PENTHOUSE IN DELHI

The moment they heard the news, everyone started scrambling to leave. Shahveer was already moving toward the door when he suddenly shouted for his son.

"Zaid!" 

His voice echoed through the house. The police officer's last words were still ringing in his ears.

We found someone in a warehouse.

Ya Allah.

Please.

He just wished it wasn't his daughter-in-law.

Zaid heard his father's voice from upstairs. He had been standing by the window, staring outside without really seeing anything, when he ran downstairs. The moment he reached the living room, he stopped. The horror on everyone's faces told him enough.

Mahira had tears streaming down her face. Aarohi was crying too. Shahveer and Yuvaan were trying their hardest to stay strong, while Chandani and Raghav stood there with their gazes lowered.

Zaid's heart dropped. His voice came out barely above a whisper, rough and strained.

"What is it?"

Not Abba.

Not Ammi.

Not even Aap.

Just those three words. Because he was already afraid of the answer. He looked at his father, almost as if begging him without saying it. 

Please tell me Ava is okay.

Please.

Please don't tell me something happened to my wife.

Shahveer swallowed hard. "The police found someone in a warehouse." For a second, Zaid didn't move. It was like his entire body had stopped listening to him.

A warehouse. His mind immediately went to Ava. Ava alone. Ava scared. Ava hurt.

He didn't even realize he had stopped breathing until Mahira grabbed his arm.

"Zaid, bache... we have to go."

(Bache = Child)

That was all it took. He turned and rushed outside. He didn't ask anything else. He didn't want to hear anything else.

He got into the driver's seat, with Chandani and Raghav getting in beside him. Yuvaan, Aarohi, Mahira and Shahveer followed in another car.

The moment Zaid started driving, his foot pressed hard against the accelerator. He drove like a madman. His eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. He kept blinking, trying to clear his vision, trying to push every horrible thought out of his head.

But it wasn't working.

He knew what happened in warehouses. He knew the kind of people who used places like that.

And the thought of Ava being there—

Ya Allah.

No.

He couldn't even finish the thought. Maybe she was okay. Maybe she had only been kidnapped. Maybe the police had found her in time. Maybe she was scared, maybe she was hurt, but she was alive. She had to be alive.

"Ya Allah... please let her be safe." The words slipped out of him before he could stop them.

"Please."

Chandani, sitting beside him, looked at her brother. She had never seen him like this. Not even when things had gone terribly wrong. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Bhai..." she whispered. "Chinta mat kijiye. Bhabhi strong hai. She knows you'll come for her."

(''Brother....don't worry Sister in law is strong.'')

Zaid didn't answer.

Because what could he say?

That he was scared? That every second felt like someone was slowly tearing his heart apart? That he kept thinking about all the moments when he should have protected her and hadn't?

No.

He couldn't say any of it. His eyes stayed fixed on the road. Because somewhere inside him, one thought kept repeating.

I should have been there.

He was her husband. He was supposed to protect her.

And now she was somewhere in a warehouse while he was driving there, praying that he hadn't already failed her.

Soon, the warehouse came into view. Zaid barely brought the car to a proper stop. He got out before anyone could say anything and stormed inside.

Police officers were scattered around the place, talking among themselves. His eyes immediately searched the entire area.

Nothing. No Ava. His heart started beating even faster. Then he spotted Pandey. The police officer who had been assigned to Ava's case. Zaid walked straight toward him. There was something almost frightening in his expression now.

Not anger. Not exactly. It was fear. Raw, buried fear that he was trying desperately to keep under control.

He stopped in front of Pandey. His voice came out low, almost a growl. "Where is my Ava?"

He stared at the officer, holding onto those four words like they were the last thing keeping him standing. "Where is my wife?"

Pandey looked at Zaid. He was forty-five and had worked with the Zoravar family for years. He had seen Zaid grow up right in front of his eyes—from a little boy who always seemed far too mature for his age to the man standing in front of him now.

Zaid had always been different. Even as a child, he understood things better than most adults around him. He had always used his mind before his anger. Even after entering politics and being surrounded by people who were willing to cross every possible line, Zaid had never allowed himself to become like them.

He never shouted. He never raised his hand. He never took a step that would lead to violence. He fought with his words, his mind and his principles. Never with his fists.

But the man standing in front of Pandey right now didn't look like that Zaid. This was a Zaid Zoravar Pandey had never seen before. His eyes were filled with rage. Not the kind that came from anger alone.

There was pain in them.

Fear.

Guilt.

And something far more dangerous.

It looked like he was holding himself together by a single thread, and if Pandey gave him even one reason to believe that something had happened to Ava, that thread would snap.

"I AM ASKING YOU SOMETHING!"

He simply stormed inside not waiting for a answer anymore. The officers stood frozen for a moment, watching him disappear deeper into the warehouse.

Because every single one of them had seen Zaid Zoravar before.

But never this Zaid.

And then—

Zaid saw her. He froze. Completely. His eyes widened as they fell on the crumpled body lying on the floor.

"Ya Allah..."

The words barely left his mouth.

And then the scream came.

A scream that tore straight from his throat, raw and broken, filled with so much rage and pain that everyone outside the room stopped moving.

"NO!"

His voice echoed through the warehouse. He stared at her.

Ava.

His Ava.

The woman who had smiled at him that morning.

The woman whose soft voice used to call him "Zaid ji."

There was no sound from her now.

Nothing.

She lay completely pale against the cold floor. The saree she had been wearing that morning was crumpled around her, ruined and dirty. Her lip was split, blood dried along the corner of her mouth as if someone had hit her hard enough to make her bleed.

Zaid's jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. His eyes moved lower. Her wrists. Bruised. Marked.

Someone had held her there. Someone had hurt her.

And suddenly all the fear inside him turned into something else.

Rage.

A rage so deep that for a moment he couldn't even feel anything else. He would find them. Whoever had done this. Whatever it took. He would find them. He didn't care who they were or how powerful they thought they were. He would tear everything apart to make sure no one ever touched his wife like this again. He would burn all of Lucknow to the ground if that was what it took to keep Ava safe.

And then his eyes dropped to her waist.

He froze again. His entire body stiffened.

No.

His eyes refused to believe what they were seeing.

"Ya Allah..."

His voice broke.

"No... no, please."

He took one step closer.

And then he saw them clearly.

The burns. The marks left behind by something brutally hot. His face changed. Whatever rage had been burning inside him suddenly disappeared beneath something far worse.

