Chapter 75: Chapter 75

Healing.

She was healing.

Healing from the trauma she had been given.

What she was made to go through.

The trauma Shehryaar had given to her, now he himself was healing her.

Giving her a new life.

Reviving the perception of life she carried with her in her past self, when she was truly her own self.

Those potent feelings which she had re-evolved. That paranoia diminishing.

Yet.

The fear.

The fear of him was still there.

The decision of not living with him was still there.

The words she had sworn to herself while taking her own life, that if God gave her another life then she will definitely take a stand for her and not live with Shehryaar. Those words made her to work fast on her plans.

She will escape.

Definitely escape from him.

Will not rest until she is out from his captivity.

Her revived self told her that the consent out of her was forced.

And she could not remain bonded in a forced marriage for the rest of her life.

And these were the last days she was spending with Shehryaar.

He did not touch her or approached her for sexual means while her treatment was going on. A weak moment would often come in between their relationship where she would see him loosing a control over himself yet before he could do anything, he would stop himself.

She knew he will keep her words.

When one night, she was in the terrace, standing alone staring at the sky, she had felt someone coming from behind and trapped her between the rail and himself. The strong fragrance of the perfume told her, it was him. More so, when he nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck.

Her breathing quickened and she turned around to face him. Worry etching on her face.

Those were the initial days of her treatment and the psychiatrist had freshened her trauma so she would easily get scared of him.

He had looked in her, tracing the fear. His eyes flashing down to her chest which lifted up and down.

Looking in her eyes, he muttered, "I'll wait for you," A promise in his eye which shone with the reflection of moonlight before he placed a chaste kiss on her lips, stepped back and went away.

And after that day, he was patient. Very patient with her. Especially with the recurring nightmare she would have. Which was also one of the reasons, he dropped her to a psychiatrist who was wife of his friend, Zaroon.

Slowly, she was opening up to him. She would often tell the pain and miseries he gave her. What she felt in the cell, as tears would roll down from her eyes.

He would remain quiet and once she would be done, he would come and give her hug. Yet every time, she jerked him away, and with those disdain filled eyes she would say, 'I don't need your consolation' and leave.

She really did not.

When at first place, he was the source of her miseries.

She wanted to keep it all within her.

But her psychiatrist told her to rant it out and that too infront the person who was the source of it at first place.

And she did it.

And he listened to it, quietly.

Their relationship dynamics changed when she got the news of a dead child born to Amna and after that her situation was critical.

She lived and died every moment. And found him beside her.

She would be sitting out of Amna's room while she was in ICU and Shehryaar would be there. Knowing her, he did not give any words of consolement as such because he was aware, words won't affect her as much as actions would so he would give her his warm embrace, covering her and cocooning her in his warm shawl while her head lied against his shoulder and warm tears released out of her eyes.

Amna was admitted in an expensive hospital and she and Ahmed were not able to bear the expenses so it was Shehryaar who on Sheharzaad's request, bore their bills.

And the day, Amna got better and was out of danger was when Sheharzaad left the hospital and so did he.

Yet she would often pay Amna a visit at the hospital and afterwards ta her home, upon his permission. She noticed, he did withdraw a bit of boundaries he had drawn around her. But that didn't mean, he wasn't possessive of her.

And she could gauge the fact out when one day, they went to a mall for shopping, a man gazed twice at Sheharzaad and he had beaten him black and blue before grasping her dainty wrist in his vice like grip and led her to the car. That eyes alone, that look alone when he was beating that man and got up before turning towards her, stole her breath and she was already taking steps away from him.

Currently, she was dolled up in a black saree sitting infront of him. Her brown locks sprawled open. Diamond earrings decorated her ears as her lips were painted in the deepest shade of red. Her lashes curled up with the mascara and features accentuated with the highlighter. She did not do this make up herself. A beautician was sent to her with a dress and she did her make over. They told her that sir has called out.

After she was done, she was escorted to a vehicle that drove her to a posh restaurant and now sat infront him.

She knew he had been trying to match her gaze but whenever he would stare than a second longer in her eyes, she would look away. Constantly her fingers were rubbing against each other. Her breathing, quick and uneasy.

She had been feeling nervous. At loss of words rather and had zero appetite. She cleaned the sheen of sweat formed around her upper lips by dabbing a tissue paper and looked back at her lap.

