Chapter 28
This chapter is not edited so read at your own risk
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Zaviyar was locked in a low-voiced discussion with Waqas when the steady rhythm of knocks turned into a sudden, violent bang.
The door to his home office flew open before anyone could stand, and Agastya strolled in as if he owned the place.
Zaviyar had seen him arrive on the mansion cameras a few minutes earlier, but nothing on a screen prepared him for the audacity of the man who now planted himself by the desk.
"Teri masroofiyat dekh kar maine khud ko khud hi andar invite kar liya.",Agastya said, voice smooth, smug, like a man who always expected an audience.
(Seeing you so busy, I invited myself in.)
"Get out," Zaviyar replied without looking up, his tone flat, practiced. He let the words fall between them like a cold coin.
Agastya clicked his tongue. "Tch, tch, tch. Hame pata chala, Azamgarh ke nawab sahab aaj kal zara khush mizaaj ho gaye hain. Humne socha hum bhi yeh avishwasniya manzar dekhne chale.", Agastya said with a smug smirk painted on his face which only infuriated Zaviyar more.
(Tch, tch. We heard the Nawab of Azamgarh has been in a good mood lately. We thought we'd come see this unbelievable scene for ourselves.)
"Jo bhi suna hai, woh ghalat hai." Zaviyar said, slow and deliberate. He kept his hands on the folder in front of him, fingers tight at the edges. Waqas watched from the side, the silence between men thickening.
(Whatever you've heard is wrong.)
"Kaano suna jhoot ho sakta hai lekin aankhon dekhi." Agastya said, pulling his phone out and slinging the screen toward Zaviyar with that old, insolent grin. The small rectangle flashed the grainy video. " Nawab Zaviyar Raza Khan kitchen mein? Kahi meri aakhein dhoka touh nhi khaa rahi..."
(What we heard might be a lie, but what we saw with our eyes.)
(Nawab Zaviyar Raza Khan in the kitchen? I think my eyes are playing tricks on me? ...)
Zaviyar felt the office sway for a moment.
He could have told himself it was a cheap edit, a cut-and-paste job made by Kabir because who else had the audacity and the nerve to cross paths with him but the image on the screen had a stubborn weight.
He stood up as if to leave, not from cowardice, but because he could not allow this theater to continue in his house.
"Are you done with your bullshit? Now. Leave. "
Agastya taunted, leaning back and spinning the glass paperweight on Zaviyar's desk like a showman.
"I will leave, but how will you make her go away, huh?
", he asked pointing towards Safiya on the screen who he was carrying in his arms when Kabir and Waqas had walked into the living room after the powercut.
Agastya pushed, steps slow so he could enjoy Zaviyar's discomfort.
"Awaz neeche, Agastya, yeh mera ghar hai.", Zaviyar said. He kept his voice controlled, the kind that does not crack even when something inside him wanted to snap.
(Lower your voice, Agastya, this is my home.)
Agastya shrugged, casual as if talking about the weather. "Toh mera bhi ho jayega kuch hi salon mein." He let the words hang, a promise and a threat braided together.
(Then it will be mine in a few years.)
Zaviyar tried to walk away, to let the absurdity pass but Agastya's next line pulled him back like a hook.
Agastya leaned in, amusement and venom woven together.
"Aur kitna door bhaagega, Zaviyar? No matter how much you run away, this is the reality.
" He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, eyes glittering with malice.
"You have started accepting this marriage and.
.. Safiya. You have forgotten your motive for this marriage.
You are once again letting your emotions overpower your intelligence just like your da-"
(How far will you run, Zaviyar? No matter how much you run away, this is the reality.)
"Enough, Agastya. That is not it." Zaviyar cut him off. The interruption was clean, practiced. He had never liked losing his temper in front of people who traded in spectacle.
Agastya narrowed his eyes and smiled, teeth flashing.
"So you are telling me whatever I'm hearing is wrong?
You suddenly tend to Safiya? You start arranging protocols for her?
You start sending your men to watch her from the shadows.
Don't bullshit me, Zaviyar. You are starting to have feelings for Safiya even if they are just sympathy and pity.
And sympathy is the first step towards lo-"
"What nonsense." Zaviyar interrupted but the word was thinner than he intended.
He could feel the old argument unspooling in his chest, the one between advantage and whatever the thin, dangerous thing that passed for sentiment.
He had rehearsed his answer a hundred times in his head, it never sounded like the same man who now stood in the quiet of his office.
