Chapter 36: Invading Her Place

She was halfway closing the door when he pushed the door open and entered her room. She

took a few steps back hurriedly, creating a safe distance between them before swiftly taking

a hold of her scarf and wrapped it around herself. She wanted to run into her room. And

lock it. But she was scared he might get into her room as well.

He stood infront of her. His eyes boring in hers. He was donning a long black coat.

Underneath, he wore black t-shirt and pants. While she was in her PJs. Her comforting

dress. The scarf which she got her hands on, was loosely hung around her head and arms.

She looked at him, fearfully. Taking a few steps away from him. He stood there as if he was

the owner of this place. And he looked at her as if he owned her too. Something about his

dark gaze was terrifying. And she was terrified. She felt her heart beating a mile a minute in

her ears. Her mind was working fast to find any way through which she could throw him

out of her house. But as if her brain had stopped functioning. All her mind was able to play

were the scenes from that night with him. Or all she could hear were alarming signals in her

ear. Danger bells. Since she was trying to figure out the reason that brought him here. She

prayed that he won't demand his money back. Or offer her something worse than his

previous offer.

"What are you doing here?" She spoke in her panic-stricken voice, her eyes looking

anywhere but him while he was busy analysing her room and then her.

"Sit," he pointed towards the chair. His voice stoic and grave.

"I will but....first get-g-get out of my house," She stammered.

He frowned.

"Are you running that pretty little tongue on me?" He lowered his tone in a threatening yet

questioning manner that made her take two more steps backwards.

His eyes gave her a penetrating look, daring her to utter something against him.

Her form got rebellious as she opened her mouth to speak something.

"I swear, I will cut it for you, rather make you cut your own tongue if you uttered as much as

a word unless I allow you to speak," he stated.

She immediately shut her mouth, now attaching herself to the wall. His serious voice

recalled her who he was.

"Sit on that chair," he pointed through his eyes.

She didn't protest anymore and sat down on the chair, her head down as her eyes gazed at

the floor. Her heart was sinking down and down thinking of the reason for which he was

here. Her mind was running a deja vu as she felt similar vibes which she felt that night.

As soon as she felt him moving towards her she tried to move back. She was about to say

not to come near her but she didn't have the courage. His threat was in the air as she quickly

shut her lips up.

His fingers find their way towards her chin as he gripped it. Lightly caressing her jawline, he

moved her head up.

Her lashes moved up and looked at him. He knew she wanted to say something given how

she was opening and closing her mouth to utter what was in her mind, yet his eyes sent her

a hidden signal and she zipped her lips again.

"Sheharzaad," He muttered while slowly caressing her chin and looking pensively in her

eyes, "that night was not enough to fulfil what I have in for you," He stated.

Her heart jumped to her throat as her eyes widened.

He analysed the change of expressions on her face. She so wanted to say something.

"I want more of you. You satiated me in a way nobody has ever could," he muttered and saw

her lips opening up again to say something yet once more she couldn't say anything.

Passing her an intense look, he uttered, "Speak,"

"I can't file you a rape case on what you did with me that night because I was involved in it

as much as you were but I swear, I swear, if you touched me again, came closer to me then I

swear I will file a rape case on you and follow it through the end. I will make you an-"

"Ah ah ah, stop there, fiesty girl," He stopped her in the middle of her sentence. "don't bluff

so much,"

She knew he was right. She was bluffing because she knew she would literally freeze and go

in a trauma if he touched her or came closer to her. Let alone filing a case against him. She

was terrified of him and only thing that deemed sane enough to her was to stay away from

him as much as possible.

"What do you want from me?!" she asked, "you took what you wanted,"

"What if I say," he said and took a pause, "I want more,"

She looked at him, horrified. Apalled. The colors rushing from her face.

"Please, don't do that," she whispered, breathlessly, "please, leave me,"

"Let's see when I'll leave you or leave you or not. That's a topic of another discussion," He

stated and dragged another chair to sit across her.

"Right now, I will address only what I'm here for," He said while sitting down, making her

pull herself back when he immediately held the arms of her chair making her shriek.

"Don't move," he uttered as he shook his head.

She stopped, taking low shallow breaths. He pulled back creating distance between them.

"Now, why did you cut my call?" he asked. His voice suddenly getting more grave and

serious getting octaves down.

She gulped, looking towards the floor.

"Eyes at me," He warned, making her look up at him.

"Now tell me,"

She was about to answer again but stopped after hearing his next words.

"Your answer should be precise and satisfactory enough. I demand obedience and respect. If

anyone steps out of line around me, they won’t have feet to step over that line next time.

And yeah, no lies. So tell me, how dare you cut my call?"

