~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 12: Zara Sa
~*~*~*~*~*~
Sanam dropped her files in her hurry to get
to her supervisor's office, her thoughts centered for the moment around what
this meeting could be about. She didn't have time for this. She wanted to be
thinking about the subject that had kept her engrossed all morning, the DV hearing
scheduled for two hours later. She had spent the morning preparing. Now she had
to deal with this interruption, especially when she had been ready to slip into
her professional shoes and head out the door. Sighing deeply, she knelt down to
grab the scattered papers.
She
heard movement from down the hallway, her ears picking up the hushed
conversations of coworkers in their offices, as she gathered the papers. LSB's
office building was huge, with numerous offices spread out over a sprawling maze
of hallways. When Sanam had begun at the office, she had gotten lost many, many
times, but now the office was a second home. She blinked as a ray of sunlight caught
her right in the eye. Turning, she looked at the big windows lining one of the walls,
letting in sunlight, and hope, at the same time. She smiled softly, thinking
that it truly was a beautiful, energetic home where she could do lots of good.
"Miss Sanam, you're here!" a young
girl's voice cried out, right before Sanam heard the pattering of eager feet as
they ran to her. Sanam looked up and smiled warmly at the little girl who had knelt
down beside her and was now gathering up the papers in her little hands.
"Sarita, you're here with your
mommy?" Sanam asked, reaching out to brush back the hair that had fallen
across Sarita's face.
Sarita nodded her head, and then handed the
papers to Sanam. "You said that you were going to help me with the essay I
had to write for school," she reminded Sanam plaintively. "It has to
be done in English. Remember, you said that you would check it for me?"
she asked.
Sanam closed her eyes in chagrin, realizing
that she had forgotten that particular promise. "I'm sorry, Sarita,"
Sanam murmured, reaching out to lightly pinch a chubby cheek. "I think I
can find my red pen." She chuckled at the pout that appeared on Sarita's
face. "Leave it on my desk, and I'll check it after I come back from
court."
"Sarita! Let's go," a voice called
out sharply from the doorway of one of the offices down the hallway.
Sanam looked up. "Good morning,
Mel," Sanam called out, getting up and walking over to Sarita's mother.
"Are you here for your career counseling appointment?"
"I . . . I don't have time to talk right
now," Melina said abruptly. "Sarita, let's go."
"But, mommy, I was going to put my paper
on Miss Sanam's desk! She said she would check it for me!"
"Not now, Sari," Melina muttered. Pulling
the protesting girl down the hallway, Melina left with nary a goodbye to Sanam.
Sanam wrinkled her brow in confusion, unable
to figure out what had just happened there. Shrugging her shoulders, she began
to walk to Shaleen Malhotra's office, her thoughts again on her upcoming court
appearance and the cross examination she needed to get through.
"Shaleen, couldn't this conversation
wait?" Sanam demanded, striding into her supervisor's office. "You
know that I have to leave for court soon."
"I'm afraid you won't be going into
court, Sanam," her supervisor answered carefully, silently inviting Sanam
to take a seat across from her. The office was small, just like any of the
other offices that housed the staff at LSB. The room itself had a single desk
with three comfortable looking chairs placed around it. The table had a computer
and big stacks of files waiting to be reviewed and approved. Despite the fact
that she was one of LSB's supervisors, Shaleen Malhotra did not demand nor
expect any special treatment. And her passion for her work and her attitude was
the reason that Sanam had chosen to work at this organization.
"What do you mean?" Sanam asked, plunking
the files on the table and sitting down.
Raising a finger, silently asking for a
minute, Shaleen picked up the receiver and spoke into it. "Pammi, could
you please come in here?" Pammi was there in half a minute and standing at
their supervisor's desk. "Please take these files and look through
them," she said, fingering the folders on the desk.
When Sanam moved to protest, the other woman raised one hand, asking for some
more patience.
"You have been helping Sanam with this
case, so you already know what was planned for court today. You take lead, and Pratik will be there to
support you."
Sanam stared, her mouth falling open, as
Pammi left with her files and an apologetic glance he way. "What's going
on?" Sanam asked icily, her anger leaking through despite her efforts to
control it.
