Chapter 6
Author's POV
The sunlight filtered gently through the towering glass windows, casting a warm, honeyed glow across the marble floors.
Specks of dust danced like tiny fireflies in the quiet morning air.
The corridors of the palace stretched endlessly, adorned with intricate archways, tall carved pillars, and walls that whispered tales of old grandeur.
Outside the windows, the sprawling royal gardens sparkled with dew—rows of purple Petunia, snapdragon and nightshade flowers swaying in the soft breeze, rabbits strutting proudly across the emerald lawn while swans swim like pearls in the lake with lotus buds lay closed, asleep beneath the water’s surface, as if waiting for the sorrow to pass, waiting for the storm to end, waiting for peace.
Because until then, happiness had no place here.
The air was scented with the faint perfume of roses and sandalwood, and the distant sound of a water flowing like a soft melody.
Safiya walked gracefully beside Khwaish, dressed in a oversized blue shirt tucked in white pants—loose, effortless, and comfy.
Her sleeves were pushed up, revealing a thin silver bracelet on her wrist. No makeup, no fuss, her open hair flowing gently.
Her hair was tied in a loose bun, silver studs glinting in each ear—minimal, sharp, and intentional.
( Safiya because comfort matters )
( Khwaish - literally the hoor ki pari )
Khwaish, in contrast, walked with her hands clasped in front of her, her soft pink kurta brushing against her ankles.
A delicate chiffon dupatta rested lightly over her shoulder, fluttering with each step.
She looked more like poetry in motion—gentle, rooted, familiar.
trailing softly behind her, as the latter pointed towards ancestral portraits and hand-painted ceilings above.
Sunlight kissed their faces as they strolled, their laughter echoing faintly in the rather silent hallways.
Safiya, now well-versed with the layout of the haveli, deliberately avoided the west wing, steering clear of the part of the estate that brought her face-to-face with the one man who made her blood boil with every word he uttered.
Her blood pressure would shoot up every time she recalled his words or his repulsive stare.
She and Khwaish finally exited through the archway, descending the stone-carved stairs towards the sun-dappled garden — the one Safiya had admired longingly from her window.
“And this right here—this is the most beautiful part of our haveli.”, Khwaish said pulling Safiya along with her down the stairs towards the garden.
The garden was dreamy, the kind one would see in movies.
Yet even amidst the lush greenery, her gaze wandered to the other side — up a separate flight of stairs leading to imposing glass doors.
Five guards stood stationed there, unmoving.
That section of the garden was more vibrant, bursting with hyacinths and geraniums in full bloom, humming with secrets.
{ I literally have zero gardening knowledge ?? but every flower mentioned represents symbolism and foreshadowing. ?? }
That was when it clicked her mind. The garden belonged to none other than him, the arrogant self-proclaimed heir of the earth himself who walked as if everyone owed him rent.
“I don't get it,” Safiya said, stepping inside the gazebo built over the pond, her fingers scattering feed for the ducks as Khwaish followed, basking in the gentle breeze curling around them.
{ This is a gazebo in case y'all are wondering. }
“ We can enter this place directly through the west wing, but instead of using that shortcut, why do we walk an extra mile?” Safiya dusted her palms off, stepping out with a mild frown as Khwaish trailed behind her, her response noncommittal.
“We don't step into my Zaviyar bhai's wing,” Khwaish replied casually, twirling a brittle flower between her fingers before plucking it with care — likely destined to become yet another bookmark in her growing collection.
“Why? Is there some hidden treasure there?” Safiya teased, heading toward the garden’s guarded edge, curiosity glittering in her eyes.
“No.... but no one's allowed in that part of the haveli, except bhai,” Khwaish said as her tone softened with reverence.
“What’s with this Nawab bullshit, Khwaish? It shocks me how you all are blinded by these outdated traditions and myths created by narrow-minded old hags to create a patriarchal system that not only suppresses women but divides society into inferiors and superiors.”