She felt as if decades ago she had gone to a restaurant last time. The world seemed outside new and different to her.

His eyes.

Intense eyes were the reason behind her nervousness.

She thought, she would never have the ability to withstand his intense eyes.

As with a crooked smile, and thickly lashed narrowed eyes, he stared at her while sipping on his drink.

"Please don't look at me like that," She atlast uttered, looking anywhere but him.

"Like what?" his voice was thick and raspy, which made her heart skip a beat.

"Like you... like you are," she couldn't quote an example.

"Look at me,"

Dominant as ever.

She slowly raised her lashes up and matched his stare. A smirk came over his lips as he placed the glass on the table and gave her, his undivided attention.

"Now tell me little lady. How am I looking at you?"

"Like..." she matched his stare and read the look in his eyes. Reading, tracing his expressions. The meaning behind that look in his eyes.

"Like," she whispered again, indulging her soul into his eyes.

"Like you can't live without me," she said in a whisper.

He stared at her.

Keeping quiet.

That gaze lingered at her for more than a minute.

Their eyes entering a stare competition. Both waiting for each other to look away first and at the same time, were struck in the mangnificance and captivity of each other's eyes. They both shared the same color.

Yet for her, he had the most beautiful shades of grey.

But for him, there was no shade of grey existing in this entire world, which could match hers elegance.

"I can't," he uttered.

For the first time, she saw sincerity shining in those orbs.

He meant it.

She knew, he meant it.

"My heart is captivated by these eyes of yours, which so often don't look into mine when I want them to stare at me for hours. Long hours. I have lost my heart to these eyes, long ago, Sheharzaad,"

A weak moment.

It was his weak moment.

When he had let that mask waver from his eyes and spoke his heart.

Her breath constricted as the past began to pull up in her mind, "I don't want you, Shehryaar," she said as a tear escaped her eye, "I would never want you,"

"After what you did with me.... my heart won't ever believe that true love exists in this world," She sniffled. Her eyes turning glassy.

He quietened for a moment.

He was aware he had done some damage.

He had always judged womankind with the haze that had covered his mind. But after he came to know of the truth that mist alleviated, letting him to see Sheharzaad from another angle.

Her cute little antics stealing his breath.

He noticed her every moment.

Her daily routine was engraved in his mind.

How she stroked her hair from how she would set her dupatta while offering her prayers, he knew everyone.

He liked to watch her doing nothing.

And realized, she was so different.

Different from what he had perceived her to be given her kind.

Different from the perception he carried.

To him, she was the eighth wonder of the world.

Life seemed pleasant and beautiful with her.

At the same time, breathless and dark without her existence.

She had become his light.

He only left the haveli because his grandfather called her mentally ill and not fit as the daughter-in-law of the haveli. His words didn't settle well with him and for the first time he left.

Left for good.

Because one thing was rest assured, he could not live without her.

He knew, rather he had realized that he had something in his heart more than just mere obsession for her.

It was a pure feeling. Which enlightened his dark soul. Made him content.

And simultaneously that feeling wasn't letting him live because it gave birth to something within him that he never felt. That he never perceived in life. Rather, the teachings drilled in his mind, according to what he worked, he was never suppose to feel it.

It started with an uneasiness upon seeing her indulging in her past trauma and paranoia.

And slowly that uneasiness converted to heart constriction.

And eventually into a bitter feeling, which he took so long to realize.

Guilt.

He immersed in the sea of guilt of making her go through that pain.

"I can never love you,"

At this, he grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles, "My love would be enough for both of us," he uttered, staring deep in her eye and she looked away.

The dinner went quiet.

He would just stare at her with those deep eyes of his and she would only look away while taking small bites of her food.

But.

She did ask one question and this time which made him stop.

"Do you really want to know?" he just asked and she gave a small nod.

As he stared deeply in her eyes, words began to leave his mouth and told her the story of his childhood.

....

Days passed.

Sheharzaad kept on thinking about the story he uttered to her.

The prime culprit of his life, his mother.

Due to which, he always had trust issues with Sheharzaad.

As he considered all women were alike. Just like his mother.

Yet after listening to the story as a third person, she could only deduce only one person as the culprit. The culprit which all the haveli members never realized, lived among them, hidden in the dark shades.

It was never his mother who was at fault, completely.