"Things have come up that require me to
pull you from the case," Shaleen began carefully.
"That is my case," Sanam protested vehemently.
"That is my client. I promised her that I would be there today. I told her
that I would have her back. I have spent the past month preparing for this
case, and I have let nothing distract me from it. Nothing." Her eyes were
deliberately wide, as if she was trying to stave off tears. Taking a deep
breath, she continued. "And you just took that case away from me so easily.
You made me break my promise. What could justify your actions, Shaleen?"
"Sanam, there have been certain rumors
that are going around," Shaleen explained, "rumors that have begun to
hurt the program."
"What does that have to do with what you
just did?" Sanam asked, leaning back and crossing her arms across her
chest in angry defiance.
"Those rumors are about you,
Sanam," Shaleen revealed after a pause.
"What?" Sanam asked, her eyes
widening when she saw the sympathy in the other woman's eyes.
"About you and your night with the Nawab.
And what that says about you."
"What night?" Sanam yelped, leaning
forward angrily. "We've never had a single night together! Believe me. I
would know if I'd spent the night with the Nawab of Bhopal."
"You were seen returning with him one
morning," Shaleen pointed out delicately, "after one of the city's
biggest storms. The Nawab left you outside your door. Remember that?"
"That night?" Sanam asked
incredulously. "That was the night we were stuck in that storm and spent
the entire time in his car! We had no choice!" Sanam protested, banging
the desk with her fist.
"I'm pretty sure that you spent last
night preparing for the hearing," Shaleen said, abruptly changing the
subject. "And all of this morning, too, right?"
Sanam nodded, confusion writ clear across her
face.
"Was your family acting strangely?" Shaleen prompted.
Sanam nodded, a sinking feeling growing
inside of her. "Abu seemed a bit stressed, and Ammi had to hush him up a
few times. But they know to leave me alone the morning before I have a court
appearance. They don't want a repeat of the last time; I threw up on Abu when
he insisted I eat something." She knew she was saying too much, but Sanam
also knew that when she stopped, she was going to hear something she definitely
wouldn't like.
"The newspapers came out with some
pretty salacious stories this morning, painting you as a scarlet woman,
Sanam," Shaleen said with difficulty. "We've been contacted by
reporters; they're all asking about you."
"But," Sanam began, unable to
breathe, the world whirling crazily around her. "Nothing happened."
"No one believes that, unfortunately,"
her supervisor responded with a sigh. "The Nawab of Bhopal has come out as
a convicted killer, practically taunting the public with that truth." Shaleen
leaned forward in chair. "Now imagine the speculation that began when
someone first whispered that this man spent the night with the daughter of an esteemed
family. With Asad Ahmed Khan's daughter. Your family is well known, and
infamous because of what happened decades ago. The reporters are digging all of
that old history up now, directed that way by some very disapproving people."
"Are you kidding me?" Sanam yelped, jumping up
and pacing to and fro across the room. "How? How the he** can this be
happening in the 21st century? I'm talking to my boss about rumors
that are hurting my reputation! And are now hurting this organization? I
haven't even seen the man for the past month! Practically since the night the
truth came out! He's avoiding me like the plague, and now suddenly there are
rumors about that innocent night? What do those rumors have to do with this
job? Why are you even talking to me about this? The people that I help don't
care." She turned and stalked back to the other woman's desk. Leaning
over, she planted her hands flat on the desk. "Those women and men, those
kids, still want me here to help them."
"You haven't seen any difference at all in their behavior? Not even today?"
her boss asked gently.
Sanam's mind flashed back to Melina and Sarita. Melina
hadn't even said hello, and she was a very courteous woman.
"You're right," Shaleen continued. "Most
of them don't care. But some do. And our funders do, as well. The private
funders. The conservative lot who use their donations as tax write offs; they
are unhappy. Especially since the Nawab is holding them hostage and forcing
them to work with him despite their aversion to . . . him. Since rumors spread
like wildfire and reach many, many ears even before newspapers publish their
stories, those disapproving many spoke with our executive director. From what I
can understand, based on the rumors, they think that you mean something to him.
And they want to hurt him any way they can."
"Mean something to him?" Sanam burst out.
