She sucked in a sharp breath that managed to reach the depth of her throat when she realized she had stopped breathing long ago. She was too scared to move that she didn't wriggle against his grasp. Her skin felt a wetness on her face so she moved her hand up and realized it was her tears.

She exhaled a shuddering breath partly due to her shivering lips.

"Shehryaar," she whispered.

He pulled away from her and gently turned her around. She was thankful the sight of Khaleda's dangling feet was away as her eyelids felt to heavy to blink or move but her thankfulness was short lived as her face came across his.

Today, she wasn't holding back from expressing her fear as she just tried to take a step away from him but something in his eyes twitched. They turned a shade of darker and instead of taking a step back, she took a step closer.

"I don't know wh-who i-i-is sh-she," her mouth opened as she spoke with difficulty.

"Please...p-p-please, believe m-me," she joined her hands infront him when moved his head to the left. Through his peripheral view he was looking at the door and her eyes followed his gaze as the door to her house wide opened and a group of armed men marched inside, holding a beaten guy with both his arms, dragging him inside. And to his left, accompanied him an old man, who walked confidently. Upon registering Shehryaar's presence, he slightly bowed his head in respect as everyone took their position. Another group of men entered and this time they held a woman.

Sheharzaad saw the scene unfolding in horror. Her throat was beating as her heart now resided there.

Her eyes suddenly widened on registering who the badly beaten guy was.

Hannan.

And the woman was, Amna.

While that old man, was the same customer who were to buy this house.

She wasn't out of this shock yet when one of his gunman headed towards Shehryaar and handed over him the same file she remembered sending to Khaleda. The file she stole from his office. As she ran her eyes around, she spotted the guy whom she saw in the post office that day to whom she had requested to send the file urgently to the address. She even witnessed the taxi driver who dropped her to the post office that day. Her eyes again moved around the room, and she felt she had seen these face before. Those were the invincible people who had infiltrated around her neighbourhood. The young guy who was famous in the colony for helping others, the street vendor, the watchman, the new shopkeeper and people at whom her suspicion won't even land that they could be working for him, were there.

"Leave her! She didn't do anything!" Sheharzaad's surprise elapsed as Amna's scream invaded her thoughts.

"Keep quiet woman," The man gritted in a low voice, who had grasped Amna, ordering her with his eyes to be disciplined under his boss's presence.

"Leave her! Please!" She pleaded while screaming.

A gasp escaped Sheharzaad's lips when a man who had caught Amna tightly slapped her to shut her up. Sheharzaad couldn't hold back and tried to run towards her when an arm was snaked around her stomach and she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Please let her go," Sheharzaad whispered urgently to him, while looking at his face, "she isn't well," And she was met with his cold stare.

A glance at Amna and Sheharzaad could tell she was hyperventilating out of dread now.

"Leave her!" Amna screamed again, "Your boss is a bastard!" she cried out and now her throat was taken in a tightened grasp.

Sheharzaad's eyes widened to the size of saucers, protruded and jutted out. Her mouth hung up in awe as she witnessed Amna's feet taken off of the ground. She was moving her limbs similar to a fish out of water.

Her helpless eyes darted towards Shehryaar in a flash.

"Please," She pleaded but he only poked his tongue against his cheek and ordered one of his men to drag a chair for him as he occupied the chair. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver case. With practiced ease, he flipped it open and selected a cigarette, then closed the case and returned it to his pocket. He placed the cigarette between his lips and flicked a match to life with his thumbnail.

The flame illuminated his chiseled features as he drew in a deep breath, the smoke curling around his face. He held the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke wafting up towards the ceiling. He exhaled slowly, a thin stream of smoke escaping his lips.

He remained indifferent to Amna's breathlessness and Sheharzaad's begging. The whole room was filled with her wails and cries. His eyes cursorily moved around and he was satisfied when he found the gazes of his men struck to the floor.

"Please, Shehryaar. Please!" Sheharzaad begged and he puffed out a smoke before arching a brow up at her, giving her the attention she so needed at that time.

"She will die. Please ask him to let her go. Please she will die," She pleaded again but he moved his eyes away and again fixed the cigarette between his lips which was grasped between his middle and forefinger.

When he didn't listen, she went on her knees and joined her hands infront him. He uncrossed his legs and stared at her. "Please, Shehryaar!" She sobbed, "please she will die. L-l-let her go. I beg you," Her pleading eyes got his attention. They were wide. Sparkling with tears and a ray of hope which he could see was diminishing as Amna's screams were alleviating. Her pouted lips that were shivering badly kept on exhaling shuddery breaths. She placed her hand on his knee and her helplessness increased.

"She will die, Shehryaar. Please let her go," She whispered, earnestly, "please," she breathed out, "please," she again said, "please,"

This was when his eyes unlatched from her and drifted toward the man who had Amna's neck in his hold. Ordering him with his eye, his eyes shifted back to Sheharzaad.

Her face immediately darted towards Amna when it was taken in a vice-like painful grip and was turned towards him.