Khwaish didn’t flinch. “The Nawab of the haveli must be given supreme authority over every member of the family,” she said, the words rolling of her tongue almost instantly like a formula that has been ingrained into her head.
“I don't understand...”, her voice trailed, “ Why is taya jaan not the nawab, instead of Zaviyar? I mean, it goes from the father to the son, right? Isn’t that how these hierarchical systems work?” Safiya tapped her chin, her curiousity growing.
“No, it is completely different. The title goes to the one who proves themself capable of being the next heir. Dada jaan never considered Baba or Chachu suitable enough,” Khwaish explained, straightening as she turned to Safiya.
“Zaviyar bhai spent most of his time with grandpa. The only person dada jaan ever opened up to was him. He’s basically a carbon copy of him.”
Safiya stared at her, stunned, mouth slightly ajar. A bubbling laugh escaped her, dry and disbelieving.
“Tum logon ne kya Ekta Kapoor ka serial laga ke rakha hai?”
(What is this? some Ekta Kapoor serial you've all set up?)
Khwaish shrugged. “We’re bound by rules. We don’t get to choose.”
Safiya’s lips curled into a cold smirk. Her voice dropped, anger quietly simmering beneath the sarcasm.
“All these family rules, status, and what not, it's all pretentious nonsense made just so a few egoistic men can satisfy their pride.”, Her next question hit like a slap.
“ If a girl had been born instead of Zaviyar, would she have been given the same rights that he’s claiming today?”, Khwaish stopped mid-step, clearly thinking. But Safiya wasn’t waiting, her gaze locked on the other side of the garden, and she moved instinctively, dragging Khwaish along.
“Safi aapi, where are you going?” Khwaish called out, bewildered by her sudden change of direction.
“Those flowers over there are so aesthetic. I want to click some pictures, come on.”
But Khwaish halted, tugging her hand back.
“No, we can’t go to that side...” she warned nervously, her eyes darting toward the guards like a guilty schoolgirl.
“Nothing will happen, come on Ishu…” Safiya insisted, tugging at her with a persuasive smile that made refusal impossible. And true to her nature, Khwaish gave in with a sigh, following her new friend which happened to be her step cousin sister towards the trouble.
As they neared the edge, one of the guards stiffened and stepped forward.
“Maaf kijiyega bibi - ji lekin iss taraf jaana mana hain.”
( Forgive me, ma’am, but going this way is not allowed. )
Safiya put on her sweetest voice, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “Security vaale bhaiyya, hum thori na waha nuclear bomb lagane jaa rahe hain.”
( Security bhaiyya, it’s not like we’re going there to plant a nuclear bomb. )
Khwaish stifled her laugh, biting her lip to hold back the giggle.
“Achcha dekhiye aap dono itne strong hain, aapke Hukum itne Muscular— I mean takatwar hain... humne kuch kiya touh yuh...” She snapped her fingers playfully, adding, “yuh pachar denge aap hume.”
( Look, you both are so strong, your Hukum is so muscular— I mean strong... if we did anything, you'd just... crush us with a snap of your fingers. )
But her smile faltered when the guards didn’t budge. With a dramatic huff, she turned to Khwaish.
“Security touh aisi kar rakhi hai jaise koi naagmani chhupa rakhi ho.”
(The security is so tight, it feels like there’s some diamond hidden inside.)
“Kahi tumhara bhai koi ichchadhari naag touh nahi, jisko kisi ne pichle janam mein dhoka de diya tha?”
(Is your brother some kind of shapeshifting serpent who was betrayed in his past life?)
They laughed, carefree and completely unaware of the looming presence just a few feet away.
Hidden behind a wall of vines, Zaviyar watched. Eyes dark, jaw clenched, every muscle coiled like a drawn bow. Their laughter reached him like a challenge, and he moved.
“Bhai naag kaise ho sakte hain aapi, uske liye toh unhe jinn hona padega.”
(How can he be a serpent, sis? For that, he'd have to be a jinn.)