"If rumors reached their ears, then why haven't they figured out we
haven't had any interaction since the truth about his past came out!"
"Well, even if whatever you had is in the past, they
think that by slighting you, they can get a little bit of their own back,"
Shaleen said morosely.
"What does that mean?" Sanam asked. "Okay,
let's say that I was still the Nawab's love. Let's forget all of the good I can
do . . . have done here. Let's focus on that. What if I am his love?"
Sanam asked, her mouth twisting bitterly, "And he gets angered by your
treatment of me? He has given a lot of money to LSB. Recently, before all of
this blew up, he promised a lot more. I told you about our conversation. If he
refuses to donate that money? What then?"
"The executive director has decided to deal with
that when the problem arises," Shaleen said on a heavy sigh. "It's
easier to think about the money already in hand, then a donation that may not
have been made anyways."
"None of what I do matters because a bunch of old
fogies want their revenge against Aahil Raza Ibrahim," Sanam said
bitterly. She clenched her fingers, trying to control the shivers that were running through her body.
She was so angry that her mind had begun to spin.
"I'm sorry, Sanam. There was a board meeting last
night, and a decision was made. I'm going to have to ask you to resign. It's
for the good of the program," Shaleen explained unhappily.
Sanam nodded, quietly getting up and moving towards the
door.
"Where are you going?" Shaleen asked, her eyes
focused on Sanam's back.
"Sarita," Sanam began, and then paused to clear
her throat. "Sarita asked me to review her essay. If she has left it on my
desk, I want to keep my promise before I leave.
I hope that is okay?" she asked, throwing a challenging glance at
her former supervisor.
Shaleen nodded silently, her eyes trained on Sanam's
retreating back. She had hurt a good person today, all for the greater good. That
was one part of her job that she did not like at all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aahil sat on the floor near his bed,
his eyes focused on his hands. These hands had grabbed at that whip, and for
the first time, he had held it. He had grabbed his father's collar and pushed
him back. And the man had stumbled. He had walked away.
Aahil Raza Ibrahim had fought back. And
he'd succeeded.
And that wasn't it. That confrontation
had been two weeks ago. When that man had returned from wherever he had gone,
Aahil had stood in front of his sisters' bedroom door. He had held the whip in
his hand, his eyes staring into his father's, daring him to raise a hand
against them ever again.
Things were going to change around here.
Things were finally going to get better. He was going to protect his sisters.
He was going to protect himself. No one would ever take his sense of self
again. The confrontation just last week flashed through his mind.
"How many times do I have to tell
you?" Aahil shouted, pushing his father bacl. "You're an old man.
You've become weak. And you will no longer hurt us. If you do, I will make you
sorry. The next time you touch any of us, I will call the police. This isn't
Bhopal. They don't know or revere you here. And then," he said, moving forward and staring into his
father's eyes from inches away, "I'll notify all the newspapers in Bhopal
about this. All of this. Your alcoholism. Your abuse. Your perversions."
"Don't get too big for your
britches," the Nawab of Bhopal growled, grabbing Aahil by the back of
his neck roughly. "You don't
seriously think that you can beat me, do you? I'm so many steps ahead of you
boy, that you don't even know what I have planned. You wait. I will make your
life hell."
"And exactly what would be the
difference between that and what I'm living through now?" Aahil asked
softly.
He was pulled from his reverie by the
sound of heavy footsteps thundering up the stairs. His brow wrinkled in
confusion, wondering who it could be at this time. He could see lights under
the doorway, and then it burst open, causing him to jump from shock.
He had seconds to take in the black
clad figures, with guns in their hands, before those hands were roughly pulling
him up.
"What's going on?" he asked,
feeling the handcuffs come around his wrists, the metal harshly cold against
his skin.
He heard a child's wail, and his eyes
swung to the door. His sisters were standing there, fear in their eyes. Nazia
was crying, while Shazia stood there, holding her hand.
"Aahil Raza Ibrahim, you are
under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used
against you . . ." The voices came
as if from a distance; the words themselves were garbled, making no sense. The
hands began to move him towards the door, the pressure inexorable.
"What's going on?" Aahil
demanded. "What did I do?!!" But there had been no answers. Not that
night.