Horror.

He knew those marks. He had seen burns like that before. A hot iron rod. Someone had used one on her. Someone had deliberately burned Ava. His breathing stopped.

For the first time since he had entered the warehouse, Zaid couldn't move. Couldn't shout. Couldn't think. Couldn't even breathe properly.

"Oh God..." His knees gave out. He collapsed beside her. His hands hovered over her waist, shaking violently, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her.

He was terrified that even the slightest touch would hurt her more.

His eyes stayed fixed on the burns.

And suddenly, all he could think about was one thing.

I wasn't there. His wife had been hurting. She had been calling for someone. Maybe she had called for him.

And he hadn't been there.

His lips trembled. "Ava..." Nothing. His voice disappeared. He swallowed hard, tears finally slipping down his face. "I'm sorry."

His hand moved toward her but stopped again. "I should've been there." His voice broke completely. "I should've protected you."

He couldn't say anything else. He simply sat there beside her, staring at the woman he loved as if his mind had completely stopped working.

Then footsteps rushed in behind them.

Chandani.

Raghav.

Shahveer.

Mahira.

Aarohi.

Yuvaan.

They all stopped.

For a moment, nobody said a word. The sight in front of them was enough.

Chandani's hand flew over her mouth as a choked sob escaped her. Raghav's face went pale. He looked away almost immediately, covering his mouth as nausea hit him.

Mahira couldn't hold herself together. A sob tore from her chest and her knees buckled.

Shahveer caught her before she fell, wrapping an arm around his wife while trying to keep himself standing.Aarohi buried her face against Yuvaan's shirt, crying uncontrollably.

 And in the middle of all of them sat Zaid.

Completely broken.

Shahveer looked at his son. His own eyes were wet, but his voice came out firm. "Zaid."

Nothing.

"Beta, pick her up."

Zaid didn't move.

Shahveer's voice became louder.

"Zaid! What are you waiting for? Pick her up!"

That finally reached him. Zaid looked down at Ava again. His hands were still shaking. He carefully slipped one arm beneath her shoulders and the other beneath her knees.

He lifted her as gently as he could. Her head fell against his chest.

And that nearly broke him all over again.

He held her closer. "Ava..." he brushed her blonde hair away from her face his fingers trembling. His voice was barely there. Shahveer rubbed Mahira's back before turning toward Pandey.

His expression hardened.

"What were you waiting for, Pandey? You couldn't even call the ambulance?"

Pandey froze. His throat felt dry. "Ji, Sahab... abhi karte hain."

(''Yes, Sir... I will do it now.'')

He immediately turned toward the officers.

"Call the ambulance! Jaldi!"

(Jaldi = Now)

One of the officers rushed outside to make the call. Pandey remained standing near the door. His hands went behind his back.

He looked toward Zaid. Toward Ava.

And then away.

Because there was something he hadn't told them. Something he didn't know how to say. He couldn't bring himself to tell the Zoravar family the truth. Not yet. Not when Zaid was already holding his wife like he was terrified she would disappear if he loosened his arms.

Pandey swallowed hard. The ambulance would take ten minutes.

And for the first time in his entire career, Pandey found himself praying that those ten minutes would pass quickly.

A few hours ago.

Zaid had shown up at the police station. The moment he stepped inside, the entire atmosphere changed.

People stopped talking. Officers looked up from their desks. Even the constables who had been busy with their work went quiet. Because whenever Zaid Zoravar came to the police station, it was usually never like this.

He would come with sweets during festivals. Sometimes gifts for the officers and their families. He knew their names. Asked about their children. Spoke to everyone with the same respect, whether they were senior officers or constables.

But today—

Nobody dared come near him. His face was completely unreadable. His eyes were deadly serious. There was something dangerous in them. Something the people inside that station had never seen before.

It was almost as if something inside Zaid Zoravar had finally been unleashed.

And it had.

Lucknow simply didn't know it yet. But they would. Because Lucknow had seen Zaid Zoravar as a politician.

They had seen him as a son. A brother. A Kind human being A man who always chose his words carefully and never allowed anger to make his decisions for him.

But Lucknow had never seen Zaid Zoravar in love.

Never as a husband.

They were about to.

Pandey, who had been sitting at his desk drinking chai, immediately stood up.

He swallowed hard.

"Sahab... aap yahan?"

(''Sir... you are here?'')

His voice carried the same respect it always did. But Zaid didn't respond to the greeting. He walked straight toward him. His eyes never left Pandey's.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

Cold.

"Listen to me."

Pandey straightened.

"If you find my wife..." Zaid paused, his jaw tightening. "You don't touch her."

Pandey blinked.

Zaid stepped closer. He didn't want them touching her because he knew she didn't like being touched and unnecesaary attention.

"Don't you dare touch her."

There was no politeness in his voice now. No aap. No respect for the age difference. Nothing except a warning.

"I am telling you right now, Pandey. If you touch my wife without my permission, I will have your career finished by this evening."

Pandey stared at him. He had worked with the Zoravar family for years. He had watched this boy grow into the man standing before him. Zaid had never spoken to him like this. Not once. Not even when he was angry. But today, there wasn't just anger in his eyes. There was fear. The kind of fear that made a man dangerous.

Zaid didn't wait for an answer. He turned around and walked out. Pandey remained standing where he was, his cup of chai still in his hand. He stared at the door long after Zaid had disappeared. Because the man who had just threatened him didn't feel like the Zaid Zoravar he knew.

And somewhere deep down, Pandey knew something terrible had happened.

He just didn't know yet...

how terrible.

About three hours later...

The hospital corridor was painfully quiet. Shahveer stood leaning against the wall, his arms folded tightly across his chest, while Mahira sat beside Aarohi, still crying.

Every few minutes, she would wipe her tears only for them to return again.

"How did we not keep her safe?" she whispered through her sobs. "She was our daughter... how did we let this happen?"

Aarohi kept rubbing her back, trying to calm her down, but there was nothing she could really say.

Because she was asking the question everyone was asking themselves.

How had they failed Ava?

Yuvaan stood a little away from them, his jaw clenched so tightly that it hurt. Chandani sat beside Raghav, unusually quiet.

There were no jokes. No teasing. Nothing.

And then there was Zaid.

He stood outside the operating room.

Still.

Completely still.

His eyes hadn't left the closed doors for hours. The woman he loved was behind them. The woman he had promised would always be safe with him. The woman he had failed to protect.