( Jinn : a supernatural creature maybe good or bad. )
Adhira’s serial obsession had clearly infected Safiya’s brain, and being a voice actor only added fuel to her dramatic fire.
“Touh woh jinn se kam thori hain.”
(Well, he’s no less than a jinn.)
Khwaish, now a few steps ahead, twirled around mid-sentence, only to freeze, breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide in horror.
Her brother stood right behind them, his intense gaze burning into her like a spotlight. Safiya, blissfully unaware, kept talking.
“Aur zeher bhi koot koot ke bhara hai unme.”
(And he’s filled with venom, through and through.)
Khwaish watched Zaviyar dismiss the guards with a silent flick of his fingers. The tension thickened like smoke as he approached slowly, and his eyes, they burned with fury listening to her.
“Unke body se zeher nikalne gaye na, toh drum bhar bhar ke niklega.”
(If you tried extracting poison from his body, you'd probably fill up drums.)
Safiya finally looked at her, her brows furrowing when she caught the distress on Khwaish’s face.
“ What’s with that face? What happened to you? ”
She tilted her head, oblivious to the dark shadow looming just behind her.
“Anyways, what was I saying again? ”
Then came a voice deep and controlled, enough to make anyone shake to their roots.
“Hum jinn dikhte hain aapko?”
(I look like a jinn to you?)
“Jinn nahi, shaytan bolo, shaytan...”, She replied without hesitation and regret followed a second later.
( Not even a Jinn... More like the devil himself. )
“Ishu, teri awaaz kabse itni mardana ho gayi?”, Her voice trembled.
(Ishu... since when did your voice become so deep and manly?)
She glanced to her side, dread pooling in her stomach.
“Bata de piche kaun hai.”
(Just tell me... who’s standing behind me?)
“Zaviyar Bhai... ” , Khwaish didn’t wait. She mouthed a quick apology before sprinting away, abandoning Safiya to her fate.
Khwaish had barely turned when she collided with a solid wall of muscle — a broad chest wrapped in a crisp shirt.
Her breath caught in her throat. The man's hand reached out, wrapping around her arm to steady her.
The warm touch of his callous hands, burned her skin through the fabric of her kurta.
Her breath hitched when she recognised the familiar perfume and the voice that followed.
“Isha...”, The voice that followed was smooth but commanding. It was familiar but she didn’t dare look up, biting her lips in nervousness.
“Isha, look at me.”, The weight of that order made her lift her gaze slowly.
There he was — Agastya, Zaviyar’s best friend, their family ally.
The only man in her life more intimidating than her brother.
A politician, a powerful man, and right now, her worst nightmare.
Regret crashed down on her. She should never have left Safiya behind.
Her fingers clutched the end of her dupatta tightly, knuckles paling.
She didn’t want to look up again. She had already seen the storm in his eyes once. It was dark, intense, all-consuming. Yet something about that voice always compelled obedience.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. She could smell his cologne now — sharp, woodsy, and faintly smoky like expensive danger.
“I told you to look at me.”, This time, it wasn’t loud. The command curled around her spine like warm smoke, and without meaning to, her lashes fluttered open as she tilted her chin up.
Agastya was watching her like she was a puzzle only he was allowed to solve. He seemed calm on the surface, but beneath that gaze was something that made her skin tingle.
Something possessive. Something dark.
“ Ammi is calling me, I- I should go…” she stammered, pointing vaguely behind him, eyes darting anywhere but his. Her throat felt tight. Her pulse betrayed her, drumming wildly against her skin.
“Isha,” he interrupted, his voice smooth and low. “Why do you keep running from me?”
Her eyes snapped to his. He wasn’t smiling, his expression was cold, unreadable like always. But he didn't blink, not even once as if her presence demanded all his focus, but he refused to show it.
“I-I don’t…” she whispered, but even she didn’t believe her words.
“You always avoid me,” he said, his gaze trailing down to the pulse in her neck, lingering for a fraction too long before flicking back to her eyes. “You hide behind others. Behind your brother. Behind your books. Why?”