She instantly panicked, her chest rising up and down with fear. She had cut the call on

purpose, but she couldn’t tell him that. It wouldn’t settle well with him, and he would

punish her—something she didn’t want. Fear bubbled up in her, her throat constricting,

making breathing difficult. She could feel her limbs shaking, tight knots forming in her

stomach. The rush of fear made her nauseous. She was close to whimpering, but her throat

couldn’t produce a sound. A sharp pain rose from the tip of her nose. She was close to

sobbing but the fear had paralyzed her.

"Speak," he hissed while holding both her hands in his, which were now shivering badly.

Her eyes moved between the floor and him, but she couldn’t fabricate a lie due to alarm and

dread.

Such was his fear within her—instilled and engraved deep within her mind. She might not

show it to him and pull up a facade of strength, but emotionally, she feared him. She didn’t

fear anyone as much as she was scared of him.

That fear had increased by leaps and bounds after that night. He gave her deadly vibes from

day one, but she hadn’t known he was much more than she could ever imagine.

Her eyeballs kept nervously moving here and there and then back to him, but she didn’t

answer. His steely gaze made her whimper. With time, the rise and fall of her chest

increased as her breathing grew more ragged with each passing second. She was already

sweating, and the tears in her eyes were on the verge of spilling.

And the irony was, he hadn’t even uttered a word. His eyes were enough.

Helplessly, she looked down and began to sniff as the tears threatening to fall from her eyes

finally spilled over.

But he didn’t budge.

He moved his hands and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"Abhi tou meinay kuch kiya hi nahin tou ro kyun rahi ho?"

(I haven't done anything, and you're already crying?)

She didn’t answer but kept on sniffing. Her panicked mind couldn’t decipher anything. She

felt threatened, vulnerable. She felt as if, should she not satisfy him with her answer, he

would hurt her. And there was no one around to save her from him.

One look at his veiny hands reminded her of what these hands had done to her. How these

hands had moved over her body and touched those parts that were never touched like that

before.

One look at his eyes reminded her of the power these mere orbs held. How that icy,

darkened look accelerated her heartbeat to an abnormal pace. Just that look would allow

him to do whatever he wanted. She couldn’t deny him; she couldn’t muster up the courage

to do so, for his mere eyes were enough to shatter any sparks of courage.

He was dreadful. Dreadful in all aspects.

The way he talked, walked, and especially the way he looked. Just like now. She could see

him growing more impatient while waiting for her response, but her tongue was tied, as the

anticipation wouldn’t let her speak.

She looked down again, unable to withstand the building anger in his eyes.

"Look up!" he jeered, menacingly, forcing her to snap her head up. "Don’t test my patience,"

he hissed. "Why did you cut my call?"

"The doctor came. I was at the hospital with Amna," she lied.

He held her hand by the finger he had almost cut the last time.

"But you didn’t inform me? You could have, couldn’t you?" He took her injured finger in his

hand.

She became hysterical and tried to pull her hand away, but he didn’t let her.

"I thought it was urgent, so...it was out of my mind that...that you were on call, and the

doctor was...looking at me...and he asked me to—" Her voice shook badly as she made small

attempts to free her hand. Her finger was already bruised, and his intentions didn’t seem

good.

"And you did it on purpose," he cut her sentence off, looking away and pressing her

bandaged area between his thumb and forefinger.

She screamed when her already blemished finger grew more injured. She could see blood

coming from her wound as he tightly pressed it.

"Let go! Let go!" she pleaded, tears in her eyes. She tried to pull her hand, but he pressed the

bruise more before removing the bandage from her finger.

"Few more minutes," he stated nonchalantly, looking at her hysterical eyes, which moved

between her finger and his eyes.

"Please! Please! It hurts."

"I won’t until the lesson sinks into your mind," he stated, grabbing a bunch of her hair and

pulling it lightly. "You don’t ever cut off my call when I’m speaking to you."

A hiccup left her lips as she cried out.

"Got me?" he asked, and she gave a small nod. He moved his thumb over the cut, making her

shriek.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she cried out.

"And if you dare to do that again, I swear to you, Sheharzaad, I’ll amputate your forearm," he

warned before releasing her hand and hair. She instantly snatched her hand away from him.

He leaned against the back of the chair, inhaling sharply while she cried, clutching her hand.

He let her cry, his eyes observing her.

"Now tell me," he spoke once her baby hiccups ceased. He placed his elbows on his knees,

leaning forward as she moved back. "Why aren’t you coming to the office?"

"I...I want to quit that job," she replied. Her voice was heavy from crying.

"With whose permission?"

"I...I don’t need anyone’s permission. I don’t want to work there anymore."