Rehanna and Rehman's master bedroom, Baloch haveli, Lyari, Pakistan
A strange combination of sunlight piercing through her eyelids and a buzzing phone pull Rehanna out of her deep and luxurious sleep. Her eyes blinked open and sunlight attacked them violently. Her head turned slightly and she blinked as she saw that the floor was extremely high. It took her a good moment to remember where she was. Her eyes flick to the sheesham bed where they should have been sleeping and sees the splintered wood sticking out at odd angles. She grins slightly, oh right they had done that. She shifts the slightest bit and feels Rehman's strong arms tightening around her waist as his head buries against her chest with a sleepy sigh. She has half a mind to simply shut her eyes and go back to sleep.
But her buzzing phone threatens to shred the peace. She sighs softly as she manages to untangle one arm from Rehman even as he protested in his sleep by wedging his thigh in between hers to pull her closer. “Haan Kaun?” Rasps Rehanna's sleepy voice into the speaker as she finally manages to bring the phone to her ear.
—------------------------
What neither Rehanna nor Hamza didn’t notice at the event last night was the man holding the camera video taping the entire event. A deep undercover agent that was sent to shadow Hamza and Rehanna for their own safety was standing in the shadows at the back of the room. From his position he had a clear vantage point of everything in the room. Once Rehanna and Rehman left the event he slunk away in the shadows.
Once he reached safely to his motorcycle he sighed in relief before he looked at the precious footage he was holding in his hands. He himself had been in shock the entire event at the revelation but he knew one man would be shocked even more than he was. He quickly unlocked the phone and on an encrypted server he sent the video to one man. As soon as he hit send he quickly dialed a secured phone line “Himmat sir.” He began speaking into the phone when he heard the phone pick up “Abhi dekho maine kya bheja hai….aapka dimag phat jaega. Pure office ko dikhana!” He exclaimed before he promptly cut the call and cursed the phone entirely under his foot. He drove his motor cycle over it once more just to be sure.
In the New Delhi R&AW office it was the night of new years eve and he was just about to let everyone off just a bit early to be a nice boss once in a while. But when he received a cryptic message like this he sighed knowing that his hopes of going home to his wife and daughter to celebrate new years. Himmat pulled out his personal phone and dialed his wife's number which he had saved as ‘asli boss’ as soon as the line clicked Himmat began speaking “Haan Saroj? Suno mai ghar nahi aa paunga aaj raat” sighed Himmat as he ran a hand through his hair “Kyun?” hums Saroj “Yaar…. Woh jo hai na meri dimag garam aur bp high karne wali biwi Pakistan me?....Lagta hai ki woh naya saal ek kaand ke sath chalu karna chahati hai” Saroj laughed knowingly that he was talking about Rehanna. “Chalo khana sahi se kha lena!..aur usko zyada kuch kehna mat” Says saroj as she cuts the call. Himmat sighs as he walks to the door of his office “Mai kya hi kahunga?” he opens the door as he yells out “OI KOI PROJECTOR LAGAO AUR POPCORN MANGWAO”
—--------------------------
“Wah wah wah” croons Himmat’s smug voice through the phone. Rehanna grins at hearing himmats voice “Maan gaye hum apko devi ji” he says in genuine awe and admiration. Rehanna hums sarcastically “Bhen ke laude…. tune hi mujhe doubt kiya tha us din” she ends dryly as she brushes hair out of Rehman's handsome sleeping face. Himmat sighs as he swallows back his choice words “Sorry yaar. Mujhe chinta ho gayi thi….but yaar kya pyaar ke jaal me phasaya hai by god. Khahan hai woh bhadwa?”
Rehanna grins as she realizes she knows exactly how to take revenge on Himmat. She grins like a Cheshire cat and stretches like one. Her body feels wonderfully sore, her muscles exhausted and loose. “Kaun humare mangetar sahab? Hone wale shauhar sahab?” she hums as she feels Rehman pull her closer in his deep sleep. Soft snores escaping him, she knew he was out like a light. Himmat pauses as he asks now unsurely, he had a bad feeling about the tone in Rehanna’s voice. “...Haan? I mean I guess.”
Rehanna's grin is absolutely diabolical as she whispers into a phone. “...Kal raat se mere andar hain.” Which was a lie, yes, but not entirely. Rehanna can feel him half hard against her thigh, the warm weight of him against her feels both comforting and incredibly hot. Even in his sleep he was incredibly affected by her. She shifts slightly and feels how he pushes his hips forward to press his hardness against her with a deep rumbling hum in his morning voice. Rehanna can't muffle the small gasp that pulls from her throat as she feels him stir against her. Himmat blinks as he realizes what that statement means and the fact that that gasp wasn't innocent at all. He gags and cuts the call.