She took a step back instinctively, but he mirrored it by barely moving, yet still making her feel like she couldn’t escape.
Khwaish looked down again. The heat in his gaze made her skin prickle, like he could see straight through the fabric of her clothes, into the very nerves of her being.
“I don’t… I just– I wasn’t avoiding…” Her voice trailed off, incoherent and soft. Agastya’s head tilted, and for a moment, he seemed amused but not in a cruel way. More like he enjoyed how flustered she became around him.
“You’ve grown up,” he said softly, eyes scanning her face like he was etching every detail to memory. “And yet, you still act like the same little girl who used to run and hide whenever I visited.”
She looked up then, brows knitting. “That’s because you’ve always scared me.”
That made something flicker in his eyes. It was not pain, but something more feral. As if her fear thrilled him, not because he liked it, but because it meant she felt his presence deeply.
“I don't want you to be scared of me, Isha,” he said, stepping even closer. His voice gentler now. “But if fear is the only thing that keeps me in your mind… then I’ll take it.”
Khwaish gasped slightly at his words, unsure how to respond, unsure why her skin felt so flushed, her heart racing, her thoughts scattering like wind-blown petals.
His hand lifted slowly, deliberately as if offering her a chance to pull away. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His touch was barely there, but her breath caught all the same.
“ Go. ”, she looked at him confused. But he arched his brow when she remained planted there. She blinked, shaken by the certainty in his tone.
“W-what?”, she didn't wait for his response and quickly sprinted away when his words registered. Her heart was beating really fast against her chest.
He just watched her walk away, his jaw clenched, eyes burning into her back.
the way one watches a piece of art they’ve already claimed, even if the world didn’t know it yet.
His eyes fluttered shut, jaw tightening, as he inhaled deeply.
The faint trail of her scent lingered in the air, something sweet, like vanilla and roses.
His throat worked as he swallowed hard, the sound deafening in his ears. It wasn’t just that she smelled like flowers. She was a flower, blooming quietly in the middle of a storm he had no intention of surviving.
And he was the storm!
He turned his palm up, as though trying to catch the sensation that had already vanished, his skin still tingling where her dupatta had touched him. His breathing had grown shallow, chest rising and falling with unspoken need.
He smiled, thinking of the soft touch of her skin against the pulp of his fingers, even though for a mere second.
God, the way she moved. So unaware. So untouched.
Obsession curled inside him like a dark fire licking the edges of his restraint. He always watched her, quietly, from the shadows — and now she stood there, so close and so far, unaware that she’d been his from the moment she first spoke his name.
Every breath she took stole one from his lungs. She didn’t even know what she did to him.
But she would.
Soon!
“You’ve always belonged to me,” he said so quietly that it was almost a whisper that didn't only mean a promise but also a vow— a Vow of Obsession.
The darkness within him purred with quiet satisfaction as she glanced over her shoulder, hesitant, unsure and offered him a meek little wave before vanishing from sight.
“Even if you don’t know it yet.”
Meanwhile, Safiya offered Zaviyar a sheepish chuckle, pointing weakly in Khwaish’s direction, hoping to downplay the situation with her usual charm.
“I should go.”, but her attempt to escape shattered the moment his voice cut through the space between them. It was smooth, deep, and threaded with authority.
“Turn and face me.”
The words weren’t shouted, but they held the weight of a command carved in stone.
Her body reacted before her mind could protest. She stopped in her tracks, every muscle locking in place.
She could feel was the shift in the air.
Even the clouds had suddenly gathered over them, dark and gloomy as if a storm was approaching.
The warm breeze was replaced with wind much colder and harsh.
Her eyes fluttered shut for a second, as though she could bargain with fate, willing herself to vanish.
“Aaltu jalaal tu aayi bala ko taal tu.”, The childish mantra barely whispered from her lips, like a feeble protection spell.
( Abracadabra, let the bad go away. )
Then, slowly, hesitantly, she turned — her movements heavy with reluctant grace. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Her gaze rose to meet his, and her breath caught.
