Chapter 41: Chapter 41

Her body was locked. Frozen. Her senses were numb. She was unable to feel or sense anything and when his deep breath fell on her neck that was when she realized her position. Her hands that laid on his chest immediately moved and pushed him back, creating a distance between them. She fixed her scarf around herself.

"I want to go home," she said in her raspy voice.

She still couldn't understand what came over her that she said such a thing to him. She was going to sell her body to him. But it seemed right in the moment to her. The feeling of just a thing and a rag doll was pinching her, she wanted to get rid of it.

But the cost of it was too much for her to take.

And she realized it when he had agreed.

She realized, she can't do that. Not again. Not with him. Ever again.

That night. One night. It had sowed a deep seed within the pit of her brain that she would do anything but have any sort of sexual intimacies with him. That was also one of the reasons she wanted to get rid of this marriage. Of him.

Their eyes collide for a moment and it made an electric shock jolting through her backbone. Tiny goosebumps arose. And they were gone as soon as it came. She brushed off that feeling.

His eyes. They were not the usual dark. Some sort of a feeling existed in those orbs that made her overwhelmed.

"I am going home," she rephrased her sentence and walked past him when her arm was caught in a firm grip. He looked to his right and she at her left.

"I will drop you," he said.

"No," she whispered and proceeded to remove his fingers from her arm, gently but he didn't budge. "Leave me. I can go on my own," She muttered looking at his hand encircled around his forearm.

"No. I will drop you," He said and released her hand before sauntering towards his chair and got a hold of his coat.

Her jaw clenched and she folded her arms against her chest, facing him "If you're adamant then I'm adamant too. I will go on my own,"

"Let's see who is more adamant then," He said, wearing his coat and then held her hand before leading her towards the door.

"No. I will go on my own," She tried to resist him and he stopped, "You can't stop me," He turned towards her.

"I will go on my own," She said again. Her voice getting soft.

And in that moment, he found himself drawn to her eyes, drowning in them and without even realizing he nodded.

Without saying a word, she quickly left the office leaving him alone. As soon as she was gone and was not around him anymore, he realized how she made him morph his decision as he alreay could feel an empty feeling brewing in his heart.

He wanted her.

No.

He needed her.

....

Shehryaar had already informed her that he would be going out of city for a few days to the haveli. He had to attend the wedding of his brother and had to be there a few days prior to check on arrangements. Though, in between, he had been going to haveli especially when he had came back to Dubai.

His visits used to be frequent until she came and he preferred staying here more.

He got a moment to settle down on his desk and laid his head against the headrest of his chair.

He opened a drawer and retrieved a box from the drawer. It looked old. Years old. Then he opened it, retrieving a ring from it. His eyes landing at the sparkling diamonds of it that had lost their shine over the course of years.

The ring told him tales.

Unsaid tales.

As if the ring alone hold more secrets then he was carrying in his heart.

Before a surge of emotion could hit him, he immediately fixed the ring back and held the box in his hand.

He always kept it close.

He didn't know why years later he had the urge to open that box and look at that ring again. Specifically after listening to her confrontations. Her small complaints that managed to move his heart. It reminded him of someone who years ago had wandered across the floors of haveli, across every nook and corner. Crying. Wailing. Seeking justice.

Then to invest his thoughts away, he opened his laptop and began to work but glassy grey eyes came infront his vision.

'You can do whatever you want with me,'

Her voice whispered in his ears.

A weird satisfaction had came over him when she denied him. He felt satisfied. The subtle fear that came over his heart for a moment elapsed. He didn't want her to be like the woman who still lived in his memories. The woman from his childhood. The woman whom he used to call mother. The woman he despised.

He wanted Sheharzaad to deny him. Deny him every time he would come close to her until things weren't official with them. He didn't want her to approach him. He wanted her to cower back from his physical advances. He wanted her to hesitate to his touch. No matter what he would place infront her, the money, the luxury of the whole world at her feet, he wanted her never to accept his offer.

One of the reasons, he had placed that file infront her that day. It drew him more close to her when she rejected his offer despite getting a heavy price to spend certain nights with him.

