Chapter 114: Caught

She quickly averted her gaze and looked down, breathing heavily.

Slowly, the man approached her and stood beside her. All the life evaporated from her legs.

Her heart began to pound slowly in her ears.

"You are coming with me," he told her, but she acted as if she didn't hear. "Ms. Sheharzaad,"

he uttered, and that's when she looked up at him.

"Respectfully, madam," his voice was a mutter, "you would not want the people to die here.

Come with me."

Sheharzaad fought the tears forming in her eyes and shook her head as he took out his gun

from his holster. "Please, madam."

"Please let her go," Amna came to her defense. "Please. I request you. You can take me

instead."

"Ms. Sheharzaad, you're coming with me before our boss arrives." Panicked, Sheharzaad

stood up, nodding her head.

"Please don't tell him anything," she pleaded.

"I haven't, madam. Please come with me," he said, and she followed him outside.

"Have you told him?" she asked helplessly once they were on the road. The driver was now

being taken away, still breathing, as the men left the bus and got back into another car.

Amna was with them too as the car jolted to life and began moving. They left her alone with

that man and another SUV. Another driver took over the bus, which was already moving

away.

"Not yet."

"Please, don't tell him anything," Sheharzaad joined her hands in front of him. "Please, just

keep this from him."

"It is not going to be me who tells him about this escape. It will be you. He still doesn't know.

I'm giving you some time to collect yourself, and once he comes to see you in the evening,

you have to tell him about your escape." His voice was unyielding, leaving no room for

requests or pleas. "I'm a loyal servant to the family of Shabbir Haider Syed. We all are bound

by a blood oath to serve the Syeds, so I can't assist you with this. Now come," he said,

heading towards the car.

...

By evening, she was dressed in an ankle-length black dress. Her brown hair was caught up

in a beautiful bun, with tendrils framing her face. Her eyes were embellished with kohl and

mascara, and her long lashes cast shadows on her cheeks when she looked down. Maroon

lipstick graced her lips as her big doe eyes stared back at her in the mirror. The stylists had

done their job well.

Despite the foundation on her skin, her face was pale. Despite the dark shades of makeup

around her eyes, fear still danced in them. And her lips, covered in maroon, were still

shivering.

"Madam, sir has arrived," the same man informed her. His name was Murad, and he was in

his late twenties. Murad had told her that Amna was locked up in her room, as Shehryaar

would be deciding her fate as well.

What a grave mistake she had made by running away. Sheharzaad now realized this as his

footsteps echoed in the silent air of her house. She stood up, facing him as he stopped beside

her. His quiet eyes stared at her, glancing over her from head to toe.

She tried to discern any suspicion in his eyes, to see if he was aware of her actions, but his

dark gaze gave nothing away.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb on her lips. His gaze

shifted from her eyes to her lips, which tempted him greatly.

They looked so kissable.

The lower lip was slightly plumper than the upper one. She ran her tongue over it, and they

glistened with gloss. When she bit her lip, he closed his eyes and retrieved his thumb.

He remembered his promise.

"Thank you," she muttered, responding as he focused his attention back on her.

Leaning closer, he pressed his lips against her forehead, his scent filling her senses. When he

pulled back, she stood like a statue, trembling as though someone had suppressed her voice.

"Let's go," he said, extending his hand for her to take. She looked at his hand, hesitating, her

mind consumed with thoughts of how to tell him about her escape.

He led her to the car as one of his men quickly opened the door for him. A voice caught his

attention.

He stopped, and so did she.

Her face turned pale upon seeing it was Murad who had called him out.

"An important matter needs your attention, sir," Murad informed him.

"Get into the car, Sheharzaad." His first instruction was this. Wanting to avoid Murad, she

quickly nodded, passed a pleading look to him, and was about to step inside.

"It requires madam's presence," Murad said, and his hand, which was about to release hers,

tightened around her wrist, signaling her. Her eyes widened as she stepped back to face

Shehryaar, with Murad standing to his left.

Nervousness overwhelmed her as she bit her lip and wrung her fingers together.

"Say," he said, arching his brow at Murad.

"She has something to tell you, sir," Murad replied, and his gray eyes shifted to Sheharzaad.

A tear was already escaping her eye.

"Please, could you leave us alone?" Sheharzaad turned to Murad, who looked at Shehryaar,

awaiting his orders.

"Go," he commanded, then looked blankly at Sheharzaad.

"I have s-something to t-tell you," she stammered, her voice thick with nervousness. She

was already sweating.

"I'm waiting."

Get over with it, Sheharzaad.

She repeated it in her mind.

Get over with it. Get over with it.

The words echoed in her head.

Her eyes drifted to his chest, and it felt like needles were piercing the soles of her feet.

"What did you do, Sheharzaad?" he asked. When she looked up, his expression was

unreadable.

Say it. Get over with it.

The fear, anxiety, and nervousness within her peaked, and she couldn't hold back the tears.

Quickly, she wiped them away, determined not to break down in front of him.

"Hmm?" he pressed.