Agastya's grin widened. "I won't say that falling in love is wrong but the one you are falling for is forbidden to you, Zaviyar."
Zaviyar's laugh was a little too sharp. "Like hell I would ever accept this marriage or her.
I did have a little conflict about my feelings regarding her but the moment I started tending to her I witnessed a side which she had been hiding from the very first. Her vulnerable side, the one which is the complete opposite of the Safiya we see on the surface. "
"Keeo lying to yourself Zaviyar but I can see right through you," Agastya said, savoring the words.
"She is the best pawn I have in this little game.
I didn't intend to make her one but her own destiny chose it for her.
If keeping her close means I can destroy Wajahat Shah, then I will do so.
I will make sure that I use her to destroy her own father. "
Agastya tilted his head and added softly, "And when the time comes, will you be able to let go? Will you be able to choose your revenge over her?" Agastya pressed.
Zaviyar's reply came quick, hard, the kind that left no room for doubt. "Always."
Agastya's eyes glittered cruelly. "Good, because when the time comes one has to go. And if you can't do it then I will willingly. And you know I won't hesitate - I will empty the entire barrel into her skull.."
The sentence landed like a fist. For a second the room smelled of old leather and tobacco and the faint citrus polish of the desk.
For some reason Zaviyar could not help the movement of his jaw.
He clenched it so hard his molars ached.
Heat rushed to his face, and his eyes burned red for reasons that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with a raw, sudden protectiveness.
Agastya had seen Zaviyar in a hundred negotiations, in a thousand civil wars of wills but not like this.
Zaviyar's fingers tightened on the folder until the paper groaned. He was not a man who cried, he was not a man who flinched. And yet the idea of Safiya, of someone he had once agreed to use, someone who had become more than a strategy hurt like a personal wound.
"Listen to me," Zaviyar said at last, voice low and even, like the quiet before a storm. "I never asked for her to be anything but useful. But I will not allow anyone to threaten her like that. Not you. Not Wajahat Shah. Not anyone."
Agastya laughed, thin and high. "You will see how easy it is to replace a pawn, Zaviyar. You will see how everything you think you own slips."
Zaviyar's hand moved, not in a show of violence but with absolute calm. He set the folder down, smoothed the air around it and met Agastya's eyes with a look that had nothing of theater in it. It was the look of a man who had mapped out contingencies and stored them like weapons.
"Try it," Zaviyar said softly. "Try to touch her, and you will find I am not so willing to let go of what I choose to keep. You will find that the same barrel pointed at you."
The office seemed to hold its breath. Agastya's smirk faltered for the first time, the mask slipping. He rose from the chair with exaggerated care, as if leaving a stage. " I was here to remind you to not become a lovesick fool and I have done my share of work. "
He exited as abruptly as he had entered, leaving the phone on the desk like a thrown gauntlet. The hallway swallowed his footsteps.
When the door clicked shut, Zaviyar stood very still.
The paperweight twirled to a gentle stop, the video still glowing on the screen.
For a long moment he allowed himself to feel the ache to protect, then the strategy returned.
Safiya was a piece on a board, yes but she had also become something else, something he could not admit he would fight for.
Safiya sha- no, Safiya Zaviyar Khan might not know what she has landed herself in.
But I can't let my feelings get the best of me.
Love is a weakness and I won't let it consume my heart.
But I know how my mom always wanted her to be my wife, somewhere or the other she always wanted Safiya as her daughter in law. And I would do anything for her.
Waqas entered the room and cleared his throat. "Shall I have the guards sweep the perimeter, sahib?"
Zaviyar's jaw unclenched slowly. His eyes were steady now, the red faded to iron.
"Do that. Do that. And get me every camera feed in the area for the last twenty-four hours.
I want to know who leaked the information of the security arrangements and why Agastya thinks he can walk into my house and play with my life. "
Waqas nodded and turned. Zaviyar picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the screen that still held that ugly, small moment.
He did not know whether Agastya's words really affected him or not.
What he did know was this. Whatever game he was playing, he would not be the one left with empty hands when the table was cleared.
He had been so consumed with hatred and the urge to get his revenge that he had completely forgotten that the one he was seeking revenge from was no less. He had told Safiya she didn't matter to him but she clearly did from the very first day because he couldn't help pondering about her.
No matter how much he denied it he had started feeling something for the womrn who is his wife, even though his feelings were conflicted.
She is now his wife and even though he doesn't want to let her have any influence in his life he can't help but circle round to her.