His face was blank, almost emotionless. But his hands were clenched at his sides. Every sound from inside made his heart stop for a second. He could hear his mother's cries behind him. His father's attempts to comfort her.

But he didn't turn around.

He couldn't. His eyes remained fixed on the doors as if staring hard enough would somehow give him an answer.

Is she okay?

Is she alive?

Will she come back to me?

Would she even want to stay in this marriage anymore?

He had no answers. Only silence. Then hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Everyone looked up. Inaya came running down the hallway. She had been away for community work when she saw the news.

The moment she realized what had happened, she had abandoned everything and rushed back. Her eyes were already filled with tears.

She ran straight toward her parents. "Ammi!"

Mahira immediately stood and pulled her daughter into her arms and Inaya's purse almost fell on floor.

Inaya clung to her.

"Ammi, what happened? Bhabhi... she's okay, right?"

She pulled back slightly, searching her mother's face.

"It's just a kidnapping, right? She's okay?"

Mahira's lips trembled.

"Inaya... Ava..."

She couldn't finish. The memory of Ava lying on that warehouse floor came rushing back. Her bruised wrists. Her bloodied lip. Those burns. Mahira broke down again.

"She..."

Nothing came out.

Inaya's face fell. She didn't need the rest of the sentence. She understood from her mother's tears.

Shahveer immediately wrapped an arm around both of them, holding his wife and daughter close.

And still—

Zaid didn't move. His gaze remained fixed on the operating room doors. As if they were the only thing keeping him standing.

Then footsteps echoed again.

Two familiar voices called his name.

"Zaid..."

For the first time in hours, Zaid turned. He looked toward the end of the corridor.

Samar stood there. He had only returned from America that very day after completing his studies, still dressed casually in a shirt and trousers, his hair slightly messy from rushing there.

Beside him was Shahmir. Still dressed in the formal suit he had worn for his business meeting, his Italian shoes clicking against the hospital floor as he hurried toward them.

The moment they reached him, neither of them asked questions. Samar pulled Zaid into a hug. Shahmir joined them.

And that was it.

Whatever Zaid had been holding inside him for the past three hours finally broke. His shoulders shook. His hands gripped the backs of their shirts.

And then he cried.

Not quietly. Not the controlled tears he had allowed himself earlier.

He broke down completely. Because these were the two people he didn't have to explain himself to.

They knew him. They knew what Ava meant to him. They knew because they had seen it before anyone else. They remembered the video call. The first time Zaid had spoken about her after meeting her. He had been completely different that day.

Happy. Almost annoyingly expressive. Talking about her like he had found someone he hadn't even known he was looking for.

Samar had teased him for it. Shahmir had simply smiled because he already knew. Their best friend was in love. And somewhere during that conversation, Zaid had said it without hesitation.

"I'll take care of her." 

He had smiled then.

"I'll protect her. I'll keep her happy. No matter what happens."

It had been a promise. A promise Zaid had meant with everything inside him.

And now the same man stood in their arms, shaking as he tried to breathe through his tears.

Samar held him tighter. Shahmir's hand moved to the back of Zaid's head. Neither of them said the usual words.

Everything will be okay.

Don't worry.

Be strong.

They knew better. There was nothing they could say that would make this easier. Not right now. So they simply stayed. Holding their best friend while he cried.

No explanations. No questions. No empty promises.

Just two people who knew that sometimes the only thing you could do for someone you loved...

was stay beside them until they could breathe again.

FLASHBACK TO SIX MONTHS AGO

Zaid had just returned home after meeting Ava. It was probably the thousandth arranged marriage meeting his mother had arranged for him.

And honestly, he hadn't expected anything from this one either.

He had gotten used to being rejected. Apparently, Zaid Zoravar was too boring. That was the word he had heard more than once.

He didn't even blame people for calling him that. Because he was too boring. He didn't go to parties. He didn't drink. He didn't swear or cuss. He didn't flirt with women just for the sake of it. He prayed. He worked.

He spent most of his time fighting for the things he believed mattered—better opportunities for children, rights for both men and women, and support for people who had no one standing beside them.

Especially orphans.

Because Zaid knew what it felt like to be someone who needed another person to care. He had never wanted power just for himself. Maybe that was what made him boring to everyone else.

But Zaid didn't mind. He had never wanted to become someone he wasn't just to make people like him. So when his mother told him about Ava, he had gone to meet her without expecting anything.

Her father was half-American and half-Indian, while her mother was fully Indian and, more importantly, one of Mahira's closest college friends.

Zaid had assumed it would end the same way the others had. A polite conversation. A few cups of tea.

And then a gentle rejection.

But Ava hadn't looked at him like the others had.

She hadn't looked bored. She hadn't seemed uncomfortable. She hadn't spent the entire meeting trying to find an excuse to leave. She had simply sat there.

In that red sharara. Soft-spoken. Kind. Listening to him.

And for some reason, Zaid couldn't stop looking at her.

He remembered it clearly. Her mother had brought everyone chai. The cups were being passed around while the families talked, but Zaid wasn't really listening anymore.

His eyes kept drifting toward Ava.

Ya Allah...

She was beautiful. Not just beautiful in the way people usually meant it. There was something gentle about her. Something that made him want to keep looking.

Like someone Allah had created with an unusual amount of care and tenderness.

And then—

The tea cup tilted. Zaid barely noticed it. One second it was in Ava's hand.

The next, the cup slipped dangerously toward him. The hot chai was about to spill all over his clothes. But Ava reacted before he could even move.

She jumped up. She grabbed the cup with her bare hand and pushed it away. The cup hit the floor. Chai splashed everywhere. Including over her hand.

Zaid froze.

"Ava!"

Everyone immediately stood up. But Zaid barely heard them. His eyes were fixed on her hand. She had burned herself. For him. She had done it without even thinking. Without knowing him.

Without having any reason to care that much. His own hand had caught a little of the hot tea too, but he didn't even notice the sting.

Because how could he?

She had just saved him. A stranger had actually put herself in the way before thinking about herself.

Something inside Zaid's chest felt strangely full. He had spent his entire life being the one who looked after people. The one who protected. The one who made sure everyone else was okay.

And now, for the first time, someone had done it for him.

Ava looked up at him. Her eyes immediately searched his face.

"Aap theek hain?"

(''Are you okay?'')

Her voice was soft. Zaid just stared at her. She blinked. Then, when he still didn't answer, she waved her uninjured hand in front of his face.

"Ji? Aap theek hain?"