His free hand held her face and the other held the cigarette while he was leaned towards her who was on her knees. He moved forward the cigarette towards her and with the burning side, tucked her hair away from her face. She hissed when the hot ashes fell on her skin, almost burning her.

His eyes glimmered with a dark glint as he pressed the cigar against the dainty skin of her neck making her flinch and subsequently hissed but she took what he was giving her. A red blemish was formed when the cigarette was taken away and crushed under the sole of his shoe before her throat was captivated in a grip.

The pad of his thumb exactly landed, on purpose, where he had burnt her skin as his lips descended towards her shivering ones and seized them with a kiss. Holding her throat, he pulled her up and intensely kissed her until she wasn't out of breath.

Her throat that was being tightened by his hold on one hand and on the other hand her lips that were blocked by his made her quickly breathless. She began to beat at his chest but he didn't budge and when she was at the verge of losing consciousness was when he had pulled away. A thick slick of saliva formed between their lips when he brushed his with hers for the last time.

"You told me you won't touch me u-until our n-nikkah," she whispered and noticed his lips twitching up into a smirk.

"Because there is not going to be any nikkah, Sheharzaad," he responded, seizing her breath. She didn't get the chance to process his words as his eyes shifted from hers to Hannan and the irises darkened, making her breath hitched.

She became aware, he didn't have good plans for Hannan.

"He has no fault, he j-just...h-h-h-" she stopped with a stutter, realizing the flame of anger fueling up in his eyes as in an instant they had left Hannan's beaten form and fixed upon hers.

With his eyes, set on her, he flicked first two fingers and ordered one of his men, who got the signal. And next, Sheharzaad began to hear the screams of Hannan.

Ear piercing screams.

She tried to look back but his words entered her ear, "Move your pretty little head more and I won't hesitate emptying my revolver,"

The threat.

She felt it.

Her whole body felt it.

And she almost froze. Her head remained where it was, not turning back completely to its prior position.

The groans mixed with the voices of kicks and legs. To her, it seemed someone was beating a sack of potato.

She couldn't even move her lips to beg. Only hear the voices of him being tortured and a tear escaped her eye.

Hannan wasn't at fault.

He didn't have to bear extreme assaults just for her.

He was always there to help her, at first place but here she, she was just sitting helplessly, listening to his painful groans.

She closed her eyes tightly and his face came infront her eyes. His blood smeared face.

And then his cheeky smile came which he would pass to assure her that everything would be fine. His worried and concerned voice for her at the phone calls.

Everything came crashing down in her mind.

With a deep breath, she opened her eyes again and then looked helplessly at Shehryaar.

Intertwining her fingers together, she returned to her knees from her prior sitting position and looked at him with helpless eyes, "It is... m-my fault. Y-you c-can punish me," she cleared her throat to alleviate the stutters, "you can punish me, as much as you want. He only helped me. I forced him to help him... he is not at fault. It is me who is to be punished. It is my crime. Please let these people go, Shehryaar," Her fingers tightened around each other.

His hand moved and fixed a finger underneath her chin, and cleaned her tears with his thumb, "It bothers me that you're ready to take every punishment for him,"

Her breath struck in her throat.

This wasn't the direction this conversation was supposed to go.

"No. I-"

"Shhh," the thumb that was clearing her tears, landed on her lips and she was stopped from saying anything further, "you will get your fair share of punishment, Sheharzaad. Trust me with this," he said, quietly.

Her chest began to heave up and down, intensely as she breathed deeply. Their eyes locking in a stare and with every passing second she was slightly crawling back from him.

Suddenly, Hannan's groans stopped and the sound of a body falling lifelessly on the ground hit her ears. In a flash, her head turned back and she saw Hannan lying on the ground.

Her heart began to pound loudly in her ears.

'He died'

The thought alone made her stand but before she could lurch towards him, her arm was taken in a grasp and she was turned backwards that made her head crash against his chest. Her eyes moved up to find Shehryaar holding her arm in a vice-like grip.

She hissed with pain and tried to free her arm from his grasp but he tightened the hold making the blood supply cut short. The sharp pain started and sprawled across all her arm, from her shoulder to the tips of her finger.

"Ah! Please," she winced. The fingers of her other hand tried to pry his fingers off but he didn't budge. "He might have died. Please....atleast take Hannan to a hospital, please!" she said and tried to go for Hannan again but her face darted to right as a backhand landed on her face and he was held from both of her arms.

A throbbing pain hit her cheek and she could tell her face would have been red by now.

"Say his name again. I dare you," he gritted.

And she began to sob out of guilt and vulnerability. "Please," she whispered, "wo mar jaye ga," she pleaded, "please take him to hospital," she said softly.

He will die

"Sheharzaad," he gnashed his teeth, holding her neck, "now I will personally kill him. Don't you worry," he uttered and before she could say anything, the barrel of his gun was hit against her head and she fell into his arms.

"Don't you worry, now I won't marry you, Zaad," he uttered, caressing her skin.