The very little emotions which he had shown to her in the spur of the moments still haunted him.
His wife was badly messing with his head and he couldn't help but develop feelings for her.
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Safiya stretched her arms above her head, rolling her stiff shoulders after hours of staring at her laptop. She closed the lid with a soft sigh, brushing strands of hair away from her face. A walk would help clear her head, she knew that Riffat and Nauman were on their way back.
As she stepped out into the hallway, her lips curved at the sight of Mansi and Rida busy with dusters in hand, polishing corners and furniture. The soft thuds and swipes of cloth echoed in the still mansion.
"All cleaned? Do you all need any help? " she asked lightly as they had been engaged with the work since morning.
Both shook their heads, before smiling and moving aside. Safiya's gaze swept the hall, satisfied until she noticed one of the new maids, a timid-looking girl with plaited hair, walking toward the staircase that wound up the west wing.
The very wing that led directly to Zaviyar's office, she thinks. Before Safiya could say anything, a sharp, panicked shriek ripped through the air.
"Kitni baar bola tha ki humse puche bina kahin bhi mat ghus jaana!", Shabana came running, grabbed the maid roughly by her wrist, and yanked her back, her face pale with fright. Her voice shook as much from fear as from anger.
(How many times have I told you not to wander anywhere without asking us first!)
"Aaj bach gayi. Sahab dekh lete toh aaj hi kaam chudwa dete.",Safiya tilted her head, half amused at the dramatics.
(You were lucky today. If Sahib had seen you, he would've fired you on the spot.)
Zaviyar has somewhat changed in the past few days.
No more useless banter or angry screaming.
He was quite level-headed but had gone extremely quiet.
He had once again started the ritual of religiously avoiding her.
And the soft side she witnessed seemed like a fever dream because it was gone before it even lasted
There had been a slight shift in the dynamics. They started sleeping on the bed alternatively. And sometimes, they would meet at the dining table. She was feeling quite bored for the past few days. With a new idea in her head she walked towards them.
"Dara kyu rahi ho bachchi ko, Shabana? Aur uss Napoleon ke grandchild ko aata bhi kya hai... sabko darate hi toh rehte hain.", Shabana's lips pressed into a tight line, but she released the maid. The girl quickly scurried away, whispering a nervous thanks.
(Why are you scaring the poor girl? And what else does that Napoleon's grandchild know anyway... other than terrifying everyone around him?)
Safiya folded her arms, teasing further, "Wese, Shabana... ab kaunsa Kohinoor chhupa ke rakha hain tumhare sahab ne iss vaale hallway mein?", The older woman lowered her gaze.
(So, Shabana... which Kohinoor diamond has your master hidden in this particular hallway?)
"Pata nahi, bibi-ji. Lekin wahan jaana mana hai.", Safiya let out a dramatic groan, rolling her eyes.
(I don't know, madam. But it's forbidden to go there.)
"Iss ghar mein toh har area pe closed sign lagwa dena chahiye.
Pata nahi kaunsi mystery novel mein jee rahi hoon main.
Ya Allah, male lead toh achcha diya hota.
Mera wala toh jinn ke barabar hai.",She began walking toward the forbidden stairs with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
(They should put a 'closed' sign on every area of this house.
I don't know which mystery novel I'm living in.
Oh God, at least You could've given me a better male lead. Mine is no less than a jinn.)
"Chalo Shabana, wahan chalte hain."
(Come, Shabana, let's go there.)
"Bibi-ji, sahab daatenge!", Shabana gasped, clutching her scarf. (Madam, Sahib will scold you!)
"Roz daant-te hain, Shabana. Koi nayi baat batao.
Mujhe toh laga tha he was warming up to me, lekin dekho- pura din garajte rehte hain.
Mujhse zyada mood swings toh unn sahab ke hote hain.
",Safiya laughed, tugging at her wrist. Against her will, Shabana stumbled along until the two stood before the staircase.
(He scolds me every day, Shabana. Tell me something new. I thought he was warming up to me, but look he keeps roaring the whole day. His mood swings are worse than mine.)
The west wing's farthest corner loomed before them ancient wooden railings, faintly curved like the architecture of another century. Dust motes swirled lazily in the filtered sunlight. The air felt heavier and quieter.
Shabana trembled. "Na karein, bibi-ji. Sahab kachcha chaba jayenge..." (Don't do this, madam. Sahib will chew us raw.)
"Haww! Tum mere shauhar ko aadamkhor keh rahi ho? Agar maine unhe bataya toh-", Safiya gasped theatrically.