"Aahil Bhai! Aahil bhai!" He
heard Shazia cry out, as they went past them. He turned to look at her. He
wanted to say a word of comfort, to tell her everything would be okay. But
there hadn't been a chance. He was being pushed out the door before he could
take a moment to think, to process.
" Don't leave us! Please! Aahil bhai!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Aahil bhai.
Aahil bhai?"
Aahil shot up in bed, his heart pounding rapidly in his
chest. Looking around, he realized that he was in his bed. He wasn't in that
mansion. It was now, not years ago. He was almost 30 years old, not that
15-year-old scared child. He was here, not there.
His eyes moved across the navy blues walls, and the
starkly white furniture. There was a hard sofa at one end of the room. A TV
cabinet placed under the LCD screen hanging from the wall. A king sized bed was
situated in the center of the room, its back against the wall, a blue comforter
covering its expanse of white. The closet across from the bed had mirrors for
doors, allowing him a glimpse of his face in those mirrors. He flinched from
the darkness he saw in his own eyes.
The light coming in through the doors was enough to break
through the sticky web of the nightmare. By forcing himself to think about the now,
he brought himself to the present. He wasn't stuck in that nightmare. Never
again. He took a deep breath, turning away from the mirror and from his own
darkness. He was the master of his own destiny.
The doors shut, sealing out the light and leaving the
room in darkness once more. "Aahil bhai?"
Rehan prompted softly, coming to stand on the side of the bed. "Are you
okay?"
"What is it, Rehan?" Aahil barked at him,
running a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. He
glared at him grumpily. "You know that I don't like waking up early in the
morning. Just let me sleep," he muttered, lying back down on the bed and
snuggling up to his pillow.
"Aahil bhai,"
Rehan said apologetically. "I thought you'd want to see this. I waited as
long as I could." Leaning down, he placed the newspaper on the pillow next
to Aahil's head. "I really dropped the ball on this one," he said,
clearly unhappy with himself. "I should've kept my ear to the ground. I
don't even know why I am so surprised."
"Just what are you muttering about, Rehan?"
Aahil asked, opening one reluctant eye and staring at the newspaper print in
front of him. Both eyes popped open once his mind actually processed the words
on the page. "What the heck is this?!" Aahil roared, sitting back up
in bed. His hands gripped the papers, almost tearing it in his fury. "Just
what the hell are they talking about?"
"You don't know?" Rehan asked in a surprised
tone. "Just how many nights have you spent with her?" His voice rose
on the last words, demonstrating his shock.
"None!" Aahil exclaimed. "I mean, we were
out for one night, but that one night was us being stuck in a broken down car. I'm
sure we can find someone to vouch that we were at the DV location until late
evening. And that the first thing we did at dawn the next day was to find
someone to help us fix the car. We came right back home."
"There are a lot of hours between late evening and
dawn, Aahil bhai. No one believes it
was innocent," Rehan said after a moment of silence. "And they're all
blaming her for what they think happened. This is just one newspaper. Every
paper has picked up this story, and all of Bhopal is talking about her."
He paused and then continued reluctantly. "There's one more thing."
"What more?" Aahil asked in a disgruntled tone.
"Seher just called me. Sanam was forced to resign
from her job at LSB."
Aahil groaned, furiously tugging at his hair and then
turning his fury on the newspaper, the reporters, and what those rich men had
done to his Sanam. He tore the paper into bits and pieces.
"You need to do something about it," Rehan
prompted him.
"Well, obviously," Aahil shot back.
Rehan laughed suddenly, shaking his head.
"What are you laughing about?" Aahil demanded.
"What is there to laugh about?"
"Nothing. It's funny, you know. Well, not really
funny," he backpedaled, seeing the incredulity in Aahil's face. "More
like ironic. You thought that being in her life would hurt her, but now look at
this."
"Look at what?" he asked, throwing the pieces
of the paper up in the air, and watching the pieces float down to land around
him.
"Your absence is hurting her even more, Aahil bhai. The hyenas think they can close in
while the lion is away. They don't even care that you never intended to go
back."
"They're going to pay," Aahil said grimly,
jumping out of bed and striding towards the bedroom door.
