Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 33

This chapter isn't edited so read at your own risk.

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I descended the marble staircase, each click of my heels echoing softly through the hallway like a rhythm announcing my arrival. The morning light streamed through the tall windows, bouncing off the polished floors.

A stack of neatly arranged files rested in my arms, case documents I needed for court. I handed them to Shabana, instructing her to keep them in the car. Behind me, Zaviyar followed, his phone pressed to his ear, speaking in that low, commanding tone of his that made people listen.

I had gotten an emergency call from the firm earlier, a client had shown up unexpectedly, which meant I had to rush to court right after breakfast. There was no time to waste.

As I entered the dining room, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed tea and warm parathas filled the air.

The table looked elegant, as always, set with fine china and gleaming cutlery.

"Good morning," I greeted everyone politely, my voice carrying just enough warmth to sound civil yet calm.

I was about to pull my chair out when a hand reached forward and held it for me.

I looked up, it was Zaviyar. Still on the phone, still speaking but his eyes were on me. Focused and intent. He didn't say anything, just gestured with a small tilt of his head, telling me to sit.

I smiled faintly and took my seat, slipping my blazer over the headrest. Zaviyar finally ended his call and took his seat at the head of the table, his usual spot.

A staff member appeared almost immediately, setting before me a bowl of creamy Greek yogurt topped with fresh berries, chia seeds glistening under a drizzle of honey.

Beside it sat a perfectly folded spinach and tomato omelette, still steaming, and a delicate cup of green tea.

"What is this?" tayi ammi questioned, squinting at my plate in disapproval. "Why are you serving her this bland food? She needs to eat healthy."

I smiled politely. "No, tayi ammi. I was the one who wanted it. Parathas are too oily for me. And I've stopped going to the gym entirely - eating oily food too much will mess up my metabolism."

( No, tayi ammi. I chose this myself. Parathas are too oily, and since I've stopped going to the gym, eating like that will ruin my metabolism.)

Just as I lifted my spoon, I noticed movement from the corner of my eye. Zaviyar was leaning slightly, his hand sneaking toward my bowl and before I could react, he stole a strawberry. I narrowed my eyes at him in mock annoyance, but he only shrugged, pretending innocence.

So, naturally, I reached out and stole a spoon of his phirni in revenge. The look on his face was priceless he stared at me like I had just committed an unforgivable crime.

"Chor..." he muttered while chewing on the strawberry.

( Thief...)

"Tumne shuru kiya." I pointed my spoon at him, grinning.

( You started it.)

"I was checking whether the strawberry was sour or not." He said with a straight face, making me roll my eyes.

"Ab dekho tum, sab chura lungi." I shot back, trying not to laugh.

( Now see, I'll steal everything.)

He leaned closer, his voice soft but teasing, "Mera dil chura liya, aur kuch baki hain?", his voice was a mere whisper but Kabir who sat beside me had rabbit ears.

( You've already stolen my heart, is there anything left?)

I squinted at him, pretending not to blush, but before I could reply, a loud coughing sound broke through. It was Kabir he had just spat out the water he was drinking.

"Bhabi, are you sure yeh bhai hain? Kahin aapne hamare asli bhai ko kidnap shidnap karwa ke koi humshakal toh nahi le aayi na?" Kabir teased, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

( Sister-in-law, are you sure this is really my brother? Did you kidnap the real one and bring back a doppelganger?)

I burst out laughing, barely holding back my giggles. "Areh, raat ko buxaar hua tha, tabhi shayad dimagi santulan hil gaya.", i whispered back.

( He had a fever last night, maybe that's why his mental balance got disturbed.)

Both Kabir and I started laughing uncontrollably, while Zaviyar just frowned, his patience thinning. "Kabir, I got a call from your dean the other day."

Kabir froze mid-laugh, eyes widening. In a second, he was gulping down his food and standing up, muttering something about forgetting his assignment before practically sprinting out of the room.

"Napolean kahi ka..." I mumbled under my breath, shaking my head as I took another bite of my omelette.

( This Napoleon...)

" Agwa karu aapko? ", he asked looking at me dead seriously, his glare making a shiver run down my spine. Not like I was scared of him, but the way he looked at me told me that he actually meant what he had said.

( Shall I kidnap you then? )

Zaviyar smirked then went back to his meal, while I mumbled curses at him. He finished his breakfast quietly, wiped his lips with a napkin and was about to leave when I called after him.

"Take the medicine," I reminded him, my tone soft but firm. He had been hiding how sick he really was. His fever had gone down a little but his hoarse voice and the redness around his nose gave him away.

"Medicines for what?" tayi ammi asked, looking between us in confusion.

"He got sick last night." I replied.

"What? You should have told me!" she fussed, her voice laced with concern.

"It's okay, ammi. Safiya took care of me." He smiled gently, and I could feel my heartbeat pick up for some reason. One of the staff members handed him his medicine, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Waqas entering the house.

"Khuda Hafeez." Zaviyar said, turning to leave. But then, suddenly, he stopped mid-step and turned back to me. I had already stood up, blazer in hand, ready to rush off myself. That's when he came closer, close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating from him and gently held my shoulder.

"Don't be late, okay?" His voice was calm, but there was something in it. Maybe concern, or something softer that he wasn't saying out loud. And before I could respond, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against my temple.

It was so brief, barely lasted a few seconds but the touch of his lips lingered. I knew the people around us froze, probably shocked at such open affection.

His fingers trailed down my arm slowly, and even through the fabric of my shirt, I could feel the heat of his touch.

He caught the tips of my fingers, holding them as if letting go would hurt.

Then, one by one, his fingers slipped away, brushing lightly against my knuckles before he finally released them.

My hand suddenly longed for his warmth, the mere feathery touch.

"Khayal rakhiyega apna.", And with that, he turned and walked away.

( Take care of yourself.)

For a moment, everything felt still, like the world itself had paused. I stood there, frozen, watching his back as he walked toward the main door. My throat tightened. I wanted to call out, to wave, to say something but I couldn't. My voice wouldn't come.

Please... just turn around once.

And as if he heard my silent wish, he stopped.

Turned. His eyes met mine instantly, and I swear I felt a rush of wind-almost magical.

My cheeks flushed before I could help it.

I waved at him and for the first time in what felt like ages, I saw a smile tug at his lips.

It was small, barely there but it was real.

Hayee! Thora sa defective maal hai lekin mera hai.

( Hayee! My man is a little defective, but still mine.)

I turned my head, only to find Mansi and Rida grinning at me from across the table, their teasing smiles saying everything they didn't have to say aloud. I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the stupid smile tugging at my lips.

I was about to leave too, but stopped when I noticed tayi ammi standing in front of me.

She wasn't smiling. I straightened up slightly and smiled at her politely, knowing she wanted to say something.

By now, all the staff had quietly slipped out of the room, leaving just the two of us and a silence that suddenly felt heavy.

"Beta, I know your life was a lot different in the city but now-"

I looked up, confused, watching her pause as if searching for the right words. Her expression was calm but careful like she was trying not to offend me.

"Uhh, it's still a village. And people here are not used to seeing the daughter-in-laws dressed like this." she finally said, pointing subtly at my outfit.

I blinked, taken aback. "What's wrong with this?" I asked, genuinely puzzled. I was dressed in a simple all-black outfit-elegant yet modest. What could possibly be wrong with that?

"It shows the form of your body and doesn't really look like you are somebody's wife, you see." she explained, her tone soft yet laced with that typical matriarchal authority.

"Zaviyar is not an ordinary man of the village, Safiya.

He is the most respected person in the entire village.

A few ladies of our family want to come here to see you.

Also, you will have to meet the villagers with Zaviyar in a few days.

Being his wife is a huge responsibility, and sometimes you have to step back.