(Oh! You're calling my husband a man-eater? If I tell him then-)
"Mera matlab tha woh... woh humein sui pe chadha denge!", Shabana stammered, nearly in tears.
(I meant he'll... he'll hang us out to die!)
"Toh tum unhe jallad keh rahi ho...", Safiya said with an accusing tone though her tone was teasing. ( you're calling him an executioner.)
"Nahi, bibi-ji! Aap samajh nahi rahi... agar dekh liya toh... hamari khair nahi.", Shabana, on the verge of tears quickly covered up.
( No, madam! You don't understand... if he sees us... we're doomed.)
"Kya? Tum kehna chahti ho ke main nasamajh hoon?" Safiya tilted her head, mock offended
(What? Are you trying to say I'm foolish?)
The poor woman wrung her hands, whispering a defeated, "Jee nhi...", she cried out.
" Areh baba, nhi jaungi mein. ", Safiya said comforting Shabana, seeing the poor woman already on the verge of fainting and started pushing her away from that area.
Both of them started walking away from the flight of stairs.
As Shabana hurried off, muttering prayers under her breath, she called after Safiya, " Aaj kya banau bibi-", but there was no reply.
( What should I make today, ma- )
The hallway had swallowed the sound whole.
She turned around to ask Safiya only for her eyes to widen when she didn't find Safiya behind her.
The hallway behind her was completely empty hinting that Safiya had actually gone up and tricked her into thinking that she didn't go there.
She knew if Zaviyar found out he would literally execute them on the spot. Safiya might be spared but not her.
Safiya turned back to the staircase. Something about it beckoned her like a hand pulling her by an invisible thread.
She ascended slowly, her slippers clicking against polished wood.
Each step deepened the silence. The air shifted colder.
A part of the haveli she had never explored before.
The west wing seemed like a labyrinth which only got more puzzling and bigger. Like there wasn't an end to it.
By the time she reached the landing on the particular floor, the brightness had dimmed.
That's when she realised that the particular flight of stairs had not taken her to Zaviyar's office but another floor which was probably part of the north wing.
The walls were lined with portraits, cracked at the edges, fading from neglect.
Dust clung stubbornly despite the shine elsewhere in the mansion.
At the end, she found a glass door that led to a balcony. One which she realised belonged to the north wing. So the curve of the staircase was because it led to the north wing. Faint sunlight invaded through the cracks of the curtains and through the ventilators.
Her fingers trailed along the wall as she walked, heart drumming in her ears.
Then she stopped suddenly. Her gaze locked on one portrait.
The portrait was dull due to the debris collected on the glass of the portrait.
She squinted her eyes and suddenly recognised the people on the portraits.
Her parents- young, newly married, with Riffat and Nauman standing beside them and another couple.
a couple she couldn't recognise. Their faces were blurred and smudged.
Her steps carried her further. Another portrait, this time of an older couple, regal and stern.
They looked older and quite powerful. Maybe they were ever grandparents, perhaps.
Another royal-looking pair but too damaged to recognize.
The glass on that portrait was broken, the face of the man ripped and the woman's smudged that made it blur.
She walked ahead curious and her eyes caught the last portrait of a woman.
An elegant figure, mesmerizing, her painted eyes following Safiya wherever she moved.
Her name inscribed faintly beneath. She was beautiful, majestic looking even.
And for some reason her portrait was spotless.
Like it was taken care of, everyday. It looked clean and polished.
She looked down to read the name Zeenat Raza Khan.... Raza Khan? The name was familiar. The same one which Zaviyar wrote. Is she Zaviyar's dead sister or something? Or maybe his family member who passed away?
She looked up once again at the portrait and switched on her phone flashlight to see the image more clearly. She quickly clicked a picture of that woman. When her eyes landed on the face of the woman she gasped in awe. The woman was absolutely gorgeous.
Safiya suddenly felt her throat tightening when memories she didn't know she had pressed against her mind.
Memories of children laughing. The face of a young boy laughing out loud.
Forwarding a daisy towards her? And a woman's laughter when the boy hugged her.
The same woman in the portrait. A warm, melodic laugh as she lifted the boy into the air, sunlight framing her face.
The faintest image. Fragile like glass that would shatter if she tried to grasp it.
And finally her breath caught.
The woman.
Safiya's hand trembled as she reached forward, fingers hovering over the painted surface, as if touching it would pull the truth out of hiding. But before she could make contact-
A harsh grip seized her wrist. Her gasp lodged in her throat as she spun, only for a palm to clamp over her mouth.