Zaviyar stood like he ruled the place which he actually did.
He stood tall, still, his arms resting behind his back, the slight tension in his jaw betraying how closely he was holding himself together.
His eyes were unreadable, but one could sense the anger, annoyance, and rage simmering just beneath the surface.
She didn’t know what unnerved her more, his silence or the way it made her feel like she’d stepped into his territory and couldn’t find her way out.
What if I jump into the lake?
The thought flashed through her mind in a desperate need for escape.
No, I’ll drown. And this man is not worth dying for.
“Hum aapko shaytan jaise dikhte hain?”
( I look like the devil to you? )
His voice was laced with sarcasm, yet it held a sharp edge like he genuinely wanted to know. She stared at him, blinking rapidly, trying not to flinch under the weight of his stare. He stepped closer making her eyes widen at his bold move. But her being her couldn't help from running her mouth.
“Hum? Yaha touh bas aap hain, aur koi touh nazar nhi aaraha.”
( We? There's no we here. All I see in front of me is you. )
She shot back lightly, but her voice wasn’t as steady as she’d hoped.
Zaviyar’s gaze flicked downward for the briefest moment, lingering on her lips for a moment before looking back up at her but enough to make her throat dry up.
His expression didn’t shift, but the air between them seemed to thicken.
The tension wrapped itself around her like a second skin.
Then he clicked his tongue, not loudly, but with a crisp finality – a sound that made her spine straighten. His displeasure was quiet, composed, but unmistakable.
“Aap mahol ka hosh kare, aur uske hisab se baatein kha karein.”
( Look at your surroundings first and then speak. )
The way he said it wasn’t just a warning. It was a line being drawn, a reminder that there were rules in his world. That his world demanded control. And right now, she was the disruption in it. The mosquito who was constantly buzzing in his ear, disrupting his peace.
Safiya nodded, a reflex more than agreement. Her throat tightened as the sharpness in his tone burrowed under her skin.
“Aapke liye achcha hoga.”
(That would be better for you. )
He turned away, his back straight, shoulders rigid, each step deliberate like walking away from her was a conscious effort.
But the moment didn’t end there.
“Aapke liye achcha hoga, bara aaya.”
She mumbled in a childish manner under her breath with a pout, rolling her eyes. The frustration and heat of the encounter bubbled over in a flash of mischief.
(That would be better for you — what a joke.)
On impulse, completely unplanned — she bent, plucked a flower from the bush beside her, and hurled it at his retreating form. The flower hit his shoulder with a soft thwack, absurd in its delicacy, but oddly satisfying.
He stopped. The silence that followed was deafening. Safiya froze, heart leaping into her throat.
He turned, slowly and looked over his shoulder. His expression– unreadable, his eyes darkening each passing second.
She instantly straightened, trying to play it off, her spine erect and her face morphing into an overly innocent grin. It was the kind of smile that said, ‘ oops, don’t kill me, but also, I regret nothing. ’
He didn’t say a word.
He just stared for a long moment, eyes flicking between her face and the flower now resting near his feet. Then he gave a small shake of his head, more in disbelief than anger. A man on the edge of patience, but not quite falling.
And then, he walked away.
Safiya watched until he disappeared, the silence of his absence somehow louder than when he stood before her. Her grin lingered – stubborn, amused, tinged with something dangerously close to interest.
There was something fun about annoying Zaviyar. Something wild and thrilling. And the way he looked at her even with disdain made it all the more worth it.
Safiya lounged on the plush couch, idly scrolling through her phone as the aroma of fresh-baked cake and cookies.
Her peace, however, was disrupted when she caught a sour whiff drifting from the kitchen.
Curiously, her eyes lifted just in time to spot one of the maids struggling to carry a large tub that seemed to be the source of the stench.
Before she could question it, Shabana passed by and explained,“ Bibi jaan told us to bring the kitchen waste to her for it to be made into compost. ”
Safiya gave a short nod, the explanation making sense but something still didn’t feel right.