Biwi hamesha apne shohar ke piche, sar jhukaye hue hee achchi lagti hain. "

( A wife always looks good standing behind her husband, with her head bowed.)

For a moment, her words just... floated over my head. Not that I couldn't decipher her words, rather I didn't want to. I stared blankly, trying to process what she had just said.

"Heh?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, my brows furrowed in disbelief. She stared at me seriously, clearly not joking and that made it even more absurd.

"Tayi ammi, I'm sorry. I'm his wife, not his slave," I said, trying to keep my tone controlled but the irritation seeped through.

"Aur aapne kaha ki woh nawab hain Azamgarh ka, right? So what? Nawab bas ek title hain, city mein hum isse berozgar hona kehte hain. Though I see him working for the betterment of the village which is great. But apart from the silver spoon he got, what has he exactly done to earn respect?"

( And you said he's the Nawab of Azamgarh, right? So what? 'Nawab' is just a title, in the city, we call that being unemployed. )

I knew my words were sharp, maybe even harsh but I couldn't stop.

Why should I have to change who I was? Before marriage, they had promised I wouldn't be forced to give up my work, my independence.

That had been one of my meher conditions.

And now, suddenly, all that talk of freedom was disappearing under the weight of so-called tradition.

I respected her, truly. But respect didn't mean surrendering my right to live freely.

"Yeh kaisi baat kar rahi ho tum beta? Zaviyar ki izzat ho tum. Jab tum hee uski izzat nahi karogi toh dusre toh-" she stopped, sighing, her tone shifting from stern to weary.

( What are you saying, dear? You are Zaviyar's honor. If you don't respect him, how will others?)

"Main bas yeh keh rahi hoon ki paiso ki esi khaas kami nahi hain hamare paas. Tum kaam naa karo tab bhi koi masla nahi hain. Bahar paseena bahane se achcha hain, Zaviyar ke saath gaon ke saare kaam dekh liya karo. Apni taleem apne pati ke liye istimaal karo. Apni shaadi aur Zaviyar ko aur waqt do."

( I'm only saying that we're not short on money. You don't have to work. Instead of struggling outside, use your education to support your husband and your marriage.)

I sighed, my patience thinning. Pulling my phone out, I unlocked the screen without saying a word, which made her frown instantly.

"Kise call laga rahi ho?" she asked suspiciously.

( Who are you calling?)

"Khwaish ko." I replied casually.

Her brows knitted together. "Kyun?"

( Why?)

"Socha usse bata du, ki internship karne ki koi zarurat nahi hain. Kyunki shaadi ke baad kaam karne se uski shaadi par asar padega. Aur ladkiya baheer kaam karte hue achchi nhi lagti, right? "

( I thought I'd tell her there's no need to do her internship - because apparently, working after marriage affects your marriage. And girls don't look good working outside right?

Her expression hardened. "Safiya, tum baat ko samajh nahi rahi ho. Shaadi se pehle mujhe pata hai kuch baatein kahi gayi thi, lekin woh bas uss waqt kehne ke liye thi. Ab puri zindagi toh waise nahi kat sakti na. Zaviyar ko toh esi ladkiyo se sakht nafrat hai jo-"

( Safiya, you're not understanding. I know some promises were made before marriage, but those were just words for that time. Life can't always go that way. Zaviyar hates girls who-)

I cut her off sharply before she could finish.

"Toh woh uski problem hai. Meri nahi." I said, shrugging.

( Then that's his problem, not mine.)

Her face fell. "Zaviyar abhi iss shaadi ko ek mauka de raha hai, toh tum kyu waisi nahi ban sakti jaisi usse pasand hai?"

( Zaviyar is giving this marriage a chance, why can't you become the way he likes?)

"Toh ab main abla-naari ban jaoon? Aur uske liye naukrani ki tarah kaam karti rahoon? He's a grown man, let him be one." I snapped, my tone sharper than intended.

( So, i should become a damsel in distress for him? And work like a slave for him? He's a grown man, let him be one. )

Her eyes softened but her voice stayed low.

"Beta, main tumhe samjhane ki koshish kar rahi hoon. I want your marriage to work. Pehle se hi woh tumse thoda dur dur rehta hai, aur tumhare darmiyan woh sab nahi hai jo ek pati patni mein hona chahiye."

( Dear, I'm just trying to make you understand. I want your marriage to work. He already seems distant from you, and there's not the same closeness that should exist between a husband and wife.)

" Tayi ammi, I'm sorry if I sound rude but that's our personal matter and you shouldn't be prying into that. "

" Safiya, what I'm saying is. It's been so long since your marriage.

It's high time you start prioritising your marriage.

Dress up nicely for him, try to make his favourite dishes, try to satisfy his needs.

", i literay cringed at her words. " You should try to listen to him in public, and don't speak back to him near maids.

He has a reputation to uphold in this village.

And you... You are his wife, you should know how to do things so that your husband isn't demeaned.

I wouldn't have to explain this to a girl who would have been from a family like zulekha's. ", she sighed.

" don't get me wrong. You are a good girl just not the type who can take the burden of being the Khan's wife.

You should cover your head with a dupatta, but you roam around like you are unmarried.

Girls like this are called names here. If somebody calls you names, then it's humiliating for Zaviyar. "

" You know, Zaviyar can forgive a lot- careless words, childish fights.

But the moment someone drags his family's name through the mud, everything changes.

His grandfather's name isn't a story to be debated, it's the backbone of who he is.

He defends that backbone with teeth. You may call yourself his wife but love doesn't put you above decency.

If you become the reason people whisper and point, don't expect that to be fixed with apologies or promises.

He won't shout, he won't make a scene, he'll simply stop pretending you belong in the same sentence as his name. "

" I'm saying this for your good beta. stop giving him reasons to be ashamed.

Be the wife he can stand beside, not the excuse he's forced to make.

And when you finally see the look on his face not anger, not contempt, only the quiet disappointment of a man who has already let you go in his heart.

You'll understand that you were never the woman he would fight for; you were the mistake he learned to live with. "

I felt my body tremble in controlled rage and frustration. Before I could respond, a deep, firm voice boomed through the dining hall -

"AMMI-"

The sound froze us both. We turned toward the entrance where Zaviyar stood, his expression unreadable, his voice sharp yet controlled. The air felt heavier instantly.

He walked toward us, the steady thud of his footsteps echoing through the marble hall. My heartbeat was loud in my ears. Rage, embarrassment, confusion I couldn't tell which emotion was which anymore.

"Zaviyar, main-" tayi ammi began, but he raised a hand gently to stop her and came to stand beside me. His gaze flicked to my face, maybe searching for a reaction. I just shrugged, not trusting my voice.

"She doesn't need to change herself, Ammi." His voice was calm but every word carried weight.

"Par beta, main toh tum dono ki bhalai ke liye bol rahi hoon. Main nahi chahti ki koi tumpe ya tumhari malkiyat pe ungli uthaye."

( I'm only saying this for both your good. I don't want anyone questioning you or your dignity.)

"Enough, Ammi. That's enough.", tay ammi got startled at his tone. The silence that followed felt heavier than any shout.

" Do you even hear yourself? Ammi, this house belongs to Safiya as much as it belongs to me. No one points a finger at my wife in my presence." His voice softened slightly as he looked at me, then back at her.

"Aap logon ne shaadi ke waqt jab Safiya ko zabaan di thi, ki uski zindagi nahi badlegi, tab aapne yeh sab sochna tha, Ammi. Ab yeh sab kehkar aap bas yeh saabit kar rahi hain ki khan'on mein gairat nahi hai."

( You should've thought of this when you promised Safiya that marriage wouldn't change her life. Saying these things now only proves that the family has no honor.)

