Chapter 118: Alone with him

Sheharzaad smiled at her. "Nice meeting you, Zahra. I hope everything is fine," she said and

felt her breath hitch. She had been in the same position as hers, so she could understand

that.

On cue, the gray-eyed man appeared and stood next to Zahra—quiet eyes, void face, tall

height, sturdy chest, veiny arms.

His aura reminded her of Shehryaar, and her heart skipped a beat. One glance at Zahra, and

she saw her getting more and more tense as he stood next to her.

"Assalam alaikum," she greeted and quickly scurried away. It was suffocating for her to

stand in the presence of a man with an aura so similar to his. Eyes so similar to his.

"Wsalam," he greeted back. "And welcome to the family," he uttered, and she just passed

him a smile.

"Thank you," she whispered and walked away.

He had his sleeves folded just below his elbow, while Shehryaar was wearing a black coat.

This was the slim difference in their appearance; otherwise, their dominating aura was

almost identical.

Sitting in the car, she waited for him to return. Her fingers wrung around each other, palms

queasy, heart throbbing. She prayed he wouldn’t get a hint of what she had been doing

behind his back. She prayed he wouldn’t investigate her escape. If he did, she was done. She

was now regretting acting behind his back. Her eyes closed, and she took a deep breath. A

whistling sound of her labored breathing filled the empty vehicle.

Sheharzaad sent a prayer to the skies. She was ready to marry him at any cost now, but she

didn’t want him to know about her games.

She had messed up her life with her own hands. She had messed up badly.

There was a reason her heart was beyond her control today.

Her sixth sense was pointing toward something ominous.

The door to the car was opened by one of the servants as Shehryaar entered and sat beside

her, occupying the seat next to her.

She became utterly conscious of his presence as she fixed herself, sitting properly. Her eyes

drifted up to him, only to find his gaze already fixed upon hers. His cologne filled the car,

and she felt tingles along her body in his presence.

"Jee, kuch kaha?" she asked, unnerved by his dark eyes.

(Did you say something?)

"Uhhh..." He leaned forward and tucked a tendril of her hair behind her ear. "No," he

uttered, grasping her chin and tilting her head toward him. He stared at her face as if a

selenophile would gaze at the moon.

From one eye to the other, down to her nose, lips, cheeks, and chin held in his grasp, he

studied every feature of hers. Pulling out his first two fingers, he placed them on her lips

and slightly brushed against her parted lips.

Sheharzaad looked at him in confusion as he withdrew his fingers and kissed the spot

where her lips had been. His lips twitched into a smirk.

"I don’t think it would count as a kiss, hmm? Would it?" he asked playfully.

"I-it d-does," she stammered.

"Hmm, does it?" he hummed.

"K-kind of."

"Yes or no?"

"What if yes?"

"I will remind you what a kiss means."

Her breath hitched. "What if no?"

"Then I will feel your lips like this again."

Either way, she was cornered.

"No. It d-doesn’t count as a kiss."

He smirked. "So now I can kiss you like this until our nikkah."

She got confused. Shaking her head in denial, she ended up nodding instead.

"Wh-when is o-our n-n-n-nikkah?" she stuttered, trying to change the topic.

He grew quiet at this, his dark eyes probing into her soul.

"Are you eager?"

Once again, she was in a compromised position. Yes or no, both answers would land her in

danger, so she attempted a diplomatic response.

"J-just asking."

"I’m just asking, too. Are you eager?"

'Not at all,' her mind screamed.

His words from that night in his room, when he was drunk, began to play in her mind like

déjà vu. He had forced her to express her love for him. Given the situation, she knew what

kind of answer he expected, yet she still opted for a cautious response.

"I w-was j-just asking." Sheharzaad stuttered.

"Hmm, I see. Our nikkah will be after I’ve dealt with certain things."

"Wh-what things?" she dared to ask. She hoped, he would have let go her small escape

attempt. And those things were not related to her escape attempt. But she knew, sooner or

later, he would definitely punish her. He wasn't the one to let go things so easily. As serious

as escspe. But she prayed, he wouldn't know about the evidences she had handed over to

the FIA

"Some things, little lady," he said quietly, moving his hand to play with her earlobe.

"You are avoiding my question," she noted.

"So did you, Zaad. Didn’t you?"

She fell silent, biting her lip. She thought she had maneuvered the conversation, but she

realized she had only done so because he let her.

"Don’t be so nervous," he referred to the anxiety in her eyes.

"You know," he said, grasping her arm and, with a sudden jerk, pulled her toward him. Her

dainty hands landed on his chest. "Your nervousness draws me to you like blood draws

sharks. It’s hard for me to stay away from you when you tempt me innocently, biting your

lip, giving me secretive glances, running your tongue over them when lost in thought," he

whispered, and his fingers pulled her face closer to his as he leaned forward, brushing his

nose against hers. "I want you to be nervous when you're under me, when I take you to my

bed, when you scream and keep screaming with pleasure, and with every climax, you say, 'I

love you' to me."

His voice was no louder than a whisper, yet it shook her soul. Every syllable sank in deep,

and memories of the night he had taken her returned to her mind. Her hand, resting near

his heart, tightened around his black coat, as her chest began to heave up and down. The

trauma resurfaced, and she gulped.

Their wedding night alone was enough reason for her to avoid this marriage.