He was testing her. He desired to know that whether was she anything like her? And when he found it she wasn't, the resolute to make her his grew more.

He didn't know where it all began. He couldn't figure out a starting of it. It felt as if she had always been in his life. And as if he had been struggling his whole life just to make her his. Completely his. She became the mission of his life and he was caught in that web without even occuring this to him.

The hold on the box of the ring began to tighten as the puzzle slightly began to solve in his mind.

She is nothing but an infatuation, Shehryaar. She would be out of your mind after marriage.

The demons whispered in his mind and he believed them for the sake of his own peace.

Suddenly, her eyes again flashed in his mind and he threw that box of ring against the floor, breathing heavily. Clenching, unclenching his jaw.

The day he laid his eyes on her, he thought one fling and her grey eyes would come off of his mind. But they didn't. Rather they began to appear more and more infront his sight.

He was loosing control over himself.

His sanity. It was slowly slipping away.

And with that half insane mine he deterred to make sure that after marriage this weird infatuation with her would be over and if it didn't then he was going to make her his wife knew what it meant to be the wife of Shehryaar Haider Syed.

He would be nothing like his father.

He would never give her the same freedom that his father gave to that woman who bore him.

He would never go soft. Never be vulnerable infront her. Never love her. Never.

The boundaries he would draw around her, she would remain encaged within them until he desired. He would make sure that even the thought of another man won't knock at her mind.

He would control her. In all senses. Even her mind. Captivate her. In all senses. Even her soul.

He won't end up like his father.

He would never fall in love.

He tried to focus again but her complaining grey eyes again came infront him. He harshly closed the lid of his laptop and began to roll his fingers around his temples.

He was as helpless as she was.

His eyes closed, the thick lashes shadowed his cheekbones and a particular scene began to roll infront his vision.

FLASHBACK

Shabbir Haider Syed, Shehryaar's grandfather had gone for hunt along with some of his friends and both his sons to the jungle. The haveli was empty. The servants were sent back to the servant's quarters as there was no work to do. The children were at school. And only Shehryaar and his mother was at home. He had taken leave from school today. In his room, he was busy playing his favourite video game when through the window he saw the back door of the haveli opening.

He wondered who it could be?

When the same man whom he had seen numerous times at the haveli whenever it was quite appeared infront his vision again. He saw his mother leading him in with cautious eyes, looking left and right.

Whenever he would see that man the voice of grunts would come into his ears. As when that man would come, he would stand behind the door of his mother's room and closely pay heed to the voices coming from inside. His naive mind would always wonder what was happening behind those closed doors. He didn't tell it to anyone as his mother requested him to do so. And he never turned away the requests of his mother.

He continued playing his game when curiosity in him peeked.

Getting up from his chair, he walked all the way down to the kitchen that was closest to the back door of haveli. The door was slightly open and he peeked through the space.

That man had wrapped his arms around his mother as they both looked into each other's eyes. The man leaned down and pressed a kiss against his mother's lips. Slowly, his mother leaned in and kissed him back.

He didn't know it was right or wrong but his sixth sense told him something wrong was happening. Very wrong.

"I love you, Jaha Ara,"

"I love you too," his mother replied him back, placing her face in his chest.

"This love will destroy us, Umer. Me, you, Haider if they came to know," Jaha Ara whispered.

"Love made us do crazy things. I now realize it Jaha Ara,"

"What if they came to know.... that he.... he is,"

"Don't say this. Even walls have ears. They can get to know about our extra marital affair but not this, Jaha Ara," Umer held her arms and pulled her away from him.

"Till me last breath. This secret will go with me to my grave," She said, solemnly, "Last night, Haider told me that he loved me. He is really nice to me. He fulfil all my whims. I don't feel good about him. I can see love for me in his eyes,"

"You're standing here, in this compromised state, just because of him," Umer reminded her.

Her expressions hardened, "I know. He does not deserve me. It happened all because of him. He, his damned father,"

Shehryaar who stood there felt his heart  getting wrenched seeing his mother talking so rudely about his father and grandfather. Always, he had seen his father showering love at his mother then why was she talking like that about him?