She did have a fault yet she did not deserve this much of hatred from her own children.

It was only one man.

Who filled loathe in his mind.

For his mother.

For the womankind.

The man whose principles Shehryaar followed and whose principles were taught to him.

The man under whose shade Shehryaar grew up.

Who had morphed, manipulated and handled his young mind since a tender age.

His own grandfather, Shabbir Syed.

He was the mastermind.

Not just that, Sheharzaad deduced from his talk that the marriage of his parents was one-sided and forced upon his mother by his grandfather, whom Sheharzaad considered nothing but a mysoginistic punk.

One night, she even subtly told Shehryaar to think and re-think about the actual culprit. She could feel, sleep didn't reach him that night.

Other day, she insisted him to go to his mother's grave but he did not agree, saying he had some important work to do. Then she had held his hand and led him to the balcony, so they could stare at the sunset. The moment was awfully quiet and they both reveled in the peace.

"It was never your mother," she had whispered, breaking the silence before looking at him.

He matched her solemn gaze.

"Maybe... she loved you... more than herself... that she knew, she won't be able to face her children after being caught..." she told him and he was about to say something when she placed her index finger on his lips.

"Shhh," she shushed him, the same way he often did with her, "I'm not done yet," she uttered and noticed his lips twitching up in a smirk. He placed a kiss on her finger before holding her hand in his.

"Say," he said, "I won't stop you,"

"I know what a mother and a child connection is.... maybe a child can never understand of the potent emotions a mother has for her child.... I did not know I was pregnant ut when I---I" her voice cracked, "I came to know that my unborn child left the world without even giving me a feel of his presence, I knew how restless I got. How traumatic it was for me,"

"And if I place myself in her place, the last words she said to you, and the last look she gave to you, I know.... she loved you with her whole heart... You don't hate her... you just...just... have alots of complains with her that she could not give you the share of love you deserved. I know behind that hate there is alot of love you have for her in your heart..."

Shehryaar had kept quiet. Her words had hit him. Hard. He knew that somewhere, she was right.

Sheharzaad saw the emotions floating in his eyes as if he was in a self conflict.

She stepped on her toes and placed a kiss near his lips, "think about my words," she said, before stepping back and left him alone with his thoughts...

"I can't," she heard him

Sheharzaad just sadly smiled.

How can a child not love his mother? And how can a mother not love his child?

He was wretched...

Really, really wretched to have a childhood like that.

...

Despite realizing the real culprit behind his past, Sheharzaad never made an attempt to detach and bore the fruit of hatred between him and his grandfather. Though, somehwere she knew she had the power to do that.

Rather, she had ulterior motives.

By now she had realized that now she had Shehryaar's complete trust and exploiting the bits of trust he had in her, she was working behind his back. Rather, she was working for herself, her well being, behind his back.

He had allowed her to step out of the house whenever she wanted but she was to keep  the security along with her. She would often go to Amna's place to meet her and that was there where she met Wali.

Wali asked her to help in the case on which he was working against Shehryaar but she didn't agree. She clearly said Wali that last time, she tried helping him, she ended up locked in the dark cell and he failed to protect him. She would only give him the evidences he wanted, if he helped her first in taking her to a safe place, away from Shehryaar.

Wali agreed.

Their meetings would be conducted at Amna's place often and since it was a harmless and a normal place, she was aware that his suspicion might not land over her this time.

She would keep Wali updated about everything, she listened and saw at home. And the moment, she had realized that Sheryaar was so hopelessly in love with her, she knew it was the best moment to strike. She had told Wali about his emotional status and his attachment towards her.

By now, she was not able to gather any evidence so Wali told her to just go away from him and help them in kidnapping him.

Then he told her the whole plan to which she agreed. And now she was already counting days to go away from there and waiting for the green signal given by him.

....

That night, Shehryaar came home late from the office. She knew after having that doscussion about his mother with him, he has become quite.

Changed.

As if something had been turned off within him.

His inhumane emotions stayed on his eyes 24/7.

He found her sleeping as he after taking a shower and changing, he laid beside her.

Planting a kiss on her forehead, he whispered, "I'm sorry, little lady," Held her hand and slept.

His heart had been constricting day and night. Every moment.

With agony.

He wanted to free her of his curse.

.....