"Safiya jaise chahe reh sakti hai. Nikah ke samay maine uski har shart maani thi, aur ab main apni baat se nahi mukar sakta."

( Safiya can live as she wishes. I accepted every condition she had during our nikah, and I will not go back on my word.)

He walked closer, standing shoulder to shoulder with me. His hand reached for mine, fingers intertwining with mine. Then he picked up his phone from the table.

"Aapne sahi kaha Ammi, Safiya meri izzat hai. Isiliye main nahi chahta ki meri izzat par koi bhi ungli uthaye - aap bhi nahi."

( You were right, Ammi. Safiya is my honor. That's exactly why I won't allow anyone, not even you, to question her.)

Zaviyar said, his voice low but trembling with fury

" You talk about dignity and legacy but where's the dignity in tearing down the woman I have to build my life with?

You think I don't know what people say about me?

I've heard worse, but I never cared. Because Safiya.

.. she taught me what it actually means to stand by someone, not just when the world is watching, but when it's falling apart.

.You talk about my grandfather's name as if it's a shrine I have to guard but what use is that name if I can't even protect the woman who shares it with me now?

", his voice cracks slightly, the anger turning raw.

" Safiya didn't marry me for the name, Ammi like zulekha was going to She stayed when I didn't deserve her, when my pride nearly ruined everything.

She showed me that marriage isn't about control or reputation.

it's about faith faith that holds even when everything else breaks.

So no, Ammi. you don't get to talk about her like that.

Not in this house. Not in front of me. Because the truth is.

.. if there's anyone who's made me worthy of this family's name, it's her.

", He takes a step closer, his voice soft but final.

" You taught me to protect what's sacred. She's sacred to me. ", He looks at his mother for a long moment, his eyes softening with disappointment rather than anger.

"And the saddest part is... the woman who taught me what respect means just forgot how to give it."

The words hang in the air, and are impossible to take back. With a gentle tug, he pulled me along. I glanced back at tayi ammi. she looked hurt, disappointed but she nodded slightly, saying nothing.

As we walked away, the sound of my heels clicked against the marble floor, echoing faintly behind his steady stride. He didn't say a word, his hand still gripping mine firmly and I couldn't tell whether it was anger, protectiveness, or something in between keeping him silent.

Was he angry at me now?

We stopped when we reached the porch. The sunlight fell behind him, outlining his tall frame in a golden glow. He turned abruptly, and for a second, my breath caught.

"Ammi ne agar kuch zyada keh diya ho toh I'm sorry." he said softly, exhaling, his tone far calmer now. His hand was still holding mine, his thumb brushing gently against my skin as if silently asking me to let it go - whatever had just happened.

And somehow, that one simple gesture said everything he didn't.

"I won't say it's okay because I was truly offended back there.

I won't thank you because the stand that you took for me there.

.." I paused, my voice trembling with restrained anger, "You should've taken that from the first day.

Then maybe nobody would have noticed our broken marriage and decided it was okay to shame me-the unwanted wife because my dear husband decided that he hated me for simply saving his ass by marrying him. "

The words poured out through gritted teeth, sharp and raw. I wasn't yelling, but every syllable was soaked in hurt. Yes, I knew he had stood up for me today, but this. This wasn't a favor. This was the bare minimum. Something he should have done long ago.

If only he had been the strong, fearless man he claimed to be, we wouldn't have reached this point where I had to defend my right to exist in his world. Tired and furious, I turned around to leave, but before I could take a step, his hand shot out and wrapped firmly around my arm, pulling me back.

"Your anger is valid, Safiya," he said quietly, his voice deep but steady. "But don't turn your back on me. We fight, then we sort it out right then."

His grip shifted to my shoulders, grounding me, his eyes searching mine with that same fierce intensity that always made me look away. I tried to, but he tilted my chin up gently until our eyes met again.

"I'm sorry for what Ammi said," he murmured softly, almost as if he meant it more than he'd ever meant anything else.

"I don't want you to be sorry." My voice cracked.

"I respect tayi ammi but she made it quite clear, Zaviyar.

That to be recognized as your wife, I need to be what Zulekha was like.

She told me how I'm not your type. Every time we take a step, there's someone or something that pulls us a thousand steps back. "

I didn't even realize when I started ranting. The frustration had been festering for so long, it just spilled out. I stopped only when he pressed his index finger lightly against my lips.

"Shh... shhh... calm down." His voice was low, soothing. "Safiya, I don't know what my type is, okay? I never dated anyone. My marriage was fixed with my ex-fiancé because she was my parents' choice. You might not have been my choice, but you were the right person all along."

" I know it's not your fault entirely but i can't become whatever you desire or want.

I won't change myself to fit in here or with you.

If being like this means I can't stand beside you then I don't want to.

I can't stand behind you like a good diligent slave and take your orders.

", I said not looking at him. He lifted my chin to look at him, his eyes shining with determination and warmth.

" You are what I desire and want. You don't need to change to fit, Safiya. Because you already do fit. ", he softly whispered making my heart thud within my chest.

"Lekin tayi ammi said that no one would accept me as your wife-" I started but he leaned in so close that I felt his breath fan across my face, stealing my words mid-sentence.

"Safiya, I don't care about others' opinions and you shouldn't either. Dusron ka pata nahi, aapke doubts pehle clear karte hain. Chalein room mein, madam?"

( Safiya, I don't care about others' opinions and you shouldn't either. I don't know about others' but let's clear your doubts first, shall we, madam?)

I instantly averted my eyes as his hands slid around my waist. A surprised gasp escaped my lips when he suddenly pulled me closer, so close that my chest collided with his. My breath hitched; my pulse quickened.

"Kya kar rahe hain aap?" I asked, glancing up at him, my voice a mix of annoyance and something... I couldn't name. The pit of my stomach fluttered with that stupid, familiar warmth again. Ugh, these bloody butterflies.

( What are you doing?)

"Apni pyaari si biwi se pyaar." he whispered with a teasing smile that reached his eyes.

( Loving my beautiful wife.)

His gaze lingered on my face, tracing every line, every flicker of emotion. It was intense, too much. I bit my lip nervously under his scrutiny.

"Hatiye..." I muttered, pushing him back suddenly, my cheeks burning. He chuckled, the sound rich and unbothered as if my reaction amused him.

( Move... )

I spun around, ready to leave, only to freeze when I noticed Waqas and a few of Zaviyar's men standing near the cars, eyes wide like they'd just walked into a movie scene.

They quickly looked away, awkward and terrified, when I greeted them. For a second, I was confused- why were they suddenly behaving like they'd seen a ghost? Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught his reflection in the car window. His arms crossed, expression dark, eyes locked on them.

Ah. That explained it. Napolean, sabko darate rehte hain.

( Napolean, he keeps scaring off everyone. )

"Zaviyar, kyu dara rahe hain inhe aap?" I asked under my breath without turning around, just loud enough for him to hear.

( Zaviyar, why are you scaring them?)

He didn't respond immediately, just walked to my side and gently placed his hand on my back, guiding me toward the car like I was something precious that needed shielding. He opened the back door and gestured for me to get in.

Before I could protest, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on my forehead. I froze again, that stupid blush burning its way across my cheeks.

"Dhyaan rakhna. Aur dheere drive karna. " he told the driver, his tone protective, authoritative.

( Take care. And drive slowly.)

As the car began to move, I waved at him through the window. A strange heaviness settled in my chest. It felt wrong to leave. Like some invisible thread was tugging me back to him.

Through the rearview mirror, I watched him standing tall, one hand behind his back, his face unreadable yet soft. His eyes followed the car until it disappeared from the driveway.

Maybe I was imagining it but just before we turned the corner, it looked like his faint smile slipped away.

I didn't know what was happening between us, but whatever this was I just hoped we wouldn't ruin it before it even began.