He was trying to hear conversation carefully and fix two and two when he saw the horrendous scene unfolding.

His mother in the arms of that man. They both slightly undressed.

As they both made love to each other. Against the counter of the kitchen, whispering love words to each other.

Mind boggled, he stepped back and went to his room. Unable to figure out that how he was supposed to feel about it.

Was it wrong? He asked herself.

And after that those scenes became frequent for him to see.

In his dreams.

The picture played.

The voices began to whisper.

The demons were born.

After that day, he began to distance himself from everyone just to get rid of that particular scene from his mind. He once asked his grandmother about it. His grandmother told him, crystal clear, that only a husband could touch his wife. Then he gauged it was wrong. Very wrong. But he kept it to himself. He didn't want anyone to trouble his mother.

He began to go with the shooting practice with his elder brother and his grandfather. He didn't tell it to anyone. To some extent, he was able to calm the voices that whispered 24/7 in his mind.

Until the day, he again saw the similar scene unfolding.

Then the other day.

Then another day.

Since that moment, the voices never ceased. Didn't matter how hard he tried to push back  those scenes, those voices, those grunts and moans to the back of his mind but they would always return with a double intensity. And then he gave his mind another food of thought by finding satisfaction in bloodshed and gore.

To cover up the moans of his mother, he enriched his ears with the sound of screams of the victims whom he would see getting tortured. And sometimes getting a chance to install a dagger in their hearts.

Video games were long gone as a source of interest for him.

Something else got the place of it.

Flashback ends.

He stood infront a man who was half dead. Blood smeared on his face.

He was kept in one of his torture cells and Shehryaar was yet to pay him a visit. So he used the old technique and the moment he entered, he began to punch him. Breaking and cracking the bones of his skull, dislocating his jaw before fixing it back and dislocating it again.

"He will come for you," In a half dead state the man whispered to him, "You, your family stole his childhood, he would come for you," He said again but his ears wasn't registering anything.

Only one face was infront his eyes.

Her grey eyes

And one voice was in his ears.

Of her.

He hated her affecting him.

And just like a tape, the scene of that kitchen would fold infront his eyes and he would begin to throw punches at that man.

"He knows my family too," he whispered to the man.

"Yes. He does," The man said with difficulty, "If you would let me free may be I will convince him not to harm you so much,"

The rage within his chest grew but he smirked instead. From a close ally, he had came to know that this man was close to the new chief of fbi whose identity was still hidden. Shehryaar kidnapped him but he didn't utter his name.

This man was challenging him.

Oh it is going to be fun

He thought to himself and then connected the wires that were attached with his chair to a switch. Turned the switch on and the man began to wail with current. He kept doing it until his condition was enough for him to gauge that neither was he dead nor alive.

Enough of the electricity torture, he took a dagger from the torture devices and stabbed it in his hand. The man screamed loudly. Blood spurted out of it but he didn't stop here and streched the hole so one would be able to see through that pierce.

"Say his name," Shehryaar gritted.

But the man only wailed and cried. In the silent torture cell, only his screams could be heard apart from his heavy breathing.

To shut him up, as the noise was piercing his ears, he stuffed his mouth with a clothe. He wasn't interested in getting the name anymore. He just wanted to torture the man to death.

And he did so.

Making him unrecognizable.

"All the women are alike," he kept on whispering and kept on torturing him in various indescribable ways.

And once the man was dead after a long torment only then he was able to numb everything from his mind. Everything.

Just his screams and the torture scenes ran in his mind. He didn't give him an easy death

"I would never fall for you," He whispered to himself while eyeing the dead body, "but I will break you and then mold you the way I want you to be, Sheharzaad. That I promise," he breathed heavily and threw the knife before cleaning his bloodied hands with a clothe, "Your after marriage life awaits for you, Sheharzaad,"

"Khan!" He shouted and his servant came running in the cell.

"Yes sir,"

"Get rid of his dead body and bring Sheharzaad to my home,"