"Come, I'm here to take you, Dua," Haseeb entered in the room where Dua was kept.

By Shehryaar's orders, she was kept at a residence farthest from the haveli. She was not allowed to step out, call or meet anyone. She was basically under a house arrest.

Her days were sad.

And nights were sadder.

After confronting the truth to Shehryaar, he was relentless and showed her no mercy.

And she thought, she didn't deserve it.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Haseeb with that shine in her eyes. Listening to a familiar voice, after so many months, a tear formed in her eye.

"Haseeb," she whispered and stood up, stepping towards him.

She immediately tightly hugged him, "what took you so long?" she cried out.

He let her cry yet his posture was cold and distant. Once her tears had released from her eyes and she felt light at her chest, she detached herself away from her.

"What took you so long?" she asked again.

"I wanted the punishment to drive in the message to your mind," he told, "Shehryaar bhai had told me the whole situation and left the decision in my hand to keep you here or not,"

This sentence made the floor slip beneath her feet.

"What?" she whispered in utter disbelief.

"Yes," he responded, "now come, I'm here to take you," he held her wrist.

"Why now?" She snatched her wrist from his hand and he glared at her.

"Keep quiet, Dua," he said with utter seriousness in his voice and for a moment Dua forgot that he was the same Haseeb, "and come with me,"

"I don't want to come with you,"

And with a sudden jerk, he backed her up against a wall, holding her arm in his vice like grip, "All you need is a iron hand to get you out from your la la land. You're no ordinary woman but going to be my wife so you will just move according to my principles," Boring his eyes in her, he told her.

"You can't...c-can't force me to....abide by your rules!" she stuttered and to cover it up, she screamed at the end.

The fear slowly setting in.

This was not the same Haseeb.

"Dua, lower your voice. if I let you joke around me doesn't mean, I'll have you disrespecting me. After I came to know what you did, there is no way, I can go easy on you because," he tapped with his index finger to her temple, "I am aware how bad you can get to just reach your goal,"

"I won't marry you. Mind you with this," She told.

"You will, Dua,"

"So you will marry a girl who was prior married to a man and carried his child. Will you marry a used woman? Huh? Does it not hurt your manly ego?" She told the truth in one line so he will get away from her because frankly speaking now, he was disturbing the rthyms of  her heart.

"I was aware of it, Dua," he told and her eyes widened.

"What?"

"I've always known about your marriage but I kept quite not to tarnish your reputation and I'll still do that. And no it doesn't hurt my fake manly ego since you did not do anything wrong. Maybe a right thing in a wrong way. And if your marriage did not work out, it is fine. But what does not settle with me and still does not settle with me is what you did with Sheharzaad. Just to get your silly revenge, you made them reach at that stage where she committed suicide? Who is accountable for the innocent life lost? Huh? No. No, Dua. I know how to fix your head because this is something which I won't let go so easily and I said earlier, you're going to be my woman and you've to be according to me. You will be," he told and then held her wrist before leading her to out of the house.

"We're going to haveli. Sheharyaar Bhai had told everything to your father so he did not create a fuss at his decision and everybody else listened to his word without questions," he told as he made her settle in the car.

"I'll personally monitor you from now on," he told and then drifted the car away towards the haveli.

And Dua thought of what the coming days of her life owuld look like.

Because this was the Haseeb, she never knew.

Maybe she really needed an iron hand.

...........

She was aware that he never let his guard down.

Even while sleeping.

But one night he did sleep, peacefully.

Letting his armed and guarded mind to go in a shut off mode.

Only because he held her in his arms.

He had slept like a child, holding her close to himself.

His soft breaths falling on her face.

But this happened in only that particular night when she was there.

After that, her psychiatric sessions had began. And as promised, he gave her the time he promised to her, not coming close to her.

She knew, she was his weakness.

And she did not give up on her plan wither.

She will exploit his weakness, in such a way that he would be on his knees.

When she committed that suicide, she had determined, she would leave him.

And tonight was the night.

To pay him back what he had given her.

She got dressed up in a beautiful red silk nightdress. Its neckline deep, showing bits of her cleavage and the black bra she wore underneath. A slit in the dress revealed her creamy leg as she applied sultry makeup on her face.

Getting that injection out from her bag, she held it, staring at the liquid floating in it. Her eyes shining with an evil glint.

Relentless.