"Bhai!"
Rehan called out.
"No, Rehan, don't stop me. We have to help her. You
just said that this is my fault."
"But, bhai,"
Rehan began.
"Call the reporters. And then begin making calls to
each of the companies we have contracts with," Aahil ordered. He pulled
open the doors.
"Hui Ma!"
Lateef could be heard through the now open doors.
"Aahil!" Rehan yelled to his retreating figure.
"What?" Aahil shouted, coming back to stand at
the door.
"At least put on some clothes," Rehan said in
an exasperated tone.
Aahil looked down at his boxer-clad body, and made a face
at Rehan. "I'm glad that you continue to find things to laugh about,
Rehan," he said through gritted teeth.
"Aahil baba give me a warning next time,"
Lateef called out playfully from behind them.
"Just where were your rushing off to?" Rehan asked with a laugh.
"To save . . . Sanam," Aahil explained slowly.
"Did you have some plan in mind?" Rehan asked.
"I was going to gather the reporters and those CEOs
together and put the fear of God into them," Aahil said straight facedly.
Rehan shook his head at him. "That's fine, but do it
tomorrow. Zoya Auntie called and said that she still wanted us to come to the
party they invited us to months ago. Remember? It's their wedding anniversary
party. They tend to celebrate that in a huge way, since it took them so many
tries to finally get married."
Aahil looked at him, surprised. "Why?"
"She's hoping that maybe your presence will get the
rumormongers to back off," Rehan explained. "Maybe take this
opportunity to scare them?" he asked reflectively.
"Fine. We'll go. We'll play it that way instead,"
Aahil said grimly.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"What are you doing here?" Asad Ahmed Khan
growled angry, staring at the two men standing in front of him. "Anyone
with common sense would have realized that they were no longer invited after
what happened in your own home a month ago." He practically bit out the
words.
"I invited them, Asad," Zoya said quietly,
coming over to stand beside her husband. Reaching out a hand, she curled it
around his arm, gently squeezing it in an effort to calm him. "No matter
how much you might not like it, he can make things right. Your daughter lost
her job today. She was heartbroken when she came home today. She cried, Asad.
How often does our Sanam cry? Please let it go. Think of it as an anniversary
gift to me?"
Aahil's lips tightened, his jaw muscle twitching, when he
heard her whispered words. But he said nothing.
Smiling lovingly up into his eyes, she continued, "We've
invited some of the people who had a hand in getting her fired. We mix with the
elite of Bhopal, and they stabbed us in the backs. He is the Nawab of Bhopal. He
has the power to put the fear of God into those men or women," she said
furiously. "And he will let us know who is our enemy. Who is our
daughter's enemy."
He nodded and grudgingly gestured for the two men to
enter. "Don't make me regret letting you come in."
The two of them had been at the mansion many times, but everything
look completely different. The room had been transformed completely for the
party. The normally sedate colors had been replaced with black and red. Every
item in the living room, from the chairs, to the tables, to the napkins and
wall decorations were in one color or the other. Plants had been set up around
the perimeter of the room, creating private alcoves for the guests to use for
intimate conversations. Food and drinks had been set up in one corner of the
room. Tables had been set up around the pool for people to sit and enjoy the
delicacies.
"You're here," a woman's voice called out
gaily. The men turned to see Seher rushing towards them. "Asalaam Alaikum," she said, raising
a hand to her forehead.
Rehan smiled bashfully at her, blushing lightly at the
wink she threw his way.
"You are so cute," she said, reaching out a
hand to grab at his arm. "I've been waiting for you. Badi Ammi wants to see you."
Rehan blanched at her words. "I don't think,"
he began doubtfully.
"Rehan," Seher said warningly. "Aahil will
take care of everything out here. You get to talk to Badi Ammi. She explicitly stated that she wanted to talk to you
when you came in." She quickly pulled him away, ignoring the green cast to
his features.
"Aahil bhai,
I'll be back. We can begin then," Rehan called back, despite his own
worry. In mere seconds he was dragged away by Seher to some private corner of
the home.