(''Are you okay?'')

Her bangles softly clinked against each other.

Zaid blinked. He nodded quickly. "Ji." His voice sounded strange even to him. His face had gone warm.

Actually—

Very warm.

A little too warm.

His parents and Ava's parents were already fussing over her hand, asking whether she was hurt and telling someone to bring the first-aid box.

But Zaid barely heard them. He was still looking at her. At the woman in the red sharara who had burned her own hand without thinking twice just to keep him from getting hurt. He didn't know her. Not really. He had met her only moments ago.

And yet somehow...

For the first time in his life, Zaid Zoravar felt something he couldn't explain.

Something warm. Something frighteningly unfamiliar. Something that made his heart beat faster than it ever had before. He looked at Ava again.

And somewhere deep inside him, a thought quietly settled.

*She made me feel safe. A stranger. In a room full of people. She had somehow made him feel safe.

And Zaid had never felt that way before.

Not once.

The moment Zaid reached home, he went straight upstairs. He entered his study, closed the door behind him and locked it.

Then he immediately picked up his tablet. There was only one thing he wanted to do. He opened the group chat.

BerojgaronKiBaithak.

Some weird name Samar had given their group. Samar had laughed for almost five minutes before telling him, "Bhai bas naam hai, enjoy karo."

Shahmir had given Samar a look.

 He pressed the video call button. The call connected almost immediately. Shahmir appeared first, sitting in his office.

He had literally left a billion-dollar deal that was seconds away from being signed because his two best friends were calling. Nothing mattered more than them.

A second later, Samar joined. He was coming back from university in London after a long day, yet the moment he saw Zaid's face, a grin spread across his lips.

Even time and distance had never managed to separate the three of them.

"Aur meri jaan..." Samar leaned closer to the screen, his grin widening. "Mrs. Zoravar mili ya nahi?"

Zaid immediately blushed. He rubbed the back of his neck before slowly nodding. Both men froze.

Shahmir blinked. Samar's grin disappeared for a second.

"Wait."

He looked at Shahmir through the screen.

"Did he just nod?"

Shahmir looked back at Zaid.

"Bhai... seriously?"

Zaid nodded again.

And suddenly both of them smiled. Because they knew how many times Zaid had been rejected. They knew what people said about him.

Too boring. Too serious. Too traditional. Too focused on work.

But they also knew the man behind all of that.

Zaid was kind. He was sincere. He cared about people in a way most people didn't.

And hearing that someone had finally looked at him and stayed...

It made both of them genuinely happy for him.

"Wait, who is she?" Shahmir asked, a smile already appearing on his face.

Zaid leaned back against his chair. And then he started talking. Really talking. He told them about Ava. About her parents. About the meeting. About the way she had listened when he spoke about politics. About how she hadn't looked at him like he was someone she was simply waiting to escape from. And then he told them about the chai.

He told them how the cup had slipped. How Ava had immediately grabbed it. How she had burned her own hand. Just to stop him from getting burned.

By the time he finished, Samar and Shahmir were staring at him. Neither of them had seen Zaid like this before. Not since he had been a little boy. There was something different in his voice.

Something softer. Something almost vulnerable.

"She actually saved you, bhai?" Shahmir asked.

Zaid nodded, rubbing the back of his neck again. Samar's grin returned.

"Arre chalo yaar, ab toh shaadi ki tyaari karo aur nahi toh kya."

(''Now don't be late and do the wedding fast.'')

Shahmir laughed.

Zaid turned completely red.

"Shut up, Samar."

"Why? Sach hi toh bol raha hoon."

(''What? I am saying the truth.'')

Shahmir shook his head, still laughing. "Oh pagal, bhai ko bolne ka mauka toh de." He looked at Zaid. "Bata. Kya soch rahe ho?"

Zaid went quiet. He looked down for a moment before looking back at them.

"Pata nahi yaar..."

(''I don't know bro..'')

He sighed.

"She just..."

He stopped. He didn't know how to explain it. "I don't know. She didn't seem like she wanted to run away."

Samar's teasing expression softened.

"She didn't look at me like I was someone boring or someone she was just dealing with."

He paused.

"When her parents asked about politics, she actually listened to me. She asked questions. She was interested in what I was saying."

Zaid smiled without realizing it. Then he looked down again. "Bhai... no one has ever looked at me like that." He swallowed. "And when she did... I liked it."

Shahmir and Samar exchanged a look. Zaid continued before either of them could say anything.

"And Ya Allah... kya bataun."

(''And oh god how should I even tell you.'')

He rubbed his face, frustrated.

"She was so... beautiful."

Samar's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh ho."

"Shut up."

"She was wearing a red sharara," Zaid continued, completely ignoring him now.

He paused.

"Ya Allah, I don't even know how to explain what I felt."

For once, neither Samar nor Shahmir teased him. They simply watched him struggle to put something into words that perhaps couldn't be explained.

The Man who commanded a entire room through his words was now unable to describe the woman he had fallen for at first sight.

Some things were only meant to be felt.

Samar finally smiled.

"Bhai... we get it."

Shahmir nodded.

"Tujhe pyaar ho gaya."

(''You have fallen in love.'')

Zaid immediately looked at them.

"What?"

"Pehli nazar ka pyaar," Samar added dramatically.

(''Love at first sight.'')

"Pagal ho kya?" Zaid whispered feeling his heart beating little too faster

(''Have you gone mad?"')

"Uncle-Aunty ko haan bol de," Samar continued. "Aur le aa apni iss stranger ko ghar. Bana le Mrs. Zoravar."

(''Say yes to Uncle-Aunty and make that stranger Mrs Zoravar and bring her home.'')

The words stirred something inside him.

Mrs. Zoravar.

Zaid's face turned red again. He hadn't even said yes yet. He hadn't even spoken to his parents .

But the thought of her becoming his wife—

His heart started beating faster.

Love?

That was what Shahmir and Samar were calling it.

Zaid wasn't sure. He really wasn't. But he didn't deny it either.

He looked at his two best friends through the screen.

And then, quietly, he spoke.

"Bhai... I don't know about love." He paused. "But if she agrees to marry me..."

His expression softened. "I'll give her everything."

Another pause.

"I'll take care of her."

He  smiled.

"I'll protect her. I'll keep her happy. No matter what happens."

"I'll protect her with everything I have."

Samar's smile slowly faded into something softer. Shahmir just looked at him.