Rehanna grins at Himmat’s disgust. That's what he deserves for yelling at her after her and Rehman's fight. She tosses the phone onto the mattress and cuddles into Rehman. Her head on his chest and when he feels her get closer to him he instinctively pulls her closer to him. His hands wrap around her waist tighter as he sleepily inhales the scent of her hair. He sighs happily as his fingers dance along her waist, his sleepiness vanishing slowly as he feels his hardness against her warm hip. His large warm palm moves down to cup her ass. “Kiska phone tha meri jaan” he rumbles in his sleepy raspy voice. The caliber of it makes a shiver run down her spine, Rehman uses it to his advantage to grind her hip against his hardness. “Koi nahi tha” she hums as her hand rests on his chest, her finger tracing a heart on the tattoo above his heart. “Woh karachi wale client ka phone tha”
Rehman hums as he slowly opens his eyes. He himself blinks in confusion as to what the both of them were doing laying on their mattress on the floor. A smug grin pulls on his face as flashes of last night flash in his mind. He was incredibly proud of himself for breaking that bed….Now he wanted to see if he could out do himself. He pulls her impossibly closer, almost grinding into her. He moves her like she is weightless as he lifts her onto his chest. Her messy hair falls over her face and tickles his chest. Her payal chan softly with the movement her left hand clad with her engagement ring rested directly over his heart. For a moment he just stares at her sleepy face, her eyes open barely yet the diamonds on her ears glitter so blindingly in the morning light they highlight her eyes. Her bare warm body pressed against his. Her cheeks slightly pink, her lips curving in a small smile as she tilts her head “Good morning” she hums softly. Rehman's breathing stalls for a moment, her beauty was angelic in this very moment. Rehman had dreamed of this moment, and now he finally had it. And it was better than he could have dreamed. “Subha khair meri jaan” he hums as he tucks a stand of hair behind her ear.
She muffles a sleepy yawn into his chest, her body curling into his as much as physically possible without their atoms combining. She lifts her head up again to look at him “Chalein uthe phir? Haath mu dhoke kuch khate hain” she hums. Rehman lets a long weary sigh as he runs his hand along her side. “Hmm…mujhe uthna nahi hai.” Rehanna tilts her head at him “Toh phir kya karna hai?” Rehman smirks as he gets the opening he was looking for. He reaches in between them and slides the heavy swollen tip of his fully hard cock through her slit. “R-Rehman!” Rehanna gasps as both of her hands land on her chest to brace herself. Rehman smirks like the devil as he feels her get wetter with each drag of his cock through her slit. “Rehman! Ye zyada nahi ho raha?” she laughs against his chest. “Chalo na meri jaan…ek aur bar” he reasons, crinkling his eyes as he fights the smirk on his face in an attempt to look genuine. Rehanna feels his tip circling around her entrance and a shivering moan leaves her throat.
“Reh-Rehman thodi sharam karlijiye aapne kal raat ek bistar toddiya” She tries to reason, trying to weakly push out of his arms. A part of her just wanted to stay in bed with him all day but the other part of her was hungry for the paratha she could smell cooking downstairs. Rehman grips her waist tighter with a grin that he can't hide anymore “Nahi karni mujhe sharam…aap meri hain. Meri mangetar meri marzi” he chuckles darkly as he flips them over so he is hovering over her. Rehanna’s legs seem to make a decision on their own accord as they spread open for him. “Lekin mujhe bhook lagi hai!” she whines half-heartedly as her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he lined them up again “ Iske baad mai aapko apne haton se khilaunga. Theek hai?” he hums. “Achha theek hai-” but before she can answer fully he buries into her tight wet warm heat in one fell swoop. A scream rips from her raw throat which she muffles into his neck as he begins moving slowly with a wolfish grin on his face.
—--------------------
Same day @ 2 pm
Living room, Baloch haveli, Lyari, Pakistan
Rehanna never should have trusted Rehman, she thinks as she glares at the back of his head while he gently leads her down the stairs. Dressed in Rehman's pathani kurta and her own pajama her boneless legs wobbled violently on one of the steps and Rehman turned around to stabilize her waist “Samhalke jaan” he hums softly. Instead of soft grateful eyes he was met with a glare hard hot enough to melt a glacier “Agar aaj subha aap sirf ek baar pe ruke hote toh phir yeh abhi meri ye halat nahi hoti” Rehanna glares at him as she descends one more step with his support and a little wince. Rehman grins sheepishly, an uncharacteristic blush creeping up his neck.
Rehanna blinks at the visual. Was she mad at Rehman for going for 4 rounds as soon as they woke up, when he only promised her one and then something to eat after that one round? Yes she was. But. But the blushing gangster who was helping her down the stairs melted her heart entirely. She was about to say something to dismiss the matter but then Rehman opened his stupid mouth “Lekin aap bhi toh mera naam chillaa rahi thi aur mujhse keh rahi thi ‘Rehman! aur chahiye!’ ab aap batayie mai kaise rukta?” He shrugged slightly as he walked down one more step. He pulled her hands slightly to have her follow him down one more step but she was frozen on the previous step. Rehman lifted his head to find Rehanna staring at him with one eye squinted and one eye raised, her lips parted like she was barely restraining her words. Rehanna could not believe the words coming out of Rehman's mouth.