She will be relentless as he had been towards her.

She remembered, each and every moment, she spent with him and what he did with her. The torture he made her go through. And now he will suffer the same fate. Maybe with double indemnity.

As soon as she heard footsteps nearing towards the room, she hid that injection in her drawer.

That liquid tonight will enter his system, giving way to her escape.

She instantly turned towards the window, so her back faced the door.

Her heartbeat escalated as the door creaked open.

And the door shut with a thud.

Her heart pounded.

He took a step towards her.

Fast and deep.

And another step.

In her ears, like a drum.

Step after step. Making her breathing to spiral.

Sweat popping out of her forehead.

Her hands getting clammy.

She jolted when he placed his hand on her arms and massaged them. And soon, he turned her towards him as now she faced him.

"Shehryaar," she whispered.

"Sherry," he corrected.

She did not want to be abrupt to let the suspicion raise within him, so she started slow with her antics, which she knew he liked so much.

She looked away. Not matching his gaze.

"Sherry," she whispered.

"Aren't you so pretty, little lady?" he muttered, grasping her chin and bobbing her head up.

Sheharzaad just bit her lips out of shyness. His raspy voice making a knot form in her stomach.

A blush crept up on her cheeks.

"I got ready," Her voice not above a whisper, "for you," she uttered after a pause.

She could already see the desire dancing in his eyes.

Her want crowding his senses.

"I...I want to," she stepped forward towards him, "I want to give us a chance," she said and held the collar of his shirt.

"I'm ready," she stared directly in his eyes, "I'm ready for you, Shehryaar,"

And as soon as the words left her lips, she placed a kiss on his lips.

He didn't hold back. He held her slender neck, closed his eyes and kissed her passionately.

The moon witnessed the scene unfolding as the couple under its light, moaned in unision. Filling each other's embrace, letting their bodies satiate each other. Very well aware, deep down they both carried for each other an irresistibility.

....

She didn't sleep, lying beside him. Her eyes were wide open. The room was quiet and the only thing she could hear was the ticking sound of the clock.

She was waiting for that right tick.

To implement her intentions.

Her face turned towards him.

And as she had predicted, he was sleeping calmly.

Peacefully.

After stealing her breath out.

After making her reach, her climax point several times.

After making her scream like no man ever could.

She was sure, scratches from her nail would be on his muscular back.

Her one eye landed on the clock and she knew the time was upon her.

She stared back at him, placing her little hand on his face.

His eyes closed, as she caressed his face.

A weird expression coming on her face as something hit her mind.

A gloominess entering her features as her hands stroked against his stubble.

She bent forward and placed a small chaste kiss on his lips.

And then she got up, slowly got out of the comforter, wore a new set of clothes, changing out from her revealing nightdress.

And then she retrieved the little phone under the mattress, as well as the injection from her drawer, and went to washroom sneakily. Her steps as that of a thief.

"Did you inject him?"

"I am about to,"

"Fine. My men will enter within ten minutes,"

"Okay," she whispered, cutting the call.

Gathering all the determination she had and remembering all the evil that was done to her, she got out from the restroom. Pulled up the injection, pushed out the air out of it and stepped towards him.

Her hands began to shiver as she got close to him.

The needle very near to his neck yet before she could do anything, her arm was held in a vice like grip.

She panicked.

Her eyes widening only too realize that now he was directly staring at him.

"What are you doing, Sheharzaad?" he whispered, calmly.

She knew, it was do or die.

Her breathing increased and she did not look left and right, held the little knife she had in her other hand and stabbed it in his arm.

He didn't see that coming.

And before she knew it, she injected the drug into his system.

He shrieked, making her jump and lunged towards her who was moving away from her.

"I have always hated you!" she cried out with disdain, "always!"

"Sheharzaad," he stood up, coming towards her but she was cowering away from him.

"I wanted nothing but freedom from you!" Tears propelling from her eyes as she moved towards the door.

"Sheharzaaad!" his voice drawled as he tried to come close to her.

"I hate you Shehryaar Haider Syed!" She shouted and she could see him loosing hold over his senses.

The drug was working fast.

And soon enough the door to his room opened and the last thing he saw was blue eyes of Wali, armed men entering his room and Sheharzaad running out of their room before he lost his consciousness.

"Don't leave me, little lady," he whispered.