Because Zaid didn't say those words like a man trying to impress anyone. There was no drama in his voice. No grand declaration. Just sincerity. A promise from a man who had met a stranger that day...

And had somehow already started falling for her without even realizing it.

He didn't know it yet. But the woman in the red sharara had already found a place in his heart.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Back at the hospital, the waiting felt endless. Finally, the doctor stepped out of the operating room.

Everyone immediately stood up. "Mr. Zoravar," the doctor began, his expression serious. "We have treated your wife's wounds. But there is something you need to know."

Zaid stared at him. The doctor took a breath. "She has a third-degree burn on her waist. It appears she was burnt with an iron rod. The injury was hidden beneath her clothes, which is why it wasn't noticed earlier."

Zaid froze. He stared at the doctor, but it was almost as if he wasn't seeing him anymore.

Iron rod.

Burn.

Waist.

The words settled inside his mind like a cold brick being thrown against his chest. Hard. Heavy. Crushing.

He couldn't breathe. His mind replayed those words again and again.

Iron rod.

Burn.

Ava.

His knees suddenly buckled.

"Zaid Bhai!"

Chandani and Inaya screamed.

Before he could hit the floor, Shahmir and Samar caught him. "Zaid!" Samar shouted, holding him against himself. Mahira gasped from behind them. Her son had collapsed right in front of her.

"Zaid!" Shahveer's composure finally cracked. "Someone call the doctor! Now!"

Shahmir carefully held Zaid against him while Samar ran toward the nurses' station. "Stretcher! Please, we need a stretcher!"

Yuvaan immediately went to get the painkillers the doctor had asked for Ava knowing it was the time to act but not be emotional.

Shahveer turned toward Mahira and helped her sit down. He pressed a kiss against her trembling knuckles.

"Jaan... don't worry. Nothing will happen to our son."

Aarohi quickly sat beside Mahira, holding her hand. But Shahveer couldn't stay away. He walked back toward Zaid and pulled his son closer, touching his forehead.

No fever.

Then he caught Zaid's wrist. His heart sank. The pulse was weak.

Far too weak.

"Zaid..." he whispered.

Within moments, the nurses arrived with a stretcher, followed by a few hospital staff. Shahmir, Samar and Shahveer carefully lifted Zaid onto it.

"Easy," Shahmir whispered. "Easy, bhai."

They rushed him into a hospital room. The doctors immediately began running tests.

Everyone waited outside, terrified. After what felt like forever, the doctor finally stepped out. His expression was filled with concern. "His blood pressure is extremely low," he explained. "When I told him about Mrs. Zoravar's injury, his body couldn't handle the shock. He lost consciousness."

Mahira's hand flew to her mouth.

"We need to keep him under observation for now," the doctor continued. "He needs rest, and we need to monitor his blood pressure closely."

The doctor walked away.

And suddenly, the truth settled over everyone.

Zaid had collapsed. Ava was still fighting for her life.

Mahira covered her face with her dupatta as sobs escaped her.

Inaya and Chandani immediately wrapped their arms around her. "Maa..." Inaya whispered, her voice trembling. "Hamein dar lag raha hai. Bhai aur Bhabhi dono—"

''Mom... we are scared. Brother and sister in law both—"

She couldn't finish. Mahira immediately pulled both girls into her arms. "Shh... meri bachiyo."

(''Shhhh my baby.'')

Her own body was trembling. Her eyes were filled with tears. But she held them tighter.

"Sab theek ho jayega."

(''Everything will be fine.'')

She kissed Inaya's forehead, then Chandani's.

"Allah mein yakeen rakho."

(''Believe in our god.'')

For a moment, Mahira closed her eyes. She was terrified. She was a mother. Of course she was terrified. But somewhere deep inside, she knew she couldn't break. Not now.

Allah was testing her. Testing her family. And if she had to stand strong for her children, then she would. Even if her own heart was breaking.

"Allah sab theek karenge," she whispered again.

(''Allah will fix everything.'')

And this time, she wasn't only saying it for the girls. She was saying it for herself too.

About two hours later, it was almost 9 PM. Ava's eyes slowly opened.

For a few seconds, she didn't move. She didn't need to. Spy training had taught her to sense her surroundings before she even looked at them. The smell hit her first. That unmistakable hospital smell. Then the rough linen bedsheets beneath her. The hospital gown against her skin.

The faint beeping of the machines beside her. Her eyes finally opened fully. She was alone. Nobody was in the room.

And then came the pain.

It spread through her body slowly at first, before settling heavily around her waist. Ava's fingers immediately tightened around the bedsheet. Her knuckles turned white. The pain was scorching. Burning.

For a moment, she almost screamed. Almost. But she didn't. She had been trained better than that. She simply clenched her jaw and breathed through it.

And then—

Her handler's voice came rushing back.

"You wouldn't want anything happening to him, would you?"

The words. That mocking tone. That threat. It hadn't been because she had made a mistake. It was worse. It was because her handler knew exactly where to hurt her.

Her brother.

Ava closed her eyes. When her parents died, she had one thing left in this world. Her brother. She had made a promise to herself that no matter what happened, she would never let anyone hurt him.

Her parents had left behind debts. Enemies. A life Ava didn't understand. So she had stepped into that world. She had trained. She had learned how to lie, fight, disappear, manipulate and survive.

She became Agent NYX.

All of it for him. Every mission. Every sacrifice. Every line she crossed. Everything had been for her brother.

And now...

She had failed. Ava's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't let them fall. She had one fucking job.

One.

Protect her brother.

And she had failed at it.

Worse—

She had made him a target. Her handler now knew about him.

And Ava knew them well enough to understand what that meant. They didn't make empty threats. If they wanted to hurt her brother just to punish her, they would.

No hesitation. No mercy.

Her breathing grew heavier. Her entire body hurt. But somehow, the pain in her chest was worse.

She felt like a failure. Like everything she had fought so hard to protect had slipped through her fingers.

But then Ava opened her eyes again.

The tears disappeared. Something colder took their place.

Focus. She couldn't fall apart. Not now. She still had a role to play. She was still Ava Hart. The innocent wife. The soft-hearted woman. The woman who was a good wife.

And if she made even one more mistake...

She was done. Ava slowly pushed herself deeper into the pillow, ignoring the pain.

No.

She wouldn't make another mistake. Not again. If she had to ruin Zaid, she would.

Slowly. Patiently. Carefully.

She would make him trust her more. Make him love her more. Make him believe that she was completely his. Until the day he stopped expecting betrayal from her. Until the day he loved her enough to never imagine she could hurt him.