“Agar ek aur lafz bola aapne…. toh mai ye angoothi aap pe phek ke marungi” she said dangerously, her eyes meaningfully pointing to the engagement ring before they landed back on Rehman. Rehman swallowed under her intense gaze, he had emotional whiplash from the mood a few minutes ago to now. Just a few moments ago Rehman was having a lovely post sex shower with her, gently washing her body with soap as he counted how many times he marked her the night before and in the morning. His favorite part was her neck which looked like it had been attacked by a vampire. He had frowned when she insisted on at the very least covering the sheer intensity of it with some makeup. He had gone to their closet to pull out her clothes for her but she had shocked him when she had said she would like to wear one of his kurtas. Rehman instantly melted at the request as he helped her sore limbs get dressed in his white pathani kurta along with a comfy pair of her sweatpants.
That was barely ten minutes ago and now she threatened to throw her engagement ring at him because he had the audacity to say the truth. “Aree meri jaan itna gussa?” he hums as he brings her ring clad hand to his lips. He kissed each knuckle and pressed a long kiss to her ring. Rehanna sighed as she shut her eyes and looked at the ceiling. She slowly looked back at Rehman with a flat expression “Rehman….” she began slowly “Mujhe bohot tez BHOOK lagi hai” she emphasizes as she yanks her hands away from Rehman. She pushes past him and manages to wobble two more steps on her own using the railing of the staircase. Rehman watches in quiet amusement as she stops on the second stop she descends. She still has 10 more stairs to go. She sighs as she looks over her shoulder “....Madat kardo meri” she says with a begrudging sigh. Rehman bits back a grin that might get him slapped as he silently walks to her. Eventually the both of them make it to the ground floor.
As soon as her feet hit the ground floor Rehanna hears two barking dogs bound towards her at full speed. Their tails wagging so fast they might take off. Rehanna braces instinctively as she expects them to bash into her. But before they can Rehman lets out one short sharp whistle and Both Raja and Sultan skedaddle to a stop right in front of her. Eyes big and wide, bodies shaking in excitement as they stare at Rehanna. Rehanna crouches down with a joyful squeal as she ignores her pain. She lets the both of them jump all over her in excitement. “AHHHH mere bacho oo” she squeals as her hands get immediately occupied petting both large wolf like german shepherds. They try to lick her face but she dodges them expertly. Rehman watches the reunion with a fond smile on his face.
“Rehman!? Kahan the mere bachhe?” she asks as she pets Sultan's belly and scratches Raja’s chin. Both dogs melt for her turning into puppies as they nudge her with their paws and noses so she doesn't stop. Their tails still wagging hard enough to sweep the floor. “Raat ko bahar the dono meri jaan” Hums Rehman as he crosses his arms over his chest. Rehanna looks at him immediately “KYUN!?” she exclaims at him before she looks at the dogs again and baby talks them “awwwiieee mere bachhus ko bahar kyun rakha? Kyun mummy ki yaad nahi ayi?” she asks them as she presses a kiss to Raja’s forehead. Raja whimpers and whines to her like he was trying to talk to her. Rehman sighs as he answers, he knows she might take issue with the answer. “Mai nahi chahata tha ki koi humare beech me badha daale…mai aapko sirf apne paas rakhna chahata tha”
Rehanna’s hands stop immediately in both dogs' furs. Anger, annoyance, and disbelief flood her but she stays calm as she responds “Theek hai toh phir aaj raat aap bahar rehna” She says plainly “Mai sirf inko apne paas rakhna chahati hun. Mai nahi chahati ki beech me koi badha dale” She humphs at him as she gets up shakily and walks away from a flabbergasted and off guard Rehman with the dogs hot on her tail. “Meri jaan! Rehanna! Aisa mat bolo!” Rehman calls after her as he follows her. His soul felt fear at this threat of hers. He never wanted to spend a second away from her and she was talking about an entire night? Absolutely not.
As Rehman followed after Rehanna both Sultan and Raja turned around and barked sharply at Rehman. The bark signified something along the lines of back off she is ours. Rehanna watched as she muffed her laugh behind her hand. Never in all of her time in the haveli had she seen the dogs behave in this way with Rehman. Rehman blinked at his dogs, they had never behaved with him like this. Ever. Rehman's jaw sets as he lets out another low whistle command as he points to the side. This was their command to move out of the way. Both dogs somehow managed to roll their eyes at Rehman as they pad over to Rehanna again. They heel on either side of her and watch Rehman disinterestedly. Rehman's mouth hangs open in shock at the blatant disrespect by his dogs. “Itnni zurrat? Tumdono ko toh mai baad me theek karta hun” Rehman shakes his finger at both dogs. Rehanna limps over to Rehman shaking her own finger at him “Bachho ko dhamki mat do warna mai aapko theek na kardun?” Before he can answer she turns away with a hmph “Bade aye mere bachon ko dhamkane wale” but there was no real anger in her voice.
In fact she seemed to be biting back a grin as she kept the facade of mock anger on her beautiful face. She walks away towards the kitchen and he follows helplessly. And as Rehman walks behind her trying to convince her to not be so cruel he realized that he was so deeply and painfully in love with her. And he was more than happy to die drowning in her love.
Khush?
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