Suddenly she was harshly pulled to turn around.
She stared, wide-eyed into Zaviyar's face his jaw clenched, his eyes bloodshot with fury, his breath uneven as though he'd run to stop her.
He twisted her arm behind her, forcing a sharp wince from her lips. Safiya's body collided against his chest, flush as he yanked her closer. His heat, his scent spiced smoke and dominance swallowed her whole.
Her heart thundered not from his hold alone, but from the shock of his sudden, terrifying presence.
Her heart thundered, her breath caught beneath his palm as she stared into the storm that was Zaviyar's eyes.
His grip on her wrist was merciless, the rough press of his chest against her making her spine arch uncomfortably.
The silence between them was thick, heavier than the walls of the haveli itself.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, dangerous, each word burning against her skin like a slow flame.
"Main ne mana kiya tha..." His breath was hot against her ear, ragged with restrained fury. "Yahan kadam rakhna mana hai, Safiya."
(I warned you... You are forbidden from stepping foot here, Safiya.)
He wrenched her arm higher, not enough to break but enough to make her gasp through his hand.
The sting of pain shot up her shoulder.and tears of protest pricked her eyes.
Seeing the wrinkles of pain wretched on her face he immediately let go realising the force with which he had held her.
He immediately loosened the hold but still didn't let go.
Safiya's muffled sound vibrated against his palm until, with a sharp hiss, he released her mouth with another hiss when she bit harder.
But his grip on her wrist didn't loosen - no, it only tightened but it wasn't painful.
She staggered back a step, only for his hold to yank her forward again, her body colliding with his in a clash of heat and defiance.
"Tum samajhti ho yeh sab khel hai?" Zaviyar's jaw clenched, his voice dark, edged with the promise of wrath barely contained. "Main har baar bardasht karun tumhari zid?"
(Do you think this is some game? That I'll tolerate your defiance every single time?)
Her lips curved, even though the sting in her arm was palpable, the corners of her lips quirking upward in a defiant smirk. "Toh kya karoge? You dotn scare me Zaviyar. "
His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The shadows of the dim corridor clung to his face, carving the sharp lines of his fury deeper.
" Why don't you just listen to me for onc-" His voice dropped, as though words alone weren't enough to cage the storm within him. His free hand slammed against the wall beside her head, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Dust shook loose from the cracked portraits.
The frame of Zeenat Raza Khan's portrait trembled faintly in the force, the polished glass catching a flicker of light.
Safiya's gaze darted back to it. "Yeh kaun hai, Zaviyar?" Her voice was steady but her heart pounded. "Yeh aurat... kyun lagta hai ke main inhe pehle se jaanti hoon?"
(Who is she, Zaviyar? This woman... why does it feel like I've known her before?)
For the first time, his grip faltered a fraction, a hesitation. His eyes, once filled with fire flickered with something else. A shadow, a hazy memory. His chest heaved as if he were dragging back ghosts with every breath.
But then the steel returned. He yanked her wrist harder, pulling her flush against him, his mouth so close to her ear that she felt every vibration of his words.
"Tumhe jitna jaana hai, utna hi bataya gaya hai. Aur yeh hi tumhare liye kaafi hai." His voice was sharp, controlled rage but beneath it something raw trembled.
(You've been told as much as you need to know. And that should be enough for you.)
Safiya's throat tightened. For the first time, she caught the crack in his armour. His steen front was fleeting, almost invisible, but it was there.
Her lips parted, ready to push further, to demand answers but before she could-
He spun her, pressing her back against the cold wall, his hand flat beside her head, his other still locking her wrist. The fury in his eyes burned brighter but beneath it simmered something unspoken. .
"Dobara..." His voice was no longer a warning but a lethal whisper that scraped against her skin. "Dobara yahan kadam mat rakha toh...."
(Never ever set foot here again... )
His words weren't loud, but the promise in them wrapped around her like iron chains.
Safiya's pulse roared, her body caught between fear and something else a thrill that curled in the pit of her stomach despite her better judgment. She lifted her chin, her voice mocking but quieter now, her defiance laced with a shaky breath.
"Tumhe lagta hai tum mujhe dara sakte ho, Zaviyar? Nhi manungi mein tumhari baat kya karoge... ", Safiya's pitch only got higher, as she threatened him.
