Chapter 83: The Condition

"What condition?"

“Run, Sheharzaad. Run away and hide,” his voice, deep and authoritative, echoed in her ears,

the memory of his chilling words making her heart pound even faster.

“By the end of this day, if I can’t catch you, I’ll free you by all means.”

She blinked, staring at him, unable to fully process what he was saying.

“But,” he continued, his tone dropping, each word deliberate and sharp, “if I catch you…” His

dark eyes bore into hers, the weight of his promise pressing down on her like a physical

force. “I swear, Sheharzaad, you won’t be able to save yourself from me.”

Her breath hitched, and her body trembled uncontrollably. The raw intensity in his voice

stripped her of any sense of control, leaving her feeling like prey caught in the gaze of a

predator. His lips curved into a faint smirk as he glanced at his wristwatch.

“Your time starts now. Tick tock, tick tock.”

The sound of her heels clicking against the floor as she bolted out of the room was the only

thing she could hear. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, louder than any sound around her.

Flashback ends

The room was sterile. Sheharzaad blinked against the harsh glare of the hospital tube light,

her body aching with every small movement. The soft murmur of the machines around her

and the faint hum of footsteps in the corridor were the only sounds in the otherwise still

room.

A nurse, Maria, sat on the chair by her bedside, holding a bowl of soup. Sheharzaad

obediently parted her lips for each spoonful, though the pain radiating from her jaw made

swallowing torturous.

Maria’s eyes, filled with a mix of sympathy and pity, lingered on her face as if searching for

words that might comfort her. "You'll recover soon," Maria said with an optimistic voice.

Sheharzaad's lips twitched in an attempted smile. "Thank you, but... what exactly happened

to me?"

Maria hesitated, her brows knitting as though deliberating on how much she should share.

"Your bones suffered a fracture," she finally admitted, her voice soft but firm.

Her heart sank, and before she could stop it, a single tear slipped from her eye. She blinked

rapidly, trying to hold back the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Crying

felt like admitting defeat, but the tears came anyway, each one a silent confession of her

pain.

Sheharzaad didn't want to ask more. She didn't have the heart.

"Please, I don't want to drink more," she said abruptly, pushing the bowl away. Her stomach

churned at the mere thought of food. Her throat tightened, and her chest ached with the

weight of everything she couldn’t say.

Maria sighed, placing the spoon back into the bowl. "It's good for your health," she

reasoned, though she made no move to insist further.

The room fell silent again, the air thick with unspoken words. Sheharzaad stared blankly at

the blanket covering her legs, her mind racing with questions she wasn’t sure she wanted

answers to. Finally, one slipped past her lips.

"Did he come?"

Maria looked at her, her expression shifting. "Who? Mr. Shehryaar?"

Chill

A violent chill surged through her at the mere mention of his name.

"Yes," she said, her voice small.

Maria nodded solemnly. "He visited you while you were asleep."

Sheharzaad's heart raced. "Is he here? In the hospital?"

"No," Maria assured

That let her take a breath of relief.

But Maria added, "But he said he would pay you a visit tonight."

She gulped and nodded as Maria continued helping her drink the chicken broth. Her mind

flashed to the very moment that had her land in the hospital bed.

Oh, now she had learned her lesson. She had learned it very well.

Flashback

Run. Run. Run.

The mantra echoed in her head

The hotel corridors blurred past her as she ran, her footsteps loud against the marble floor.

Her chest ached, and her vision swam, but she didn’t dare stop.

Behind her, there was no sound, no indication that he was following, yet the fear persisted.

It was as if his presence was a shadow she couldn’t outrun.

The elevators were too risky; he might predict her move. Instead, she took the stairs,

descending as quickly as her legs would allow. The heavy door slammed behind her as she

burst into the lobby, her disheveled appearance drawing curious glances from other guests.

The mantra echoed in her head as she sprinted down the corridors of the grand hotel. He

wasn't following her yet still she was running like a maniac. People walked past her, gave

her a weird glance, and kept on walking.

Ignoring them, she pushed her way to the reception desk, clutching the edge for support.

"Please," she gasped, her voice barely audible over her heaving breaths. "I need to call the

police."

"Please," she gasped, breathless, "I need to call the police."

The receptionist, a woman with a name tag that read Dina, frowned at her disheveled

appearance. "May I ask why, madam?"

"I need to report something urgent," she replied, her voice hushed as her eyes darted

nervously around the room. "Please, hurry."

Dina hesitated but eventually nodded. "Let me apprise the owner first. It seems serious, and

we must follow protocol."

"Fine," Sheharzaad muttered, her nerves fraying with every passing second.

"But please be quick."

Dina picked up the phone, her voice calm and measured as she spoke to someone on the

other end. After a brief exchange, she placed the receiver down and turned back to

Sheharzaad. "May I have your name, madam?"

"Sheharzaad. Sheharzaad Qureshi," she answered. "But I’m not registered here. I came

with... with someone else. His name might be on the guest list."

Dina nodded again and made another call. This time, after a few murmured words, she

handed the receiver to Sheharzaad. "He would like to inquire personally about the matter."

Sheharzaad hesitated before pressing the phone to her ear. Her voice, frantic and shaky,

spilled out in a rush. "Please, I need help! I need—"

"Take a deep breath, Sheharzaad," came the calm, chillingly familiar voice from the other

end.