She leaned forward, brows knitting in concern, as the maid staggered under the tub’s weight. Safiya jumped onto her feet as she saw the woman’s knees buckle. Shr darted across the room just in time to catch the tub before it tipped.
“ Oh my, what happened to you? Are you alright? ”, Safiya steadied the tub with one hand, the other resting gently on the maid’s trembling shoulder. The woman’s face was pale and drawn, sweat beading across her forehead.
“ Safiya bibi... my head is spinning.”, Safiya’s eyes softened. She took the tub fully into her arms, nodding to Shabana, who stepped forward to assist the maid.
Guiding the fainting woman to a nearby couch, Shabana propped her up carefully while Safiya hovered nearby as she gently set the tub down.
Shabana was going to walk over to take the waste, but Safiya stopped her when she saw how unsteady the other maid looked. Her decision was instant.
“ Shabana, leave this for the moment. Take care of her. Give her some ORS to drink.”
Shabana blinked, confused. “ What’s that, madam? ”
Safiya blinked at her, scratching her head before saying, “Choro, cheeni paani banake laao.”
(Forget it, just bring some sugar water.)
Shabana nodded quickly and rushed off to the kitchen. The maid on the couch stirred slightly, struggling to speak through her haze.
“ Riffat ma'am asked me to take this waste out to be made into compost before the gardener leaves. She must be waiting. ”
Safiya waited patiently until Shabana returned with a glass and helped the maid drink. Then, determined, Safiya stood and looked toward the garden. The tub was heavy and reeked, but someone had to get the job done.
“You look after her. I’ll go deliver this.”
The maid weakly protested, but Safiya silenced her with a playful glare and a wave of her hand.
“ Until she's fully recovered, she shouldn't be doing any work. Make sure she stays in bed. ”, Safiya bent down a little to lift up the tub from the ground.Grunting a little under the tub’s weight, she adjusted her grip and made her way out of the kitchen, steps slightly wobbly.
“ Ya allah, this is so heavy. ”
Just as she passed into the hallway, a faint tickle slithered over her wrist. She froze mid-step, her eyes darting downward — and there it was. A long, squirming centipede, its many legs crawling over her skin.
A scream tore from her throat... sharp, startled, and panicked. Instinctively, she flung the tub into the air with a violent jerk, sending the garbage flying as she stumbled backward, swatting at her arm.
“Eww... Eww... Eww...” she shrieked, hopping in place like the floor was on fire. Her disgust was visceral. Of all the things in the world, creepy crawlies were her worst nightmare. The sickening splat echoed through the palace hall, silencing everything.
Three gasps followed in chorus.
Riffat, who had just stepped into the corridor, watched in horror. Her lips parted to greet Safiya but froze mid-smile as she saw the tub soar and crash into someone standing right behind her.
Rabiya who followed behind Riffat almost fainted at the sight. She wondered if she should call her husband and ask him to prepare for their departure.
Kabir and Khwaish who were fighting over the remote on the first floor ran up to the railing at the noise.
The tub landed with a grotesque squelch on none other than Zaviyar, who had been making his way down the grand staircase.
The thick, black dirt splattered across his face, trailing down his chiseled jaw and soaking the front of his pristine white vest. For a moment, he stood still, eyes closed, hands balled into tight fists at his sides. His nostrils flared as he fought for composure.
And then as if fate wasn’t done humiliating her, the tub on its descent had smacked him square on the head with a dull yet dramatic thud. It was as though time had stopped like it did in those cartoons and soap opera, against the laws of science and logic.
A soft groan escaped Zaviyar’s lips, but he didn’t budge, his stillness more terrifying than rage.
Safiya turned, and her breath caught in her throat. She gasped loudly, her hands covering her mouth as she looked at the scene in front of her with her heart hammering in her chest.
The horror of what she had just done dawned on her all at once.
She took a step back, the urge to disappear into the ground stronger than ever.
Safiya moved forward slowly, barely breathing.
She stretched her hand and gently lifted the tub off his head.