(You think you can scare me, Zaviyar? And what will you do if I don't listen to you, huh? )
For a heartbeat, silence etched between them as Zaviyar looked at the fiery kitten trying to be a tigress. He smirked seeing the same fire burning within her.
And then his lips twisted, not into a smile, but into something far darker. His grip on her tightened just enough to make her knees weaken. His eyes bored into her, a storm she wasn't sure she could survive. She gasped inaudibly when he pressed his body against her completely.
His hard, callous chest smashing against her soft one, his head lowered to the crook of her neck as he sniffed the absolutely divine smell of his wife. He let out a breath which fanned against her nape, making the hair on her neck rise as her breaths became shallow.
She could feel his scent overpower her senses, the spicy musk and the warmth of his touch not to mention the warm shawl which pressed against her.
The top buttons of his kameez were undone giving her slight view of his toned contours and the sleeves of his white kurta rolled till his elbows.
From the corner of her eyes she could see the veins on his hand making her gulp and look away.
A storm brewed in his chest, she could feel it in the way his body pressed against hers, the way his breath came uneven, ragged with something far more dangerous than anger.
But she couldn't help but feel a weird sensations in her stomach when she felt his shallow breaths and that's when he whispered into her ear, each word tickling her nape.
" If you dont listen to me then I'll chain you to the bed and-" he smirked, his voice low, lethal, yet dripping with something that made her pulse skip violently.
" And you will torture me? ", she completed deeply affected by his words. For a second he wondered if she a tually believed him or just acting and the latter proved to be correct when she looked at him with a eye roll.
" Yes, I'll torture you. Lekin mere tareeqe se."
(Yes, I'll torture you but in my own way.)
Safiya could feel the solid heat of his chest against her softer frame before, the tension in his muscles like a coiled spring about to snap.
Her lips parted, a sharp intake of air betraying her shock, though she masked it quickly with a smirk.
" So you are not any different? You are also another sick pervert who wants my body.
You think woman are just sex machines to be fucked and produce children.
Dare you lay a finger on me and I'll make sure to chop your dick into pieces and feed it to the fishes in your pond.
Do you fucking understand me? ", she shot back, her voice a mix of mockery and breathlessness.
That struck something in him. His eyes darkened, his grip on her wrist entirely loosened before completely stepped back from her.
His hand slammed harder into the wall behind him, shocking her completely. That would definitely leave bruises.
" I'm not a fucking rapist Safiya. I-", His voice was gravel, heavy, like restrained thunder.
" Oh really? Because i would beg to differ.
Because you already tried to force yourself on me.
No matter what your intentions were but you were no less than a monster to me that night.
", Her breath came faster, her heart drumming a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
But instead of shrinking, she tilted her head upward.
" I am not a rapist. I didn't want you to have expectations from me or this marr- ", he said, his voice low and stern. His face was non-chalant and expressionless yet something swirled in his orbs.
" Expectations were dead the moment I signed on the nikahnama but the least I could expect from you was mutual respect. I don't need your sympathy or your love or the so called invisible money you claim to have. Chaar din se ek hee shawl pehenke ghum rahe ho- "
" Excuse me- ", For the briefest second, Zaviyar froze. The lines of fury on his face shifted not softened but blurred with something primal, unrestrained and shock. His eyes flickered from her defiant gaze to her parted lips, then back again as though fighting a war within himself.
He walked closer, resting his one hand on the wall above her head and leaned down closer making her shift back subconsciously and let out a gasp when her back hit the wall behind her.
She was trapped. Safiya felt the shiver in his restraint.
The wildness clawing beneath his control.
The way his chest rose and fell against hers, almost trembling with the effort it took not to.
.. not to close that inch of space between them.
"Tum... samajhti nahi ho, Safiya," he muttered finally, his voice a dangerous whisper, hoarse and raw. His forehead brushed hers, not tenderly, but with the weight of a warning. " I'm a dangerous man Safiya. One you shouldn't be close to. The moment you come closer you will burn in the flames.... "
'Of my hatred', he whispered in his head.
Her lashes fluttered, her lips curving into the faintest, reckless smile. "And danger has never scared me, Zaviyar"
That was it, the final spark on dry kindling.
His fingers flexed against her wrist, his grip on her unrelenting, his body crowding hers until the cold wall at her back was the only thing keeping her upright.
For a heartbeat, for a breath, for an eternity, the line between fury and something darker blurred.
The silence between them stretched, taut like a bowstring about to snap. Safiya could feel the wall's chill seeping into her back, yet all she registered was the searing heat of Zaviyar's nearness. His presence consumed everything, from her breaths to the beating of her heart.
