Chapter 169: Their wedding

A week elapsed in a blur as everyone became deeply invested in the wedding preparations.

Designers, caterers, and jewelers from around the globe were summoned. Invitations were

sent out. Time was not on their side as everything was happening so quickly. A lot of

preparations had to be done within a short span of a week.

The haveli was decorated with flowers and lights in red, pink, yellow, and blue. The

fragrance of fresh flowers had drenched the whole haveli in its scent. The west wing of the

haveli, which included Shehryaar's room, was prepared for the new couple. The dresses

were selected at the last moment, and so was the jewelry.

Sheharzaad was so anxious about the wedding that she became sick. A high fever hit her,

and she couldn't leave her bed. Every now and then, she would vomit from nervousness.

Dozens of servants were taking care of her, and a team of doctors was appointed by

Shehryaar to look after her.

The tension and excitement in the haveli were evident, as day and night it was just chaos.

Nobody could keep up with their routine given the upcoming wedding. At various times at

night, designers would show up with the dresses, so nobody had a proper sleep during

those seven days.

The wedding day at last arrived. Sheharzaad's fever had subsided, yet the weakness

remained. The nikkah was scheduled for 6 in the evening, and it was currently five. The

haveli was flooded with relatives who came to meet the family personally before heading to

the venue, which was a villa.

The haveli buzzed with voices as everyone discussed the new couple and the bride—her

appearance, how she would look. Some girls couldn't help but feel jealous, as if she were

stealing Shehryaar from them. Children played games like hide-and-seek, tag, and king-stop.

Waiters circulated, serving drinks and appetizers to the guests. Elders were engaged in

conversation, and the young ones busied themselves with playful banter.

On the other hand, while everyone seemed cheerful, Sheharzaad sat in her room as people

came in to meet her. She clutched the bedsheet tightly. The makeup artist had finished her

makeup, and now she was alone in her room. One eye was on the clock and the other on the

door. She knew they would soon come to take her to the nikkah ceremony, and her heart

wouldn’t stop trembling. She felt sick to her stomach. If not for the makeup, her pale face

would have been noticeable. Her heart drummed in her throat.

She had mentally prepared herself for this nikkah when she said "yes" to him. She had

accepted him and her fate. She was ready to be his dutiful wife when she uttered that yes.

She was aware that nikkah was sacred, and she had resolved to give her all in this

relationship. She had no other option. Every path in her life led to him, so it was better to

accept what was written in her fate than to fight it.

Fight him...

There was no chance of that...

She had given him her word.

And the word of Sheharzaad Qureshi was sacred. She always meant what she said.

Always.

When the clock struck 5:15 pm, she heard footsteps approaching. She went breathless in

seconds, little sobs emerging from the base of her throat. She knew they were coming to

take her. Her heart began to pound fast in her chest, her ribcage rising and falling with her

intense breaths.

The door to her room opened, and Dua, Ammara, and Asma entered, followed by her

grandmother and a beautician.

Dua held a white net dupatta, folded. She passed it to the beautician, who adjusted her

makeup before draping the dupatta over her head, forming a ghunghat (veil) in front of her

face.

"It's time," her grandmother said. She stood up, following them, as Ammara and Asma

helped her carry her heavy dress. They headed to a car, which drove to the venue. The drive

consisted mainly of them adjusting her appearance and asking about her health. Sheharzaad

could only nod and respond as briefly as possible because her gaze was fixed on the path

leading to Shehryaar. Her eyes didn’t blink. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, as if it wanted

to explode. Despite the air conditioner, her body was hot, and her breath caught in her

throat when they reached the location. The door was opened for her, and she was shown

the way.

The venue was flooded with guests. Security was on high alert, packed with guards. Security

personnel stood at the entrance to verify each guest's invitation. Many political and

prominent figures from the country and the underworld were present. Food wasn’t yet

served, so everyone was enjoying drinks. Sheharzaad noticed wine bottles placed at various

spots and saw political figures—those she’d seen on television passing resolutions to curb

wine consumption—enjoying drinks.

Sheharzaad wore a white lehnga with small diamonds embedded along the flares of the

dress. Her hair was tied up in a beautiful bun adorned with lilies. Her makeup was soft and

subtle, accentuating her features, especially her large grey eyes. Every eye turned toward

her as she walked through the corridors and toward the front yard where the ceremony

would take place. Everyone stopped to catch a glimpse of the bride, their mouths hanging

open in awe at her beauty and simplicity.

A special path was created for her as she walked with the other family members to her seat.

With a single glance, she saw him already seated, waiting for her. He wore a black suit, a

grey waistcoat underneath, and a white shirt. His hair was perfectly gelled back, and the

hand resting on his knee bore a ring engraved with his initial.

S

She wondered why he wasn’t wearing a traditional sherwaani.

Suits were his style, but she was certain a sherwaani would look good on him too.

He carried every outfit with grace and charm.

Just like now.

Despite his dark side, he still managed to look handsome. His piercing grey eyes locked onto

her as she approached. That look in his eyes unnerved her.

She could read his intentions.

Perhaps the night ahead would be a long one for her...