Their eyes met and what she saw made her swallow hard.
His face was taut, jaw ticking, veins prominent across his forehead.
His wrath wasn’t loud, it was coiled, restrained, and venomous. The maids stood frozen, horrified.
Safiya passed Zaviyar a pained look before she reached up to remove a banana peel stuck in his hair. Zaviyar flinched slightly, his eyes narrowing as she dangled it awkwardly and dropped it back in the tub.
“I'm sorry, I didn't really mean to do this. It just happened.”
She pulled out her white handkerchief, holding it out in silent offering.
He didn’t move. His glare said everything. If his gaze could burn, both the handkerchief as well Safiya would be burnt down to ashes. She extended her hand further and placed the white cloth on his shoulder and quickly stepped back. All this while, his eyes were following her.
“Why are our guests working? Have all the servants in the haveli died or something?" Zaviyar barked, his voice thunderous and echoing through the high ceilings of the haveli. The sheer volume made Safiya flinch, momentarily frozen under the sharp weight of his glare.
“I was just trying to help.” Safiya’s voice rang out, firm enough to be heard, though the tremor in her tone betrayed her. Zaviyar snapped his gaze towards her, his expression hardening.
Before the tension could spike further, Shabana rushed toward her, quickly took the tub from Safiya’s hands with a slight bow, and vanished down the corridor, eager to escape the growing storm.
“Help means making things easier for others… not turning everything into a disaster.” Zaviyar snapped, his jaw tight, each word falling like a lash.
Behind him, a male servant stepped forward shivering in fright and respectfully removed the shawl draped over his shoulders, perhaps sensing the mess his master had been caught in.
“Ab meri kya galti hain agar kachra khud dustbin ke paas jana chahe.”, Safiya fired back, her irritation boiling over. She had already apologized, yet here she was being ridiculed.
(Now how is it my fault if the trash decides to walk up to the bin itself?)
His gaze locked on hers like ice striking glass. His voice dropped into something colder, more dangerous.
“Trash—are you referring to yourself?”
Kabir leaned over the railing of the first floor with his phone out, gleefully recording the scene.
He couldn't wait to forward it to Agastya, who would definitely appreciate the drama. Beside him, Khwaish watched the escalating fight, clearly amused. She knew well, had it been anyone else, Zaviyar wouldn’t have hesitated to put a bullet between their eyes.
“ At least I'm the kind that even after recycling can still be useful. Trash is what is of no use, it's useless... Just like you.”
Riffat signaled the other house staff, subtly dismissing them. She had seen enough to know this wasn’t ending anytime soon. Rabya fussed beside her, tense and ready to intervene as her daughter bickered with the person with whom even the eldest of the house hesitated to talk back to.
“Aapko baat karne ki zara si bhi tameez nhi hain.”
(You have absolutely no manners when you speak.)
Zaviyar spat through clenched teeth. The audacity of being spoken to like this, by a woman was unfathomable to him.
Everyone feared Zaviyar, just by the mention of his name.
His very presence silenced rooms. People hardly dared to breathe when he entered, let alone speak back.
And yet, here stood Safiya, daughter of a man who had once opposed his family, answering him without a shred of fear.
It was not unexpected, but it only provoked the rage inside him.
“Woh kuch dino ke liye vacations peh gayi hain.”, her reply came with a sarcastic smile that didn’t help her case.
(They went on vacation for a few days.)
“You should’ve gone too. Why did you even come here?” he asked with a sneer, towering over her, voice sharp as a blade.
“What did you just say?” she blinked, a frown etching into her brow, surprised by the venom in his tone.
“ That your presence is not welcomed here and I pray that you leave my sight at once before I order my men to persecute you.”,
Safiya stared at him for a second and then laughed at hai choice of words. Pretending to look for something.
“ I don't see any cameras. This isn’t the shoot of some dramatic movie, you know.”, She shook her head in disbelief. How could someone live so deeply in delusion?
