Chapter 80: Bound by the ring

With hurried steps, she walked back to her room and found the guards still standing there.

She entered inside quickly and took a deep breath.

She wasn't sure if joining hands with the intelligence agency was right or not, but sitting in

vain and doing nothing would do no good to her. It was better to go down with a fight. In the

end, what was supposed to happen would happen. This was the only hope she was left with

—the only way through this darkness that would provide her the light of freedom. She knew

she was playing with fire, and there were high chances of her being burnt, but she had no

other option. She had to take the risk. She had to shake hands with the FBI, which she

believed was strong enough to bring him down.

Sheharzaad felt footsteps approaching the room, so she quickly jumped on the bed and

cocooned herself in the blanket, pretending to sleep.

The door opened and the footsteps neared her.

She knew it was him.

He approached her, and she tried to pull off the best of her acts of sleep. He leaned forward

toward her as her nose got enriched by the fragrance of his perfume.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

She felt hot breath fanning against her cheek, and tingles rose there before a kiss was placed

on her temple.

"Esci dalla mia testa." He whispered something near her ear, which she couldn't get.

(Get out of my head)

His thumb ran over her brows, "Ma ti piace mettermi alla prova, vero?" She heard him say,

and it annoyed her what language he was speaking. What surprised her the most was the

fact that he knew a whole other language.

(But you love to test me, don't you?)

"We are getting married as soon as we go back, Sheharzaad. We're getting married," he

muttered before he straightened himself. He had a surprise for this petite, beautiful lady

sleeping on this bed. He knew his little lady was pretending to sleep to avoid him. A small

smile appeared on his face. How long was she going to avoid him? He was her destiny.

Whether she accepted it or not, she was his woman. And marriage was just a formality.

At this, her heart suddenly got gripped by a jolt of anxiety.

She felt his footsteps fading away, and she assumed he collected something and walked out

of the room again. She was unknowingly holding her breath. The fear she had of him. But his

last words.

She sat up as soon as he was gone. Tears rushed to her eyes, and they landed on the ring

sitting proudly on her finger. It felt to her that her ring owned her more than she did. In a fit

of fury, she took it off and smashed it on the wall.

His promising tone playing at the back of her mind over and over.

'We will marry.'

"Nhi karni shaadi meinay!" Breathlessly, she said, "nhi karni!" Picking up one pillow after

another, she threw them away, "nhi karni! nhi karni!" Her brows drew closer in a frown,

depicting her anger and frustration.

(I don't want to marry!)

The next second, she picked the vase and banged it on the wall, followed by the jug of water.

Yet her frustration and anger weren't subsiding. The helplessness rather increased.

Hugging her knees to her chest, she began to sob helplessly while crying out her protest of

not marrying him with every hiccup. There was no one who would listen to her pleas. She

was talking to herself. She was talking to the Heavens, requesting anyone who would hear

her, to save her from this monster, who would surely crumble her remaining self-respect

after marriage. He would make her his puppet. He was already controlling her movements;

soon he would be controlling her breaths. He would make her a plaything, she feared.

"Nhi karni shaadi meinay," she whispered when her sobs died down. Her breath almost

hitched in her throat when she heard footsteps approaching the room, and the first thing

she did was dash toward the wall where she smashed the ring.

Her eyes couldn't spot it, and the footsteps were coming closer.

Panic rose within her. She was dreading everything that was going to happen soon. For him,

the ring bound her to him. It was a mark conveying to everyone to whom Sheharzaad

Quershi belonged.

Squatting down, she began to find the ring, looking here and there with worried eyes. The

doorknob turned, and her eyes jutted out.

She couldn't find the ring.

The door opened, and at the same time, she saw the ring. The next second, a black boot

stepped near it. She looked up only to find him standing there again.

She stood, looking at him while he looked around the room. His eyes moved around, from

the pillows to the pieces of glass and a crumpled-up bedsheet. He observed everything

before landing his eyes on her. She had created a ruckus in this room. He knew the reason.

She didn’t want to marry him, but there was no option for her. No one denies what he

orders. He would surely have her compliance, willingly or not. But the fear on her face was

saying a different story. She was hiding something. He could see that she had unleashed her

anger or fear, whatever she was feeling, on the non-living things of the room.

He stepped closer, and her eyes moved down to his feet. He didn't seem to notice the ring

lying just beneath his foot. Following her gaze, he looked down and saw the ring lying on the

floor.

And a look of realization made its way onto his face. There was fury and rage in his eyes. He

looked murderous. Throwing away his ring meant not accepting his suzerainty, rebelling

against his orders, claiming her denied freedom…which was surely not acceptable to the

mighty Shehryaar Fucking Sayeed