And then—

She would destroy everything. The thought sent a dangerous determination through her. There was pain in her eyes. There was guilt. There was fear.

But underneath all of it was something far more dangerous. Determination. The determination of an elder sister who had already lost too much.

A sister who would cross every line necessary to protect the only family she had left. Ava closed her eyes. For her brother. She would become the monster they wanted her to be.

And this time...

She wouldn't fail.

Mahira had been sitting outside Ava's room for hours. She hadn't heard a single sound from inside. Chandani and Inaya had already been sent home. Along with Shahveer, Aarohi and Yuvaan. Both girls had been terrified after everything that had happened, and Raghav had driven them home himself.

Anika was still sitting beside Mahira, worry written all over her face. Further down the corridor, outside the room where Zaid was being kept under observation, Aryaveer, Shahmir and Samar stood together, quietly waiting.

The hospital had gone strangely quiet.

Until suddenly—

A scream echoed through the corridor.

Mahira froze. Anika's eyes widened. They looked at each other for barely a second before both of them rushed inside.

"Ava!"

The hospital bed was empty. Mahira's heart stopped. Then she noticed the bathroom door. It was open. They rushed inside. Ava was standing in front of the mirror.

Crying. Screaming.

Her hands were trembling as she stared at her reflection. The bruises across her face seemed to haunt her. For a moment, Mahira simply stared at her daughter-in-law. Then she ran to her.

"Ava!"

She wrapped her arms around her tightly, pulling her against her chest and immediately covering her eyes.

"Shhh... meri bachi."

(''Shhh... my baby.'')

Ava's body trembled against her.

"Sab theek hai."

(''Everything is fine.'')

Mahira held her even tighter.

"Mat dekho, meri jaan. Please... mat dekho."

(''Don't look, my child. Please Don't look.''0

Anika understood immediately. She knew this was an act. But that didn't mean she couldn't feel the tears gathering in her own eyes. She stepped forward and helped Mahira hold Ava.

Her voice broke as she whispered,

"Ava..."

Ava let herself collapse against Mahira. Her entire body trembled as she whispered brokenly, "Ammi..." She swallowed. "It hurts."

Mahira's eyes filled with tears. "I know, meri jaan." She gently stroked Ava's hair.

"I know it does."

Anika wiped her own tears before reaching for Ava's hand. "I'm here too."

Mahira looked at her. "See? Tumhari best friend bhi yahin hai."

Together, they carefully helped Ava back toward the bed. Ava whimpered with every movement, letting her body fall weakly against Mahira as though she had nothing left in her.

Mahira slowly settled her onto the bed.

"Bas... bas meri bachi."

She pulled the blanket over her and began gently caressing her hair. Ava's eyes slowly closed. Her breathing became steadier.

Within minutes, she appeared to fall asleep. Mahira continued stroking her hair long after Ava's eyes had closed.

She couldn't stop looking at her. At the bruises. At the bandages. At the woman who had entered their family only months ago and somehow become her daughter.

Eventually, Mahira looked toward Anika. Anika was barely holding herself together. The moment their eyes met, Mahira opened her arms.

"Idhar aao, bachi."

(''Come here, my child.'')

Anika immediately stepped into her arms. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled. She buried her face against Mahira's shoulder. "Why would someone want to hurt someone so pure and kind?" Her voice broke. "Ava never did anything wrong."

Mahira closed her eyes. She had no answer. What could she possibly say? How could she explain why someone had chosen to hurt a girl who had never knowingly harmed anyone? So she didn't try. She simply held Anika tighter. Her eyes moved back toward Ava. Her daughter-in-law lay quietly on the hospital bed, unaware of the tears being shed for her.

Mahira's heart broke all over again. Because the girl who had never done anyone wrong...

Was the one suffering the most.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Shahmir had just left the hospital. He knew they were going to be there late into the night, so he decided to get some food for Samar, Aryaveer, Anika and Mahira aunty.

He checked the map. The nearest restaurant wasn't too far. He could walk. It was a small restaurant, the kind of place someone like Shahmir Ansari probably wouldn't usually step into. Not because he looked down on it.

He simply never ate out. His diet was painfully simple. Salad. Protein shakes. That was pretty much it. But tonight, he didn't care.

Everyone at the hospital needed food. And he needed to get back to Zaid.

Soon, he reached the restaurant. It was small and simple, with only a few tables inside. Shahmir walked in and approached the counter.

The man sitting there looked up. His eyes widened. He glanced at Shahmir's expensive suit. Then his Italian shoes. Then the watch on his wrist that probably cost more than the entire restaurant.

Shahmir was used to that look. He hated it, but he was used to it. The man quickly took his order and disappeared toward the kitchen.

Shahmir sighed and leaned against the wall while waiting. He didn't want special treatment. He never had. Being one of the richest men in the country simply meant people treated him differently whether he wanted them to or not.

He checked his phone. Nothing from the hospital. Good. That meant Zaid and Ava were still stable. He slipped his phone back into his pocket.

And then he heard a voice. A woman's voice. Soft. Warm. Almost like a melody. Shahmir turned. And for a moment, he forgot what he was doing. There was a woman sitting at one of the tables with a few little girls. He couldn't see her face. She had her back toward him. But she was wearing a flashy gold silk saree, her long wavy hair falling all the way down her waist.

Jhumkas moved gently against her ears. Glass bangles chimed softly against her wrists. A tiny payal rested around her ankle above her simple sandals.

Shahmir tilted his head slightly. There was something about her. He couldn't explain it. He simply found himself listening.

"Bachcho, hamesha dhyaan rakhna," the woman told the girls. "Agar tum padhoge, tabhi aage badhoge."

(''Girls, always remember...if you study, then only you can grow.'')

She paused and gently caressed the hair of one of the girls who was happily munching on a samosa.

The little girl looked up at her. "Sree... agar hum padhein toh sab humein ganda nahi dekhenge?"

(''Sree....if we study then no one will look at us badly?'')

Shahmir's expression changed. The woman leaned closer and kissed the girl's forehead.

"Agar aap padhengi aur badi insaan banengi, toh koi aapko ganda nahi dekhega, meri jaan."

(''If you study then you become a good person, then no one will look at you badly, my child.'')

Sree smiled softly. The little girl nodded before taking another bite of her samosa.

Another girl suddenly spoke. "Sree... tum humaare saath nahi aaogi?" Her lower lip trembled. She was already scared of the answer.