His breath was harsh against her cheek, the kind that carried a storm, not softness. His hand still clamped her wrist against the wall, his knuckles pale from the pressure. Every muscle in his body screamed with violence barely restrained.
"You... you like to test my patience and drive me insan e, don't you? " Zaviyar's voice was low, gravelly, laced with fire
Safiya's lips curved, sharp as a blade. " Drive you insane? Oh no, that's too kind my dear. If I pulled any trick you would already be in a mental asylum. ", she said with a smirk.
" So what's stopping you from doing so? Or have you fallen for me and can't bear the thought of letting your husband suffer in the asylum.
But then again I'm not suffering anymore less here, talking to you always meds up giving me a headac- ", her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowing into dark slits that burned holes through his words.
He leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly brushing, his shadow swallowing her whole.
" I will make sure that you have a wonderful experience from now onwards. ", she said with a twisted smirk already planning on things she could do to traumatise him.
" So the fiery little kitten has started showing her claws, hmm? ", he said with a lilt, lifting her chin with his forefinger as he teased her with his words. " So what will you do? Scratch me? "
" I'll make sure to ruin this so-called reputation you claim to cherish so much when all you have is a throne built on lies. ", Safiya hissed making Zaviyar only look at her by raising his brow.
"My anger is deadlier than fear, Safiya. And you've challenged both again and again. Be careful or it will burn you down into ashes." he whispered this time, his voice growing darker each second..
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, but her gaze never wavered. "Then burn me, Zaviyar. I want to see if your anger is truly capable of breaking me.."
Something flickered in his eyes- a flash of something unspoken, wild and dangerous. His grip tightened, his body pressing just enough for her to feel the raw force he carried, yet not crossing into touch that would shatter the fragile, volatile line.
The room itself seemed to vibrate with the weight of their clash. The ticking clock on the wall sounded deafening, every second punctuating the silence between their words.
Finally, Zaviyar exhaled, long and harsh as though pulling himself back from the edge of something irreversible. His jaw clenched, the vein in his neck straining. He released her wrist abruptly, the sudden freedom making her stumble back against the wall.
But his eyes... God, those eyes stayed locked on hers, molten, unrelenting, carrying a promise and a threat all at once.
"Tum sochti ho tum mujhe samajh gayi ho," he muttered, his voice dangerously soft, "but you've only seen my shadow, Safiya. Don't force me to become what I've sworn to keep hidden. Stay away from me and it will be for the best of us. "
(You think you've understood me, )
And with that, he stepped back not retreating but withdrawing like a predator choosing patience over the immediate kill.
Safiya pressed her palm to the wall, her pulse hammering, her lips parted, her body still thrumming with the aftershock of his nearness.
The silence still echoed when Zaviyar turned away, his tall frame retreating into the shadows of the room.
Safiya's chest heaved, her fingers curling into fists at her sides, when a sudden scurrying sound made her freeze.
She felt a warm, fuzzy, prickly thing walk over her leg.
It was some way furry and wet at the same time.
Her eyes darted to the corner- a rat.
Not just a small one but a really big rat.
Its beady eyes glinting as it darted across the floor.
"Aahhhhhh! Mummy, chuhaa chuhaa- " she gasped instinctively, jerking upward.
She immediately jumped onto Zaviyar, her hands wrapped around his neck, while she somehow wound both her legs around his waist taking him by surprise.
She shut her eyes close and hid her face in the crook of his neck as she let out low screams.
In her frantic movement, Zaviyar who was taken aback by shock couldn't help but stumble back.
She didn't weigh much but the impact of her suddenly throwing herself at him made him stumble and his back slammed into the wall, right against the large portrait hanging there.The frame wobbled, teetered and before they could stop it, the heavy painting crashed to the ground with a sharp thud.
The glass shattered, scattering across the floor like shards of ice.
Safiya looked up from his nape at the sudden noise and looked stunned.
She quickly let go of him and jumped down from him.
He stumbled, blinking at the mess. Her first thought was - mein touh gayi.
(Now I'm finished.) Zaviyar's wrath was going to be merciless.
But instead of the expected explosion, he turned sharply, his eyes locking not on her, but on the fallen portrait. For the first time that night, Safiya saw something unfamiliar flicker in his face, not rage, not pride, but something rawer, almost fragile and vulnerability.
He strode forward, pushing past her without a glance and crouched down before the broken frame. His large hands carefully lifted it, his thumb brushing against the cracked glass as though afraid the shards might cut deeper than they already had.
