Chapter 66: Only if I let you

"Love?" Confusion danced on her face.

"Yeah, love," he said casually, scratching his stubble, as though the word meant nothing, yet

his eyes glinted with something deeper.

Something dangerous.

"D-do you th-think I'm i-in love?" she stammered, her voice breaking as she asked, her face

paling visibly.

The possibility terrified her. Not because she cared about her emotions but because she

feared what he would think. If Shehryaar believed there was someone else in her heart, he

would destroy her first and demand answers later.

Only a few days ago, he had claimed her as "his woman."

The very idea of defying him brought a chill down her spine.

"Maybe," he answered with an infuriating calmness.

Her heart raced. Panic seeped into her voice as she hurried to deny it. "Please don't think

anything like that," she pleaded, nearly breathless. "Please... I don't love anybody."

"But the way your face just sparkled when that message popped up on your phone," he

began, his tone deceptively soft as he leaned forward slightly, "and how quickly you checked

it. It seems like you have a lover."

The subtle threat hanging in his voice made her knees wobble.

"No!" she burst out, desperate to explain. "He is my brother."

A mocking smile tugged at his lips. "Last time I checked, you were your parents' only child."

"No, I didn’t mean it like that!" she said quickly, panic rising in her chest. "He is like my

brother. He is Ahmed bhai. Amna's fiancé," she explained hurriedly, her words tumbling

over each other.

He leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Hmm."

Her heart pounded in her chest, so loud she thought he might hear it. The last thing she

wanted was for him to think there was something between her and Ahmed. She feared not

for herself but for Ahmed’s safety.

"A lot of difference," he remarked after a pause, his voice chillingly calm. "A lot of difference

between 'like a brother' and 'is a brother.' Am I wrong, Sheharzaad?"

"N-no," she stammered, shaking her head. "Y-you are right." She gave him the answer he

wanted.

He sat up straight, the motion deliberate, drawing her full attention.

"Come to me, then. I want something to sink into that stubborn little mind of yours," he

uttered, his voice deceptively calm.

The command made all the life leave from her limbs. Colors flew from her face.

Tears welled up in her eyes suddenly. "Please. I don't love anyone," she beseeched.

"Come here," he ordered again, his gaze hardening as she stood frozen in place.

Her legs moved unwillingly, carrying her toward him in hesitant, tiny steps. Each step felt

heavier than the last, her fear weighing her down.

"Please," she whispered again when she was halfway to him. "He is like a brother to me. I

swear, I d-don't love anyone."

He stood up abruptly, closing the distance between them in a few swift strides. Her lashes

fluttered shut involuntarily as his towering presence loomed over her. Tears spilled from

her eyes as she felt him grip her shoulders.

"Shhh," he hushed her softly, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. His voice was cold and

detached, devoid of comfort. "Don't cry," he commanded, though his touch remained firm.

"I swear to you, I don't love him," she said again, her voice trembling as she looked into his

piercing eyes.

"I don’t like your face lighting up the way it just did now," he muttered, his thumb brushing

away a stray tear from her cheek. His touch was oddly gentle, but his tone carried a dark

warning. "Your face," he continued, his eyes locked on hers, "should brighten up only when I

want it to."

She blinked up at him, confused and helpless, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Because?" he prompted, his brows lifting expectantly as he tightened his hold on her chin.

"B-because I b-belong t-t-to y-y-you," she stuttered, barely managing the words.

When he still didn't let her go, she muttered, "Shehryaar Haider."

"Good," he said, his lips curling into a faint, cold smile. His hand moved to stroke her hair.

"That's better. I believe I don’t need to drive the lesson further. You already understand."

She just gave a subtle nod.

"Cut him off. I don't want to see you talking to him."

"Why?" The whisper escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

"Because I didn't like you smiling while texting him," he stated plainly.

"Rather I should put it this way, my Sheharzaad," his fingers stroked against her neck,

making her take a step back, "I don't want you to cut him into pieces by your own hands. So

better keep your distance from him before I make it happen. Got me?"

"Yes... yes, I g-got you. I will n-not do anything like that," she just wanted to convince him

that she agreed at that moment.

"I appreciate that, Sheharzaad," he said, his cold smile returning. He tilted her chin up

further and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

She took multiple steps back from him. "Don't do t-that please," she rubbed her hands

against her lips, trying to remove his touch.

Holding her arm, with one single jerk he propelled her towards him.

"I can do much more than that. You know, right?"

"Why are you torturing me like that?" she cried out.

"You still have the proposition."

"I would never willingly sell my body."

His thumb traced her brow. "That's good to know, Sheharzaad," he muttered under his

breath, "but don't challenge me with your stubbornness," he warned, before grasping her

jaw and kissing her again to his fill.

A slick of saliva formed when he pulled back, and she rubbed her lips against the cuff of the

shirt.

Her lips were swollen.

"Sooner or later, I will free myself of you, Shehryaar," she uttered, a tear shedding from her

eye before taking a few steps back and turning around only to leave his office.

Shehryaar stood there, watching the door for a long momnt, a dark smile playing on his lips.

"Only if I let you, Sheharzaad," he muttered under his breath.