His forever

His forever
Sheharzaad could deduce that these two brothers were the pillars of his strength and mafia.
They were the real power. The pillars. And their grandfather was the roof that was
supported by these pillars. If they went against him, then their grandfather would be as
helpless as anyone. Because practically, he had shifted all his power and authority to these
two. And since they both had been brought up under his wing, he had inculcated all his
teachings deeply within their minds. He carved their psyche according to what he desired.
And that was the reason they both could not go against him.
Sheharzaad wondered how fortune had favored him. If their mother hadn't died, maybe he
wouldn't be carrying the same power as he did now. Maybe Shehryaar would have been a
different person. He wouldn't be as callous and barbaric as he had been with her. From
throwing her off a cliff to keeping her in the cell, maybe these things wouldn't have occurred
with her.
One question that always arose in her mind was, where was their father in all this? How
could a father let his sons turn into killing machines in front of his eyes? And Dua's response
to her question was that her father was heartbroken after their mother's death. He had
become so hopeless in life. Rather, he still was. And nobody could fight their grandfather
while he was in power. Their father even tried to remedy the teachings of their grandfather,
but the two children had already reached a dead end.
That's all their little chit-chats in the kitchen revealed to Sheharzaad.
Upon reaching the study, she knocked on the door before entering. She found him sitting in
his chair reading a book. His books were mainly related to psychology, criminology, serial
killers, and how their minds worked. They were all nonfiction. Some books were business-
related. Some were related to the human body as well, covering vital organs and the weak
points of the body. And many more along these genres, which, she thought, helped him in
his work.
She placed the cup on his table and was about to leave the room when he stopped her.
"Come here," he said, and she walked toward him.
Did she do something wrong?
She questioned herself.
He stood up, opened his drawer, and took out a phone. He held her hand, opened her palm,
and placed the device in her hand.
She was confused as she looked at the brand new phone and then at him. She remembered
asking him for a phone the other day at Dua's insistence.
"Here. Take it."
"Phone?"
"You can contact that friend of yours whenever necessary. Her number is already in it."
Sheharzaad's face brightened at that, and a smile made its way onto her lips.
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes," he kissed the crown of her head, "really."
"Thank you," she said and turned around to leave when he clasped her forearm. She
frowned, looking at him.
"A thank you won't suffice, little lady," he lowered his voice into a husky tone as his eyes
narrowed at hers.
She blinked innocently, not understanding the meaning behind his words, so her frown
deepened.
"Thank you... so much?" she said, more like a question.
He gave out a throaty laugh at that.
"No."
"Umm... I d-don't know—"
"A kiss," he said, and her cheeks turned red.
"Actually... I was...I," she was stepping back when he propelled her toward him, before
backing her against the table, which had her caged between him and the desk.
"I won't let you go just like that, little lady."
If possible, her face turned even redder as she stared into his deep and husky eyes. And she
could already see a desire dancing in those orbs. She could see how eager he was to hold
her, how much he was yearning for her. She felt only one kiss wouldn't be able to calm
down the thirst he had been carrying for her.
The dark and deep desire he had just for her.
Slowly, she placed a kiss on his lips. A small, chaste kiss so that the fire in those orbs would
subside.
As soon as her soft, luscious lips touched his, he felt an electrical signal jolting through his
entire being.
How much he wanted to feel her.
Wanted to touch her to his lot.
Wanted to feel her warmth.
Hold her.
Without any barriers between them.
That lust.
Unachieved lust.
That desire.
Unattained desire.
That thirst and yearning he had for her was just for her and for no one else. No one could
fulfill it.
It was her.
Just her.
Her only.
And he had realized it last night. When, on this same table, he had been drunk thinking
about her.
The irony.
Despite being his wife, she was still untouchable.
His drunken state and his heavy desires made him call a woman to fulfill his lust.
And as that woman undressed herself in front of him, approaching him, swaying her body
seductively as his drunken form stared at the scene unfolding, before that woman could
touch him, his hand had raised, and the woman was asked to leave.
He did a mistake.
Of finding someone so special as her in others.
Thinking they could satiate him.
But he realized the thirst he had was just for Sheharzaad.
His grey eyes stared back into her shy orbs.
He almost chuckled to himself.
A small chaste kiss could make her as red as a tomato.
"Only one kiss?" he said, lowering his face to her level. His eyes slightly hooded and
narrowed in a playful manner, "It is not enough."
After last night, he had realized that there was something more than just attraction or mere
obsession he had for her.
Something more.
That was just attributed to her.
Only she had that.
How his heart would swell in her presence was an indicator of that.
Sheharzaad, after listening to his words, quickly placed a kiss on his lips again, but as she
was about to pull away, she heard him say, "A little longer."
And with that, she kept her lips on him. Her hands fisting around his shirt. The nervousness
taking the best of her.
He hugged her tightly, breaking the contact between their lips, while rubbing her back.
"I won't let you leave me, Zaad," he whispered, "Ever."
And there was no suspicion in that.
He won't let her leave.