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The week went by in a blur of work, phone calls and sleepless nights.

Today was my first day off in ages and with Diwali around the corner, I finally had time to breathe.

For once, I didn't want to think about case files or clients.

I just wanted to relax... and maybe, secretly, spend some time with him.

Zaviyar had gone to a nearby village for work two days ago. The house had felt unbearably quiet without him. As much as I hated to admit it, his roz ki chik-chik ( daily nagging ), that constant bickering and bossy tone had become weirdly comforting.

The driver followed me inside, carrying the shopping bags I'd picked up. I placed them on the kitchen counter, chugged a bottle of cold water and sighed in relief. Then I went upstairs to freshen up before heading down again to make dinner.

I was craving mac n cheese like crazy but I didn't want takeout. I wanted to cook it myself. Something simple, something warm.

I was tying the end of my dupatta while hurrying down the stairs when I suddenly bumped into someone.

My balance faltered. I would've fallen if an arm hadn't wrapped around my waist, pulling me in.

My palms pressed against a firm chest and the scent that hit me was unmistakable. That familiar cologne...

I looked up slowly, my breath catching halfway.

He was back.

Zaviyar stood there, his face close, eyes locked on mine with that same unnerving intensity that made the world around me blur for a second.

"If you wanted to hug me, you could've said so," he murmured, the corner of his lips curving up in a teasing smile. "Why hurt yourself for that?"

His other hand reached up and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his touch soft but deliberate.

"Sudhar jaaye. And who said that I want to hug you, huh? I didn't miss you even one bit." I said, turning my face away quickly, my voice sharper than my heart felt.

( Behave yourself. And who said I wanted to hug you, huh?)

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he leaned closer. "Let's settle that in our room."

My eyes widened instantly. "Nope. Mujhe dinner banana hai," I said quickly, pushing his chest lightly to create some distance.

( Nope. I have to make dinner.)

He frowned slightly, clearly confused. "But dinner is already ready."

"Uhh... no, I want to eat mac n cheese. So I'm going to make some," I said, walking past him without waiting for a reply. He followed me down the stairs, silent but unmistakably present.

When I entered the kitchen, I greeted Mansi, Rida, and Meena aunty with a smile. They responded but their expressions were stiff. They gave me awkward smiles, eyes darting toward Zaviyar and then quickly away. It was like someone had them under invisible pressure.

When I turned around, the reason was obvious-Zaviyar was standing just inches away, his face calm but his gaze unreadable. He probably didn't mean to buy the way he was looking around, it felt like his gaze would burn a hole though the marbled slab.

I quickly leaned and whispered, " Don't glare at them. "

I sighed and turned back to the staff. "Is dinner ready?" I asked while pulling the grocery bag I'd bought earlier onto the counter.

"Yes, bibi-ji. It's ready. Should we serve dinner now?" Mansi asked without meeting my eyes.

"Uhm, no. I'll not eat this dinner today. If there are any leftovers, just pack them for me for lunch tomorrow. No need to waste food," I said, taking out the ingredients one by one.

"Safiya bibi, if you don't want us to serve now, can we all go to our quarters?" Meena aunty asked gently.

I nodded. "Yes, of course. Goodnight."

They smiled faintly, relieved and left the kitchen. I exhaled, finally able to relax as I gathered everything I needed-cheese, milk, flour, butter. When I reached for the all-purpose flour, I realized it was kept on the top shelf. Great!

I stood on my toes, stretching my arm, then tried a small jump yet I still couldn't reach. I was about to give up when I suddenly felt firm hands grip my waist. Before I knew it, Zaviyar had lifted me up effortlessly.

"Got it?" he asked, his voice calm, close to my ear.

I grabbed the container quickly, feeling my heartbeat go haywire. "Yeah," I murmured. He slowly lowered me back to the floor, his hands lingering for a second longer than necessary.

I smiled awkwardly before going back to the counter. I was setting up the pan when I noticed him remove his shawl and fold it neatly, hanging it on the steel bar. Then he rolled up the sleeves of his kurta, revealing his strong forearms. And dare I say it... he looked ridiculously good.

He washed his hands at the sink and came to stand beside me. "What can I do to help you, Mrs. Khan?"

I grinned and handed him the shredder and a block of cheese. "Shred this," I instructed.

He nodded, obedient and focused and for some reason that sight made my heart melt.

As he worked, I switched on the stove, added butter to the pan and watched it melt into golden liquid before sprinkling in the flour. The smell of toasted butter filled the kitchen.

I glanced sideways. His hair kept falling over his eyes as he worked, and it was irritating him. Without thinking, I reached out and clipped his hair back using the cute hair clip from my hair.

He looked up with squinted eyes, clearly unimpressed.

" Much better now, and you look cute. ", he rolled his eyes.

"You do know someone could walk in and see you helping your wife in the kitchen, right?" I said, teasingly.

The memory of Riffat ammi's cutting words from last week stung me again.

"So?" he said, shredding the cheese without looking up. "Am I not supposed to help my wife?"

I smiled faintly, stirring the sauce. "Well, it is called basic decency, but around here, helping your wife is apparently a sin. Kahi aapki naak na kat jaye, Nawab sahab."

(Wouldn't want your honor to be tarnished, my lord.)

I giggled and flicked his nose playfully. His frown deepened as he looked down, noticing flour on his nose and cheek.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him dip his hand into the flour bowl. My eyes widened. "no, zaviya-"

Too late.

I shrieked, turned the stove to low and ran out of the kitchen as he followed, laughing.

"Aaahhh-mummyyy!" I yelled dramatically as I ran around the dining table.

"Nahi pakar paoge!" I shouted between laughter, dodging as he tried to cut me off from one side.

(You won't catch me!)

"Ek baar haath mein aajao, phir dikhata hoon. " he warned, eyes gleaming with determination.

(Just let me catch you once, then you'll see.)

He sneezed mid-chase, covered in a cloud of flour. I stopped briefly, clutching the sofa for balance. "Stamina kam hai tumhara. Don't disappoint me in the future," I taunted, panting but laughing.

(Your stamina is weak. Don't disappoint me in the future.)

His jaw dropped. "Kya kaha?"

(What did you just say?)

"Jo tumne suna."

(What you heard.)

He leaned forward, grinning darkly. "Sweetheart, are you questioning my masculinity?"

"Question karne ke liye masculinity honi padti hai," I shot back, unable to stop laughing.

(You need to have masculinity for me to question it.)

The expression on his face was priceless, like I'd just delivered a physical blow. He looked adorably offended. I was about to make a run for it again when suddenly his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me back against his chest.

I gasped, caught completely off guard. He grinned triumphantly before leaning down to boop my nose, leaving a white flour mark.

"Zaviyar, you sly prick!" I exclaimed, trying to wipe my face, but he just smirked and just when I thought it was over he did something which made me gasp. Without warning, he scooped me up in his arms.

"Chaliye, stamina dikhata hoon aapko," he whispered, spinning me slightly.

(Let me show you my stamina now.)

I burst out laughing, slapping his chest lightly. "You're impossible!"

I said wrapping my arms around him, to play along. But then I froze. His laughter was still there, warm and deep but mine died instantly. His arms tightened slightly around me as he noticed me go still.

He followed my gaze toward the doorway. There stood Tayi-Ammi, Nauman Uncle, and Kabir.

Oh. My. God.

"Ammi... Abbu... I think humne galat time pe entry le li," Kabir said awkwardly, scratching his neck.

(Mom... Dad... I think we entered at the wrong time.)

"Bhai, aap Fair and Handsome ke liye audition dene ka plan kar rahe hain kya?" Kabir added, trying not to laugh.

(Brother, are you auditioning for a fair and handsome cream ad?)

