Chapter 127: Video

"Let them go," it was Shehryaar who spoke, and her face jolted up to stare at him with wide

eyes. The men, awaiting his command, immediately lowered their weapons and held the

three of them by their arms, making them stand.

They were heaving sighs of relief, taking deep breaths and continuously reciting prayers of

thankfulness.

"Leave," he said, and within seconds, the room was empty, leaving them both alone.

As the door closed, she looked at him. "Why did you stop?" she asked.

A memory.

A faint memory surfaced.

A helpless woman.

Crying. Wailing. Pleading for mercy.

To whom no one listened.

Looking up at the skies, joining her hands, asking God to save her.

Yet God didn’t descend to save her despite her state.

And then, her lifeless body hanging from the ceiling.

With her children to witness it.

That helpless woman often paid visits to his mind, sparking the faint embers of humanity

within him.

The look she had while looking up at the skies brewed up that faint memory…

"Who is Hannan to you?" he asked.

"He… is a friend. He helped me rent a house in Multan where I could stay after… running

from you… and he also helped me… get a customer for my house," she told him obligingly.

"How deep was your relationship with him?"

The colors from her face slowly evaporated as she recalled one certain incident that had

occurred in that dark alley the night before, under the moon, just the two of them.

Holding hands.

Increased breaths.

Looking into each other's eyes.

"I love you, Sheharzaad,"

His murmur was still fresh in her ears as he slowly descended his lips toward hers. Before

he could place them, she pushed him, but he held her hand and embraced her in a hug.

"I'm aware you need comfort," his mutter began to crawl in her ears, but she pushed him

again, shaking her head in denial.

She was able to deduce that Hannan had feelings for her, given how dedicated he was to

helping her and freeing her from Shehryaar. There were certain moments when his

sweetness and dedication melted her heart. And last night, it was one of those weak

moments in her life where she let him express his love openly and allowed him to hold her

hand.

It was just a moment of weakness for her.

Not love.

The sweet murmurs he whispered near her ear calmed her and brought a smile to her lips.

At last, there was someone to appreciate her and be there for her. She wished she could love

him back. She appreciated his love, but her heart—she knew—was not ready to plant that

seed yet.

He let her hug him, and she slightly wrapped her arms around him, a smile of appreciation

forming on her lips.

Unaware of the video being made of them.

"He is… just a friend," she told him.

"We will see, Sheharzaad," he said, and unknowingly, a shiver ran down her spine.

Sheharzaad looked at him, and when his eyes grew intense, she was quick to avert her gaze.

She realized she was in deep trouble now. Sooner or later, he would find out about the

incident from last night. Between her and Hannan. And Shehryaar would kill her—or worse,

make her go through a situation where she would wish for death. Something told her that

he was still unaware of the incident. It gave her momentary relief and, at the same time,

filled her with terror and fear.

Her mind went back to the night when Hannan stood in her backyard. She asked him in

hushed breaths what he was doing there. But he didn’t respond. He kept looking at her with

a weird emotion. An emotion he had never shown her before. Something odd. New. Yet

solemn.

She was scared. Really scared. All she could think about was Shehryaar. He constantly ran in

the back of her mind. Her paranoia made her feel that Shehryaar would show up from

somewhere.

Hannan stepped closer to her, and she felt danger bells ringing in her ears.

She tried to take a step back, but he reached out his hand toward her. Sheharzaad was

confused. Her gaze lingered between his hand and his face.

He pleaded. Pleaded for her to take his hand. And she stepped forward, taking his hand. His

demeanor told her that he really needed her. And she wanted to give him comfort, given all

the efforts he had made for her.

And she didn’t realize when she was enveloped in a hug. A tight hug. As if he wouldn’t let

her go. As if her embrace gave him solace. Peace. Peace he had been seeking but couldn’t

find, except in her arms. And she let him convey himself through that hug. She didn’t move.

She didn’t step back. She knew he had feelings for her. But he never expressed it. Tonight, it

felt like his weak moment, and that made him express his feelings to her. This hug was

enough to tell her what he felt about her. And to what intensity. Sheharzaad could feel the

danger bells ringing in her ears. But if her friend needed her, she wouldn’t pay heed to those

danger bells. She would do anything for her people.

Hannan, after a few moments, stepped back and looked at her. And he confessed his

feelings.

Sheharzaad’s eyes fixed back on Shehryaar’s grey eyes as her trance broke. Those eyes

spoke of destruction. Not anyone else’s destruction. Rather hers. And what could be worse

than being destroyed at the hands of the mafia don—the feared mafia don—whom people

feared to the extent that they would commit suicide rather than face death at his hands.

This was Shehryaar.

"I don’t know," she whispered again. She tried to assure him, but her voice sounded foreign

to her.

He nodded his head and left the cell when his phone dinged with a notification.

Getting his phone out, he saw a video received from an unknown number.