(''Sree you will not stay with us?'')

Sree immediately pulled her into her arms. "Kabhi kabhi humein zindagi mein aage badhne ke liye bohot cheezein peeche chhodni padti hain."

(''Sometimes in life we have to leave a lot of things behind to move forward.'')

She reached for the other girl too, pulling her closer.

"Jaise Mr Snuggles."

(''Just like Mr Snuggles.'')

She pointed toward the stuffed toy lying beside them. "You had to leave Mr. Snuggles behind because she got so old, remember?"

The girls looked at the stuffed toy. Then at Sree. Their eyes widened with understanding. They slowly nodded.

"Sree..." the first girl whispered again. "So you won't be with us?"

Sree smiled. It was a beautiful smile. The kind that tried to hide a thousand painful things behind it.

But Shahmir couldn't see it.

He could only hear the warmth in her voice. And somehow...

Those words hit too close to home. Because he knew what it meant to leave things behind. He had lost his parents when he was young.

His grandparents had always told him that he had to move forward. And he did. At least physically. He studied. He worked. He expanded the Ansari Empire. He created a life for himself. He followed a strict routine. He never let people get too close.

Except Samar and Zaid. His two best friends had tried countless times to convince him that having a woman in his life wouldn't be such a terrible thing.

So once, he had tried.

Back in high school. And she had cheated on him.

Then walked away as if he meant nothing. Telling him she deserved someone better. Someone who wasn't just some insecure prick. It had broken something inside him.

After that, Shahmir stopped trying. Stopped trusting. Stopped believing that anyone would actually stay.

Maybe the girl was right.

And now this woman's words...

Sometimes we have to leave things behind to move forward.

They shouldn't have affected him. But they did.

"Sahab, aapka khaana."

(''Sir, your food.'')

The restaurant owner's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Shahmir blinked and looked toward him. The man handed him the plastic bag.

"Thank you."

Shahmir took it.

Then he looked back toward the table. Empty. The woman was gone. So were the girls.

He frowned slightly. He hadn't even seen her face. Hadn't spoken to her. Yet for some strange reason, he felt disappointed.

But that was weird Shahmir Ansari never felt dissapointed a woman had never affected him like this. He never looked at them. 

He was a man who commanded board room not someone who got affected by some woman's words.

"Kitna hua, bhai sahab?" he asked.

(''How much is it?'')

The man told him the amount. Shahmir paid him and gave one last glance around the restaurant. 

Nothing. She was gone.

He stepped outside. The cool night air hit his face. He started walking back toward the hospital, the food hanging from his hand.

But her voice stayed with him. That warmth. Those words. That strange feeling he couldn't explain. He had no idea who she was. He hadn't even properly seen her.

Yet somehow... The woman in the gold saree had left something behind.

And Shahmir carried it with him all the way back to the hospital.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Back at the hospital, Samar had been sitting outside the room where Zaid was being kept under observation, his hands resting against his cargo pants. All he wanted was for Zaid to get better.

And for the police to find whoever had attacked and kidnapped Ava.

She didn't deserve any of this.

Samar sighed heavily, rubbing his face. He just wished everything would go back to normal. His phone buzzed. He pulled it out and saw a message from his mother, Aarohi.

"Samar bache, sab kaisa hai?"

(''Samar, how is everything.")

Samar stared at the message for a moment. There was nothing good he could tell her.

So, after another sigh, he typed back.

"Momsi, don't worry, okay? Boy is just resting. He's gonna be just fine. And Ava did wake up a few hours ago, so don't worry."

He didn't mention the attack. Didn't mention how Ava had woken up crying. There was no point worrying his mother when there was nothing she could do from home. He tucked his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket.

Just then, he heard footsteps. Thinking it was Shahmir returning with the food, Samar looked up. Only to freeze.

There was a figure standing at the end of the hallway.

A figure he didn't know. Or at least... Didn't expect.

He blinked a few times. A woman, barely around five-foot-four, came rushing into the hallway, clearly in a hurry.

She wore a deep crimson saree that draped around her like a flame, the rich red fabric covered in delicate silver and gold embroidery. Intricate paisleys and flowers bloomed across the pallu, while the embellished border caught the light with every movement.

Her matching blouse hugged her frame, its sleeves finished with a soft shimmer of embroidery.

She suddenly looked up. Her eyes widened. "Aap?"

(''You?'')

Samar blinked. She had said it like she knew him. He pointed at himself. "Okay, first of all, senorita, do I know what that 'aap' was?"

Ira froze. Realising what she had just said, she quickly looked away. "Hum... I mean... aap. Humein pata nahi tha ki aap wapas aa gaye hain."

(''I.....uh.....I didn't know that you would be back.'')

Samar's eyebrows lifted. "Wapas aa gaye?"

(''Came back?'')

He leaned casually against the wall, studying her. "Pehle toh yeh bataaiye, aap jaisi itni sundar apsara mujhe jaanti kaise hain?"

(''First of all tell me, how does a beautiful women like you know me?'')

Ira froze again. Her cheeks immediately turned red. She pointed a finger at him, clearly struggling to keep her composure. She hadn't expected to see him here.

Had he just looked her beautiful?

After so many years...

And now that she had?

Why, God?

Why now?

"Hum aapko koi jaante-waante nahi hain," she quickly said. "Voh toh bas... aap Zaid bhaiya ke dost hain, toh humein pata hai."

(''I don't know you from anywhere....I just I know you are Zaid's friend.'')

She looked away again, suddenly very interested in fixing the edge of her saree. 

Samar raised both hands in surrender. "Whoa, whoa. I'm a little confused here, lady." Then he looked down at her again. Something about the way she avoided his gaze felt...

Familiar.

"Okay, so you know Zaid?"

Ira finally looked back at him. And for a second, she forgot what she was supposed to say. Those eyes. They still did something to her. She quickly looked away again.

"Hum Zaid bhaiya ke liye kaam karte hain," she whispered.

(''I work for Zaid.'')

Samar's expression changed slightly. "Oh." Then he remembered something. "Wait. Do you work at the orphanage? Zaid has mentioned it a few times."

Ira nodded. "Ji. Hum wahaan kaam karte hain."

(''Yes I work there.'')

She was almost relieved that she didn't have to explain anything else.

Before Samar could say anything more, another voice came from behind him.

"Arre, Ira? Tum aa gayi?"

(''Ira you are back?'')