I turned to Zaviyar, his face had gone completely stoic, all traces of playfulness gone. His grip on me tightened instinctively, his jaw clenched.

That's when I realised our state. His face covered in flour and hair clipped with a pink, cute hair clip. My face covered in flour and in his arms. I quickly pulled my dupatta and started wiping the flour from his face, whispering, "Let me down."

He didn't move.

Nauman uncle said something under his breath and quietly walked away, Kabir trailing behind him, still chuckling. But Riffat ammi... she didn't laugh.

She just stood there, her eyes fixed on us. Her gaze was sharp, unreadable and heavy with something unspoken.

The air turned cold in seconds.

"Yeh sab kamre mein kiya karo. Tum koi mamuli insaan nahi ho, Zaviyar," she said, looking away in clear disapproval.

(Do these things in your room. You're not an ordinary man, Zaviyar.)

"I'm wsrning it again, remember your status and your name. And Safiya, you're Zaviyar Khan's wife now, not some ordinary girl. Learn to carry yourself like the wife of a Khan. You both aren't children anymore."

Her words sliced through the air like a whip.

"Apne aapko badlo. Shaadi ko abhi bohot waqt ho gaya hai. Aur Zaviyar, maine tumhe iss shaadi ko waqt dene ko kaha tha, zan mureed banne ko nahi."

(Change yourselves. It's been long enough since the marriage. And Zaviyar, I told you to give your marriage time, not to become your wife's puppet.)

With that, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the marble like an echo of disapproval.

My body stiffened. I quickly got down from his lap, my cheeks still warm with embarrassment, and walked straight into the kitchen. I didn't care if my dupatta was slipping off or my hair was messy. I just wanted to get away from all of it.

Zaviyar followed me quietly. I could feel his presence close behind, but when he tried to reach for my hand, I flicked it away harshly.

"Dur raho mujhse..." I gritted out between clenched teeth.

(Stay away from me...)

I switched off the gas stove, grabbed the pan and dumped all the pasta into the sink. The creamy mixture splattered and swirled down the drain. Then I picked up the cheese he had grated so carefully earlier and tossed it straight into the dustbin.

He stood silently at the doorway, watching me, his face expressionless but his eyes dark, unreadable.

I brushed past him and stormed out into the garden. The cool air hit my face but it didn't calm me down.

I slipped off my sandals, untied the dupatta, and threw it onto the ground. "I'm so stupid," I muttered under my breath, clutching my sandals in one hand. "Stupid to think I could be happy."

The night air was heavy, carrying the faint scent of marigolds from the boundary wall. I could feel him behind me again, close enough to sense his presence but far enough to remind me he'd always been just out of reach.

"Jao yahan se," I said sharply, not bothering to turn around.

(Go away.)

"Safiya, I'm sorry in place of amm-", he started but I cut him off.

"Shut up. Jao yahan se. Nahi toh zan mureed ban jaoge."

(Shut up. Go away, or you'll become a puppet husband like she said.)

"Safiya-"

"She just didn't want anyone to-", I raised my hand stopping him

"To what?" I turned on him, my voice rising. "Tayi Ammi was talking as if I'm some outsider! As if I don't belong here!"

My chest heaved. The anger, the humiliation, the suffocation, it all came pouring out.

"Achcha hota agar main kabhi yahan aati hi nahi. Na yahan aati, na tumse mulaqat hoti, aur na yeh shaadi hoti. Meri zindagi ki sabse badi galti ho tum, Zaviyar."

(It would've been better if I had never come here. Never met you. Never married you. You're the biggest mistake of my life, Zaviyar.)

His hand, which had been halfway raised, perhaps to reach for me but froze mid-air. He took a small step back, eyes unreadable, jaw tense. Then he just nodded, slowly.

" You noticed her words but not mine. ", he whispered.

The silence that followed was deafening. The kind that wraps around your chest and squeezes until it hurts.

"Sorry," he muttered quietly, before turning and walking away.

I watched his back as he left, each step echoing like a small heartbreak.

And for a moment, I realized something painful. He wasn't just walking away from the argument. He was walking away from us.

So, was it that easy for him? To leave?

Was I not worth explaining, worth fighting for?

This wasn't about taking my side or standing up to his family anymore.

This was about us.

That is... if there's even an us left anymore.

_______________________________________

Safiya lay on the bed, her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose as she read through a stack of client documents. Papers and files were scattered across the bed like a fortress she'd built to keep reality out.

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of paper and the faint hum of the ceiling fan. The clock on the wall showed it was almost midnight.

She didn't go for dinner or maybe she just didn't have the appetite.

A memory suddenly flickered in her mind: her mother walking into her room with fruit salad, tea, and snacks. "You'll ruin your health if you keep skipping meals," she would scold lovingly. Rabiya had always made sure her daughter's mini-fridge was stocked with frozen fruits and chocolates.

Her father, too. Always called her for dinner, always sneaking into her room with a plate if she doesn't come down. On weekends, he'd ask her mother to switch off her alarm just so she could sleep longer.

But tonight, there was no one. No warm plate of food, no soft knock on the door. Just a cold room and an emptiness that gnawed at her chest.

She was so engulfed by the thoughts, she didn't hear when someone walked in..

She shook her head and muttered, "Bhaad jaaye woh, aur bhaad mein jaaye uska khandaan."

(To hell with him, and to hell with his family.)

"Aap bhi chal rahi hain saath?" he asked suddenly, his voice calm but firm.

Safiya jolted, turning around to see Zaviyar standing near the bed, arms crossed, his usual stoic expression back in place.

"Aakhir aap bhi hamari hi hain," he said, his tone softening slightly.

(After all, you're mine too.)

She rolled her eyes, choosing silence. She gathered her papers quickly, stacking them neatly before dumping them on the couch. Then she sat on the far side, flipping through a file just to avoid looking at him.

Without warning, the file was snatched from her hands.

She gasped. "What the hell?"

Zaviyar didn't say anything. He tossed the file onto the other pile carelessly, then bent down and before she could react, his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly and placing her on the bed.

"Zaviyar!" she shouted, trying to get down.

"Chup chaap wahi baitho," he ordered, pointing at the bed.

(Sit there quietly.)

Her jaw dropped. 'Himmat toh dekho, mere upar chilla raha hai,' she thought bitterly.

(Look at the audacity, he's yelling at me now.)

Before she could argue, he turned and walked out of the room. She frowned, confused, until he returned carrying two plates covered with steel lids.

He placed them on the bed and handed her a spoon. "Have dinner first," he said, removing the lid.

Her eyes widened when she saw mac n cheese.

For a second, she didn't know what to feel-anger, guilt, or heartbreak.

"Nahi khana mujhe," she said, pushing the plate away. The food looked delicious, but her appetite was long gone.

"Thik hai. Jao, fek do," he said flatly and sat down on the other side of the bed, crossing his arms.

(Alright. Go ahead, throw it away then.)

She glared at him, grabbing her phone in irritation only for a message notification to flash across the screen.

Kabir:

? Bhabi, you need to see this ?

? I'm shocked. Aaj dinner mein bhai ki favourite dish bani thi lekin fir bhi unhone dinner nahi kiya. ?

{ text translation: Sister-in-law, you need to see this. I'm shocked. Tonight they made bhai's favourite dish for dinner, but he still didn't eat. }

_____________________________________

There was a video attached.

It showed Zaviyar sneaking into the kitchen, his phone balanced against a jar as he played something on it, maybe a recipe tutorial. He moved around the counters clumsily, fumbling with the utensils like a man far out of his element.

I watched him bend down to get something from the lower cabinet, only to thud his head against the kitchen isle. I winced.

Then came the flour incident. He poured far too much into the pan, paused, and tried scooping it back out with a spoon.