“Hum jaante hain—”, he tried to speak again, but Safiya cut him off.
(I know that—)
“Hum? Hum koun? Aapne bachpan mein singular aur plural nouns nhi seekhi?”, She looked around the hall dramatically, eyebrows raised.
(Who is this ‘we’ you're talking about? Did you skip grammar lessons as a kid and never learn the difference between singular and plural nouns?)
“Iss hum ke baaki ke members kha gaye? Kya bas mujhe yaha ek khamba nazar aa raha hain.”,
(Where are the rest of this ‘we’ you speak of? Because all I see here is one tall lamp post.)
Kabir clutched his stomach, laughing uncontrollably. He genuinely regretted not having popcorn for this drama.
Zaviyar stepped closer, the heat of his rage radiating with every move. His broad shoulders cast a shadow over her smaller frame as he leaned in, voice icy and dangerous.
“Enough of this ridiculous humor. I'm seriously trying not to throw you out of here right now.”, his tone made a chill crawl down her spine. Still, she didn’t back down.
“You think you can keep testing me… and I’ll just turn a blind eye to your crappy behaviour and habit to rebel everywhere? Do I look like a fool to you?”, Safiya squared her shoulders, eyes blazing with the same fury and venom.
“Fool nhi... aap duniya banane vale ki sabse bari bhool hain.”
(Not a fool... more like god's biggest mistake.)
Khwaish and Kabir gasped in perfect sync before bursting into laughter again. Zaviyar turned sharply toward them, eyes narrowing in warning. Khwaish quickly ducked behind the balcony rail. Kabir raised both hands in defense and backed away with a sheepish grin.
“Shut up before I—” Zaviyar began, but was cut short by a familiar voice.
“Enough... what are you two doing? The servants are watching.”
Riffat appeared between them like a gust of wind, grabbing both of their arms. Her expression was stern, but her voice stayed low and firm. Zaviyar took a breath, yanked his arm gently free, and stormed off without another word, the quiet fury in his posture unmistakable.
“Safiya, this is wrong. You shouldn’t speak like that.”, Rabya stepped forward, eyes filled with disapproval. Safiya frowned, clearly frustrated but respectful.
“You're right ammi, I'll apologize to him.”, She turned to Riffat, guilt flickering behind her tired eyes.
“Sorry tayi ammi.”, Riffat didn’t scold her, only smiled gently and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“I’ve never seen my son talk this much before. Even when he is angry. Don't do it again, though. Okay?”
Safiya gave her a small nod, grateful. Kabir came down the stairs quickly, grinning like a kid.
“Zaviyar bhai can joke too? I had no idea.”, He forwarded the video to Agastya with gleeful anticipation, already imagining his reaction.
“Pinch karna mujhe chhutki, kahi mein sapna touh nhi dekh rha.”, Kabir extended his arm toward Khwaish with a goofy smile.
(Pinch me, would you? Just making sure I’m not dreaming.)
“Aaa-ouchhh. Chudail itni jorr se kaatne ko nhi bola tha.”, He yelped in pain as Khwaish delivered a solid pinch. But the ache didn’t go away even when she pulled back.
( Aaahhh-ouchh. You witch, I didn't ask you to pinch me so hard. )
“Ek min yeh dard kam kyu nhi horaha...”
( Wait a minute... Why does it still hurt? )
He looked at his other arm and gasped. He found Safiya grinning as she pinched him from the other side.
“Pehle touh bas yeh chirkut mujhe pareshan karti thi, aab touh aap bhi iski saathi ban gayi.”, he pouted, making everyone laugh harder.
(First it was just this shorty who tormented me, and now you’ve joined her side too.)
Safiya joined in, her laugh ringing through the corridor—until her eyes met Zaviyar’s again.
He stood silently at the top of the staircase, watching her. There was no emotion on his face now. No fury. No mockery. Just a blank, unreadable gaze.
And then, he turned and disappeared.
Safiya’s laughter slowly faded, replaced with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She exhaled deeply.
She had to avoid him at all costs now.