Safiya's eyes widened. The way he held it close to his chest, protective, almost reverent made her breath hitch.
"Zaviyar..." she whispered, uncertain, watching the cold, untouchable man she knew soften in the span of a heartbeat.
His jaw tightened, his shoulders rigid as though he had just remembered she was there, watching.
But he didn't scold her. He didn't lash out.
Instead, he pressed the portrait closer, as if guarding it from even her gaze.
For a brief moment, the silence between them shifted no longer laced with fire but with the weight of an unspoken secret.
Safiya blinked, her curiosity burning. But his face, when he finally looked up, was shuttered again, his walls back in place. His eyes hardened, his voice low and flat.
"Enough drama for today. Leave.", The command was cold but his grip on the shattered portrait betrayed him. Safiya lingered, her throat tight, before slowly stepping back, her gaze locked on the cracks that seemed to mirror the man himself, flawless on the surface, fractured beneath.
Safiya's hand twitched at her side, caught between anger and something else she couldn't name. Watching him hold that broken portrait not with fury but with ache made something shift inside her. Against her better judgment, she stepped closer.
"Zaviyar..." her voice was softer this time, stripped of mockery, she placed her hand on his shoulder to explain herself . "Mein-mein ne jaan bujhkar nahi kiya. Agar-agar yeh tumhare liye aham tha toh..."
(I didn't do it on purpose. If... if this was important to you, then...)
She stopped short, searching for the right words, her pride warring with the odd tug in her chest. He didn't lift his head. His thumb kept tracing the jagged crack along the glass, the way one touches an old scar.
For a moment, she thought he might actually let her in. That the storm might settle.
She bent slightly, her hand hovering uncertainly near his arm. "Zaviyar... I'm sorry. I can understand that-"
That was when his head snapped up. The look in his eyes was not soft, it was fire reignited, sharp and cutting. His jaw locked, and in an instant the mask was back, harder than ever.
"Understand?" His voice came out low, his grip tightening on the portrait as though shielding it from her touch. "You can neither understand this, nor do you have any right t- just leave safiya. ", he said turning away from her, his words merely a whisper.
Safiya flinched, her hand freezing midair. He rose to his full height, towering over her, his chest heaving with the force of his words.
"Don't. Don't look at me with pity." he roared, his voice echoing off the walls.
Safiya's throat went dry, her own anger sparking, but she swallowed it down. This wasn't the same fire they'd been exchanging before. This... this was something else. Something rawer.
"Zaviyar, main bas-"
"CHUP RAHO!" The scream tore from him, jagged and merciless.
He was trembling, not from weakness but from the unbearable strain of holding himself together.
His eyes burned into hers, a storm refusing to break.
"Bas chali jao. Is waqt. Is kamre se. Mere saamne se.
"
(Just leave. Right now. From this room. From in front of me.)
The command was so sharp it sliced the air in half.
For a beat, Safiya stood frozen. Her pride urged her to snap back, to claw at him with words until he bled like she did. But the way he clutched that fractured portrait, so fiercely, so desperately. That stopped her.
She swallowed hard, forcing her chin up even as her chest ached.
Then, just as suddenly, his hand loosened on the portrait.
The frame slipped from his grasp, landing back onto the floor with a muted thud.
His knuckles were bloodied from the glass, but he didn't seem to notice.
He had realised that the pair of eyes watching him were no less the eyes of a predator and he couldn't show his weakness by falling on his knees for a mere portrait. So he let go of it.
He stared at her one last time, his face twisted with something too raw to name - fury, grief, maybe both. Then, in a voice rough and broken, he spat, "Meri zindagi se door raho. Tum meri kamzori nahi ban sakti."
(Stay away from my life. You can never be my weakness.)
Before she could respond, Zaviyar turned sharply on his heel. His footsteps thundered down the hallway, retreating fast, as if her presence suffocated him.
The door slammed behind him, leaving silence in his wake.
Safiya stood frozen, her chest aching as though his words had been carved into her ribs. Her eyes drifted to the portrait on the floor cracked, abandoned, the glass still glittering with fresh blood.
For the first time, she wondered what ghost Zaviyar was truly protecting.
" Mujhe jaane ka kehke khud hee chale gaye, ya allah kese paagal aadmi se shaadi hogayi hain meri... ", she leaned against the wall staring at the broken and dirty hallway making up her mind to do something. To hell with his bipolar emotions.
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