The sight almost made me laugh through the tightness in my chest. He clumsily cut the capsicum too uneven little bits of red and green.

Looking at the pasta now, it was obvious he had no idea what he was doing.

But then my heart dropped.

He reached for the pan and suddenly jerked his hand back, shrieking silently in pain.

The phone camera caught him clutching his wrist, squeezing his eyes shut as he groaned.

He ran to the sink, stuck his hand under cold water and then, fumblingly, applied ointmentt before going back to plate the dish like nothing happened.

The video ended.

I looked up, the screen still glowing in my trembling hands. My eyes drifted to him - sitting quietly across the room, pretending to scroll through his phone. That's when I noticed it.

A small patch of flour stuck to his wrist.

And just below it, the faint red burn mark he hadn't quite managed to hide.

Something inside me broke open.

Before I knew what I was doing, I got up and stood in front of him. He looked up, confused and then I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my face into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into the fabric of his white kurta, my tears soaking through it. "I'm sorry for saying all those mean things."

He didn't move. His hands stayed frozen at his sides. I frowned and pulled back, thinking maybe he was still angry, only to see his expression utterly flustered, his voice low and hesitant.

"May I... hug you?" he asked, his tone almost reverent.

I blinked. Then nodded.

And the next second, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. One of his hands rested on my lower back while the other slowly slid up, until his fingers tangled in my hair at the nape of my neck.

He gently dug his fingertips into my scalp and I swear, every ounce of tension melted out of me.

I just... breathed.

I then quickly detached myself from him, opened the cabinet and took out the first aid kit. I started taking care of the burn. After i was finished, I grinned at him only for him to say.

"Pehle dinner karein aap," he murmured softly, patting my head. "Aur yeh rona band karein."

(Let's eat first. And stop crying now.)

I nodded, stepping back, suddenly shy at my own outburst. My cheeks were hot. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and sat down again.

"Tum nahi khaoge?" I asked, looking at him.

"Aapke liye banaya hai," he replied simply. (I made it for you.)

"Haan, aap chahein toh thoda khila sakti hai ," he teased, so i handed him my plate.

He looked at it once, then up at me, his eyes steady. "Apne haathon se," he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

( If you want then I could eat....From your hands.)

I don't know why but that one line made my cheeks burn. Still, I started feeding him between my own bites, and we fell into an easy rhythm.

When we finished, he handed the plates to Rida, who had come in with a tray of coffee. He took the two steaming cups and gestured for me to follow him.

We stepped out into the balcony. The night air was cool. The faint scent of jasmine drifted from the garden. I sat on the swing, gently rocking, while he suddenly knelt down in front of me.

My eyes widened as he took both cups from my hands, set them aside and enclosed my hands in his. His palms were warm, calloused, grounding.

"Ammi ki baaton ke liye, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "She shouldn't have said all that."

I sighed, looking away. "It's not about Tayi Ammi saying all that, Zaviyar. It's about why it's always me who's told to change. Why should I? When everyone wanted this marriage, they knew exactly who I was."

My voice shook, but I didn't stop. "Tell me, Zaviyar - why is it always the girl who has to bend, to adjust, to compromise? What have you had to give up since our marriage?"

"Why does society expect me to carry it all? To absorb your anger, your silence, your family's judgments? Why is it always me who must change for the sake of peace?"

I looked him dead in the eye.

"If you wanted a puppet who smiles, talks, and laughs only when you tell her to - then you should have married someone like that."

"I understan-"

"No, you don't!" I snapped. "Since the day we got married, I've had to handle everything - your moods, your temper, your weird traditions! Shaadi na hui, sale ho gaya. Sadu pati ke saath musibat free."

(This marriage feels less like love, more like a buy-one-get-one-free deal - a grumpy husband with that problems free )

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Safiya, maine tumse kab kaha badalne ke liye?"

(When did I ever ask you to change?)

"Haww, double standards dekho! Pehle din se bol rahe ho aap."

(Oh, really? You've been telling since day one!)

He smiled faintly, voice low. "Tum jaisi bhi ho, mujhe azeez ho. Aur khud ko badalne ki koi zarurat nahi hai. Aisi hi pyaari lagti ho."

(The way you are - that's what I love. You don't need to change. You're perfect like this.)

My breath caught. He leaned closer, his eyes glinting softly. "Mujhe nahi pata tha meri biwi sharmati bhi hai," he teased.

(Didn't know my wife could blush too.)

"Ab sunengi aap hamari baat?" he asked, and I nodded slowly.

( Now will you listen to me? )

"Ammi ne jo bhi kaha, woh unhe nahi kehna chahiye tha. Aur main baat karunga unse. " he said, his voice deep with sincerity. "Unhe sirf yeh lagta hai... mere badle hue rawaiye se log na sochein ki tum meri kamzori ban gayi ho."

(She just fears that people might think you've become my weakness.)

He paused, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.

"I have enemies, Safiya. And if they ever find out what my weakness is... they won't hesitate to use it.", His eyes softened, voice almost a whisper.

"Mujhe mohabbat se dar lagta hai, Safiya. Kyunki jisse bhi pyaar kiya, woh mujhse cheen li gayi."

(I'm afraid of love, because everything I've ever loved has been taken from me.)

My heart twisted. "Kahi tumhari zindagi mein koi dusri ladki toh nahi thi? Don't tell me you had some tragic past lover and now you're a brooding sadu who can't forget her-"

"Bas," he interrupted, pressing a finger gently to my lips. "Sach mein bohot bolti ho tum. Bilkul chup."

(Enough. You really talk too much. Quiet now.)

His touch lingered for a moment, his gaze steady and warm.

"You're the first and only woman I've ever been this close to," he said softly. "I'm yours, Safiya. I belong to you."

I blinked, heart hammering but then something caught my eye, and on instinct my hand shot up and landed across his face . "Yeh kya tha?, Zaviyar looked shocked at yeh sudden impact, then looked at me with a raised brow. (What was that?)

"Machchar tha," i said with mock seriousness, while showing him my hand that had a flattened mosquito and a little blood splattered on it. "Tumhare gaal pe."

(A mosquito. On your cheek.)

"Haww, dekho kitna khoon pee gaya!" I gasped, getting up to wash my hand with the water jug nearby.

He smirked. "Tumse toh kam hi piya hai." (It drank less blood than you do from me.)

"Kya kaha?! So you're saying I suck your blood now?"

He laughed, standing up. "Raho yahi, in machcharon ke beech."

(Stay here then - with all the mosquitoes.)

___________________________________

It was the next and for now I was headed to Zaviyar's office to get an office for myself.

I don't want to intrude in his private space but I really needed a better room where I could keep my documents and files.

Not to mention I could also keep my stuff in the office that way.

I was tired of using yeh small centre table to work on.

All this compromise and my neck was surely paying for all of it. Because it hurts like a bitch.

I walked to the top floor and I wouldn't lie I was amazed at the security there. I never knew the top floor of the west wing was guarded so much. Wow!

" Zaviyar? Is he inside? ", I asked one of the guards. All of the men in black immediately lowered their heads when I came into light. And I could see some of them looking at me with shock.

" Sorry ma'am. But i will have to ask you to leave. No one is allowed to come here. ", the guard said with a little fear in his voice.

" You said no one... I'm not just anyone, I'm Safiya Zaviyar Khan. ", I said lifting my hand showing them the gold, extravagant ring that glinted on my ring fingers. Lately I had learnt that being married to Zaviyar was in a way a free pass to do and get whatever I liked or wanted in this mansion.

" And I'm sure I have the right to go wherever I want. ", I raised my brows with a warm smile to which they nodded making me flash them a pearly smile.

" Maam but sir will be really angry... he doesn't like anyone coming here ", the guard on the other side said just when one of them was about to move away.