Samar turned. Shahmir stood there, food in his hands. Ira's face immediately softened.

"Ji, Shah bhai."

(''Yes, Shah brother.'')

She looked toward the room where Zaid was. "Voh bachche aur Nishchit late soye, isliye hum pehle nahi aa paayi."

(''Kids and Nishchit slept late, so I couldn't come early.'')

Her voice grew worried. "Zaid bhai theek toh ho jaayenge na?"

(''Zaid brother will be fine right?'')

Shahmir nodded immediately. "Haan, haan. Chinta mat karo, Ira. Tumhaare bhaiya ko kuch nahi hoga. I promise."

(''Don't worry nothing will happen to your brother, Ira. I promise.'')

He smiled reassuringly. "Bas thodi tiredness hai."

(''Its just tiredness.'')

Ira nodded.

"Ji."

(''Okay'')

Shahmir glanced down the corridor. "Mahira aunty aur Anika upar waale floor pe hain."

(''Mahira aunt and Anika are on the upper floor.'')

Ira nodded again.

"Ji, hum unke paas jaate hain."

(''I will go to them.'')

And perhaps a little too quickly, she turned around and walked away.

Samar watched her leave. His eyes narrowed slightly.

Ira.

Why did that name sound so familiar? Like he had heard it before. Like he knew it. But couldn't quite remember from where.

He turned toward Shahmir.

"Yaar..."

Shahmir looked at him. "Hmm?"

Samar rubbed the back of his neck. "Why does she seem so familiar?"

Shahmir stared at him for a second. Then snorted. "Tujhe toh har sundar ladki familiar lagti hai."

(''You find every beautiful girl familliar.'')

Samar gasped.

"Bhai!"

Shahmir continued, completely ignoring him.

"Aur is planet ki almost har ladki tujhe familiar lagti hai."

(''And on this planet every girl is familliar to you.'')

Samar placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "Okay, first of all, that is not true." He paused. "Maybe some of it is true."

Shahmir rolled his eyes. "And secondly, it's not my fault girls get attracted to me."

"Right."

"Exactly."

Samar nodded seriously.

Shahmir stared at him.

Samar stared back.

"Bhai, besides, you don't know that."

Shahmir sighed.

"Know what?"

"That I was trying to make her fall for me."

Shahmir's eyebrow rose.

Samar immediately defended himself.

"I wasn't! I just..."

He frowned.

"It felt similar."

Shahmir shook his head, already used to his antics.

"Zyaada natak mat kar. Chal, baith ja."

(''Don't joke too much. Come on lets sit.'')

He handed him one of the food packets. "Khaana khaate hain."

(''We will eat.'')

Then he looked around. "Aryaveer ko call kar. Zara. Woh coffee lene gaya tha."

(''Call Aryaveer now. He went to get coffee.'')

Samar nodded. He was about to walk away when Shahmir added casually,

"And Ira is Aryaveer's sister."

Samar stopped.

He turned back.

"Wait... what?"

Shahmir simply shrugged.

"Aryaveer ki sister hai."

(''She is Aryaveer's sister.'')

Samar blinked. He looked in the direction Ira had disappeared. "Accha..." he nodded taking in the information

He nodded slowly.

"Okay."

Then he pulled out his phone and went to call Aryaveer.

Shahmir watched him go. For the first time that night, there had been something almost normal about the moment. A little teasing. A little laughter.

Something that made the heaviness of the hospital corridor feel slightly lighter.

But as Shahmir looked down at the food in his hands, his thoughts drifted somewhere else.

Back to the little restaurant. Back to the woman in the gold saree. He still didn't know her name. He hadn't even seen her face.

Yet somehow...

He couldn't stop thinking about her.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was around midnight. The hospital had gone almost completely silent. Most of the lights in the corridor were dimmed, and the only sounds were the occasional footsteps of a nurse and the faint beeping of machines.

Inside the room, Zaid shifted slightly in his sleep.

His brows furrowed. His breathing grew uneven.

And before his eyes even opened, a broken whisper escaped his lips.

"Ava..."

It was almost haunting. The whisper of a man who couldn't forget her. Not even in his sleep. Not even for a moment.

Suddenly, Zaid's eyes snapped open. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, confused. Then reality came rushing back. The hospital. The IV in his arm.

Ava.

The warehouse. Her bruised face. Her trembling body. The burn on her waist.

Zaid's jaw clenched. He slowly pushed himself upright. His eyes moved toward the door. He couldn't stay here. Not anymore.

He couldn't lie in a hospital bed while the people who had done this to his wife were still somewhere out there.

His hand immediately reached for the IV. He tore it from his arm. A sharp sting shot through him, but he barely reacted. A small drop of blood appeared where the needle had been.

He didn't care. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His body still felt weak. His head spun for a moment. But he steadied himself against the bed.

No. He wasn't going to sit here and wait. Not while Ava was lying in another room because of someone else's cruelty.

Whoever had done this...

They had made one mistake. They had touched his wife. And now Zaid Zoravar was coming for them. He would find them. Every single one of them. And he would make them understand exactly what it felt like to see someone they loved suffer.

The thought of Ava crying flashed through his mind again.

Something inside him snapped. His eyes darkened. His breathing became slower. Calmer. Almost frighteningly calm.

Then, slowly...

A smile appeared on his lips. Not the warm smile Ava knew. Not the gentle smile Mahira had seen countless times. Not the smile world saw.

Something darker. Something dangerous.

A smile that Zaid Zoravar had never worn before. They had forced him into becoming this man. They had taken the most peaceful man in Lucknow and pushed him until there was nothing left to hold him back.

He looked toward the door. His voice came out low. Cold.

Almost a whisper. "Ab dekhega poora Lucknow..." He paused. That faint, terrifying smile returned.

(''Now the entire lucknow will see.'')

"Sirf Zaid Zoravar ka kehar nahi..." His eyes hardened. "Balki ek shohar ka."

(''Not only the wrath of Zaid Zoravar but of a husband too.'')

And with that, Zaid walked out of the room.

Tonight, he wasn't leaving as a politician. He wasn't leaving as the man everyone respected. He was leaving as a husband whose wife had been hurt.

And whoever had done it...

Was about to learn exactly what that meant.

⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓙𝓔𝓒𝓣 𝓩𝓞𝓡𝓐𝓥𝓐𝓡

𝓢𝓘𝓣𝓐𝓡𝓐 𝓘𝓝𝓚𝓛𝓘𝓝𝓖