" But Boss doesn't really get angry at ma'am. ", the other guard reasoned and one from the corner joined in.

" If Boss finds out we didn't let ma'am get inside then he will fire us. "

" I'm just asking if he is here. ", I said staring up at them with a glare.

" Ma'am please. You are putting me in trouble... sir has strictly told us not to let anyone enter his premises. "

Just when I was about to argue back i noticed a figure emerging from within the office. It was Waqas who was sweating like he had witnessed a ghost.

" Ah.. Safiya. Aap yaha.. ", he said with a nervous laugh. He quickly adjusted his glasses and wiped the sweat on hsi forehead with a handkerchief.

" aap theek hain na, Waqas bhai?", he nodded at my question and just then a notification popped on his phone screen. And suddenly I could see the colour drain from his face, he looked pale.

( Are you okay Waqas bhai? )

" She's going to kill me... ", Waqas said with a soft cry.

" What's wrong, bhai? ", I asked with a tilt of my head. Waqas looked at me with a desperate gaze before showing me the screen on his phone. The messages on his phone almost made me giggle at his cuteness.

Apparently he had accidentally stained his wife's favourite saree while ironing it and then he hid it somewhere. But his wife found out and now was threatening to leave for her maternal home..

I bit my inner cheek to control the giggle that was about to escape my throat. I cleared my throat and looked at him.

" Gift her a new saree with the same design. And add a bouquet or anything which she really likes. ", I said with a shrug.

" But she likes hydrangeas and it's not possible to find them here...", he said looking at me with worry.

" That's for you to figure out Waqas bhai... Make her orchid earrings. She will love them... Since I do too..", I said showing him a thumbs up. He gave me a smile which told me he was grateful.

" is Zaviyar inside? ", I asked which he shook his head in no.

" Sir was here but he left for his morning workout an hour ago. You should go to the ground floor and you might see him. ", he said showing me the way to the gym.

" Thank you, bhai. "

I was about to leave and that's when he said, " Safiya wait.

", I looked back to see him jogging towards me.

I looked at him confused and that's when he said, " I don't think you should go to him right now.

He was really angry in the morning due to a client messing up and-", I cut him off with a shrug

" When is he not angry. chill, I'm used to it. ", with that I walked away. I needed to talk to him to sort out my working space. He is a bipolar bitch and no one can predict his mood swings which would give even a pregnant woman run for her money.

But lately he is warming up to me. He acts all goofy and i started noticing how clumsy he actually is.

______________________________________

Safiya quickly descended the stairs, waving of her dupatta as she hurriedly got down to have a talk with Zaviyar. She looked at the time on her phone and it was almost 7 am. She knew he would be leaving for his work soon.

She huffed out as she finally spotted Zaviyar talking to his men in the main hallway of the West wing. The hallway was really big and separated entirely from the haveli. Indeed westwing was in itself another palace which was ruled by an evil dragon.

However her eyes widened when she noticed his state. It was clear he was working out like Waqas had said.

'Pehle touh bas room mein ardhnange ghumte the, ab yahan bhi ese ghum rahe hain...'

( Before she used to roam around half naked, only in our room but now he has started going around like this everywhere. )

She saw his men standing beside him as well and they also looked a little shaken. His thunderous voice boomed in the hallway as he scolded someone through the phone.

" If he doesn't withdraw from the land, then fucking make him- ", she was shocked. How was the noble nawab sahab cursing and nobody had a problem now.

Double standards! A boy curses, it's masculinity. A girl curses, she's vulgar. She scoffed before walking towards him.

Zaviyar stood in the middle, shirtless and in only a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled while he wore a pair of glasses and signed a paper held by a man.The men around him were equally rugged wire black outfits.

He looked devilishly handsome in the morning, a few strands of his hair falling over his forehead as he leaned down to sigh the papers.

The muscles, his biceps and his back taut as he held the phone to his ear, barking orders into it.

He surely, looked quite sexy cursing like that with sweat travelling down from the corner of his face, his abz and back muscles glistening, his face and neck red from supprrsed anger.

But why is he roaming around shirtless? And his specs rest there, making him look more hot.

'Uff, kuch bhi bolo pati handsome hain. '

(uff, whatever one might say but he surely is handsome.)

She fidgeted with the end of her dupatta and slowly walked towards the couch. She watched as the veins on his neck popped as he threatened a man into his phone.

" Sheryar doesn't know who he is challenging. If that fucker messes with my land again then... "

Safiya's eyes widened when she heard his words. Then? What was that underlying threat after then which he didn't speak aloud. Would he kill him?

She shook her head trying to ignore the weird thoughts which she was getting. Their last conversation had been the previous night they spent in the balcony.

She contemplated how to call him. Should she call him by his name? Or with an endearment..she frowned at those weird thoughts in her mind and looked back. That's when she saw him leaving with Waqas heading towards the garden.

From where did Waqas even come? How many secret passages did the west wing even have? She wondered but only panicked when she watched his retreating back. She walked towards him with quick steps. Her heels clicking against the marble floor and her bangles resonating with a light jingling noise.

" Ruko... ", she said in whispers but only frowned when he didn't even stop. Safiya took quick steps to stop Zaviyar who was headed towards the exit.

( Stop )

" MR KHAN, Suniye... ", Safiya screamed a little loud making him pause. She stopped a few feet away when she saw him pause his steps. He didn't look back but only remained standing tall. Hsi men didn't need to be told to leave.

( Mr Khan, listenn-)

Without any word, they started scurrying off out of the main door. After they were out of sight, Zaviyar slowly turned around only to be taken aback by the sight of the minx in front of him.

There stood his rebellious wife, dressed in white looking like a fairy while she was no less than an evil witch.

His eyes travelled to the way her hair clipped up.

Before their marriage she always tied her hair but ever since their marriage she wears it down.

And he loves it like that. But today she had it clipped up.

So he reached out, making her eyes widen.

He opened the clip, and gently pulled it away letting her hair fall free.

" Ese rakha karo. ", he said and tossed the clip aside. She gasped as her crystal butterfly clip now lay on the floor.

( Keep it like this. )

" Lekin meri butterfly vali clip ", she cried internally before she looked at him through her lashes, blinking up at him expectantly. With a smirk, he took a few steps closer to her. As his steps approached her she unknowingly backed away.

" Stay where you are, Mrs Khan. ", he said

Safiya's breath hitched, her fingers instinctively clutching the edge of her kurta. His deep voice, that commanding baritone, rolled over her like a warning and a promise at once.

"Stay where you are, Mrs. Khan.", he said once again slowly approaching her like a predator approaching its prey. Her heart thudded against her ribs, each beat betraying the storm inside her. But her lips curved ever so slightly, stubborn as ever.

"Or what...?" she whispered, her tone deceptively steady though her throat had gone dry. She gasped when her back collided against the pillar in the hall.

Oh no...

Zaviyar's smirk deepened as he cornered her, his gaze darkening as if he could see right through her act. The distance between them suddenly felt suffocating as though the air itself bent under the weight of his presence.

He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he'd already solved. He slowly leaned down matching her eyes, his eyes boring deep into her soul, his hands still tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"Or you'll forget what you came here for," he said softly, deliberately. The corner of his lips lifted up into a vicious smirk. Her spine stiffened and her eyes widened at the double meaning in his words..

Why was he suddenly behaving all flirty when yesterday he was all lovey dovey. She couldn't let him twist this into his game again. She had stopped him for a reason. "I did come here for something," she said, her tone firmer this time. His brow arched, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "Go on."

Her breath hitched as he only leaned closer.

Not being able to look into his eyes any longer, she looked down but squealed internally when all she was met with was the perfect view of his abs and his torso.

She snapped her head to the side, murmuring, ' astagfirullah! Astagfirullah! Astagfirullah! '

Zaviyar smirked as he watched a rosy hue spread on her cheeks and her ears turning red.

She drew a deep breath, gathering her scattered thoughts. "I want my own office in the west wing," she said clearly. " A place that belongs to me. No interruptions, no interference."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Zaviyar didn't move, didn't even blink, just watched her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. Then, slowly, his lips curved again.

"Your own office," he repeated, tasting the words as if they amused him. "How... ambitious."

"It's not ambition," she shot back with fury in her eyes, trying to intimidate him. "It's a necessity.".

" So who is asking this? My wife or Advocate Safiya Shah.? ", he asked. I could make out the teasing tone in his words, he was trying to act all sarcastic.

He took one more measured step toward her.

She immediately felt the pull, the way her body betrayed her by leaning ever so slightly into that invisible thread between them.

She hitched as she could feel the warmth radiate if his skin, his cologne a mix of musk and spice only made her throat feel dry.

" Advocate Safiya Shah is your wife. "

She couldn't help but sneak a glance at his body only for her to immediately look up. She knew her husband had a shitty personality but she could deny he had an amazing body.

"In that case," he asked, his voice dropping to that dangerously smooth register, "what do I get in return?"

Her brows knitted in disbelief. "Return? Mr Khan, it's my right!", she almost stopped her feet in anger.

"Rights are not free, Safiya." He was closer now, close enough that the faint warmth of him brushed against her skin. "They are earned, Mrs khan."

Her breath quickened, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "Then what do you want?"

That was his opening. His hand lifted, not to touch her but to trail lazily against the marble wall beside her face, caging her in without a single word of threat.

His shadow swallowed her whole. His hand didn't touch but only grazed the marble wall but for some reason it was her who felt another rush of butterflies in her stomach.

'Okay, that's it safiya. Yeh shohar nhi suar hain. Create some distance nhi touh yeh shaytan tujhe kachcha chaba jayega.'

She lifted her hand to create some distance between them only to turn red when her hand landed on his chest and she could feel the steady beating of his heart. She immediately removed her hand and wiped it on her duppata..

" I want something valuable," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Something that tells me you really want it.", his voice only grew deeper and low making her panic.

Her throat tightened. She hated the way her pulse stuttered, the way he could so easily unravel her with nothing but words and proximity.

"You're impossible " she whispered, her voice trembling despite her best effort.

She turned to her right, trying to think of a way to bargain with lucifer himself.

" You were claiming to do this and that for your wife. Aur aaj saari hawa nikal gayi. ", Safiya said with a shrug.

But her eyes widened when she felt his slow breath fan against the side of her face. She could feel her hands getting clammy and sweat bead forming on her forehead at their proximity.

" Everything is fair in love, war and business.

Mm," he hummed, dipping his head ever so slightly, his breath grazing the curve of her cheek which made her weak in her knees.

" ....andd specially when you are here, willingly, standing in my way, demanding things from me.

", he said into her ear. He smirked at the way she shivered when his hot breath fanned against the shell of her ear.

"I'm not demanding- " she started but her voice faltered when his gaze flicked, briefly, fleetingly down to her lips before snapping back to her eyes.

She bit her lips, feeling weird sensations in her stomach.

She wanted to push him away and stretch her body to relieve herself from whatever agonizing yet weird feeling she was getting.

" Mene kha tha apni biwi ki har farmaish puri karunga, lekin aap touh Advocate Shah hain. Aur meri biwi ko bilkul pasand nhi ki mein kisi gair ladki se baatein karu. "

( I told you I would fulfil all my wife'e wishes but you are advocate shah. And my wife hates it when I talk to other women. )

" And still you're this close to me. Kya kahegi aapki biwi? ", she asked with a gentle laugh.

( And what will your wife say about me sticking to you. )

" Kehna kya hain. Aap hume apna shohar maan le, hum aapke khidmat mein haazir hojayenge. "

( What is there to say? If you call me husband, I'll be present before you to serve you. )

" Not so soon. ", she said crossing her arms.

"Convince me, Advocate Shah. What do I get in return for that office. " he murmured.

' Sadu! Makkhichoos! Machchar! ', he only smirked. ( Grumpy, cheap, mosquito)

" Apne client ko inn naamo se bulayengi aap? You're not convincing me, sweetheart. "

( Is that what you will call your client? )!

She looked at him with widened eyes, realising she said it out loud.

The silence that followed was electric. She could feel every inch of him without a single touch. Her back pressed into the cold wall, her fists clenched at her sides, her lips parting only to draw shallow breaths.

But he didn't touch her. Didn't close the final distance. Instead, Zaviyar lingered there, close enough to ignite a firestorm beneath her skin, yet cruel enough to withhold the flame.

Safiya pressed her palms against the cold wall behind her, forcing her breath to steady. She refused to let him win so easily. If he wanted a bargain, he would get one but on her terms.

Her chin lifted slightly, defiance sparking in her eyes. "Fine. Let's bargain then."

That caught him off guard. There she is, his rebellious wife who never steps down or lets anyone have their way with her.

Her nose scrunched as she tried to appear bold, even strong.

.she might think she looked like a lioness but all she resembled was a cute kitten looking at him with googly eyes and sharpened nails.

'Paagal hain lekin pyaari hain', he thought..

( She is a little crazy, but cute )

His brow arched, the smirk still playing on his lips but his eyes sharpening with interest. "Oh? And what could you possibly offer me, Mrs. Khan?"

Safiya tilted her head, her lashes lowering as though she were thinking but her voice came out clear, steady, and just a little taunting. "Not everything has to be paid with... whatever you're hinting at."

He chuckled low, the sound reverberating between them. "Careful," he murmured, leaning just enough that his breath ghosted over her ear. "You make it sound like you know what I'm hinting at."

Her pulse betrayed her again, fluttering wildly, but she held her ground. "I'll help you with whatever problems you're facing to acquire that land legally. ," she said firmly. "On my own. Without your interference. And for that you give me that office."

He shook his head here he was trying to be romantic and his wife was thinking with her brain.

" Mil jayega aapko aur koi zarurat nhi kuch bhi karne ki.

From next time directly demand things, instead of asking with permission.

", he said placing his palm on my head before leaning down and placing a sound kiss on my forehead.

His demeanor changing from scary to soft suddenly.

( no need to do anything, you will get the office.

From next time directly demand things, instead of asking with permission )

" I'll go and take a jog okay," he was about to turn and walk out when she reached and held on his pinky finger.

" Ese baheer nhi jayenge aap. ", Safiya said looking at him sternly.

( You will not go out like this. )

" Dhang ke kapde pehne fir baheer jaaye. ", she said glaring at him.

( Wear decent clothes and then go out. )

" Lekin mein bas thora- ", she gestured for him to keep quiet and told one of the staff nearby to bring a shirt for him.

" Ghar mein ladkiya aur auratein ghumti hain.

Tehzeeb se rha karein. Aap meri izzat hain ", she said sternly and took the shirt from the staff member before she reached out and covered him with the tshirt like how boys cover the girls in the movies.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at his 5'6 wife trying to cover his shirtless body.

( There are girls and women in the house. Behave with decency. You are my honour. )

" Ab theek hain. ", saying that she disappeared making him wonder what had just happened. then he let out a small smile as he saw her retreating back.

( Now, it's okay )

' pagal hain lekin meri hain...'

( She's crazy but she's mine. )

______________________________________

??Authors Note??

I'm so dead tired. Constantly trying to post these long chaps on Wattpad but it's been acting up. Show some love guys, I'm trying my best to give long chaps ?? it's 4:30 exact ufff.

If you've got any queries, feel free to DM me on Instagram at @arnoirverse

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