Aahil was left alone, his eyes clinging for a moment to
their retreating backs. He raised an eyebrow in confusion. For a moment, he had
felt a flash of uncertainty, but no, he was the Nawab of Bhopal. He had nothing
to fear. The monster that had terrorized him had left this world. And now, he
was the biggest monster in Bhopal. It was time to face the crowd.
Adjusting his suit jacket, he turned and crashed into a
slight figure.
[YOUTUBE]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LRdYonca-Y&feature=youtu.be[/YOUTUBE]
The soft exclamation at the contact, the feel of her, the
scent that came to engulf him, gave him the clues he needed to divine how had
landed in his arms. It was Sanam Ahmed Khan. And for the moment, she was back
in his arms, his hands around her naked waist. He inhaled softly, wanting to
savor her and this sensation. He wanted this moment to last forever. And on
that thought, he closed his eyes, wanting to close the world out but for the
sensation of her in his arms.
Sanam stared up into his face, but his eyes were closed. He
was wearing black. A black suit. A black shirt. A black tie. The prince of
darkness. Was he trying to prove something to the world? But those morose
thoughts were swiftly swept away by his scent. By the warmth of his lips, so
close to hers. She inhaled his scent, the movement causing her chest to lightly
graze his.
This was the first time they had touched since their kiss.
It was the first time they had seen each other since that last confrontation.
His hold was strong, protective, so that she wouldn't fall to the floor. She
wondered suddenly what was going on through his mind now, as he held her in the
middle of a filled room, with all of those judgmental eyes fixed on them. She angled
her head to the side, her eyes landing on her parents' stricken gazes.
Jerking up into a standing position, she slowly and
steadily pushed him away. By the time they were inches apart, his eyes were
open and aware. Shaking her head at him, she turned to walk away, without
feeling the need to say a word.
She felt his hand
come out to grab her upper arm, and she closed her eyes at the feel of his warm
hand on her bare arm. She cursed Seher for convincing her to wear this
sleeveless choli lehenga in her
favorite shade of red. That direct skin to skin contact made everything so much
harder to bear. His hand slid down her arm to her wrist, and then to her hand.
She pulled lightly, refusing to turn back.
He held on, refusing to let go. It was as if his fingers
had a life of their own. They twisted slightly, causing her to gasp, but it was
enough to awaken him. Letting go, he stepped back and she walked away.
And he watched her walk away, unable to say anything. The
pain of loss was burning inside of him, eating away at what remained of his
soul, but this was a decision he had made. He would just have to learn to live
with it.
Anyone looking at him, would not have seen the turmoil
inside of his heart. His jaw muscle twitched, and his lips firmed. Grabbing a
drink from a passing waiter, he sipped it, watching the crowd mill around. He
was here to do business, not moon over the one woman he had already decided to
give up for her own good.
His eyes alighted on Ashok Mehta, one of the bigger
companies Ibrahim Corporation contracted with. He knew that their contract had
saved Mehta Industries from bankruptcy a few years ago, and the loss of that
same contract would put them right back on the brink.
Walking towards the man, he called out, "Mr. Mehta,
a word please. I've been hearing some rumors that I wanted your feedback on."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
An hour had gone by, and Aahil, soon joined by Rehan, had
worked his way through the room, warning the men that Sanam Ahmed Khan wasn't
their prey. He'd spent the hour reminding them of the power he had over their
wealth, and the thin line they were walking by hurting Sanam in this way. He'd
seen the suppressed anger, the frustration, but he had also seen and heard them
acquiescing to his demands. The calls would be made tomorrow morning, and he
was sure that Sanam would have her job back by end of business tomorrow. He
smiled, satisfied with a job well done.
Sitting down in one of the alcoves, he allowed himself a
moment to relax, ready to take a breather. Rehan had gone off with Seher; she
had been intent on having some time with him. He'd laughingly urged his brother
on, wanting them to at least have a happily ever after.
His eyes landed on a svelte figure in red at the other
end of the room. Sanam hadn't looked his way the entire night. She was
heartbreakingly beautiful, and achingly vulnerable. The mere fact that her name
had been linked to his had almost ruined her life. Taking a deep swallow of the
drink in his hand, he rested his head on his hand. He had made the right
decision.
"Look at her," a female voice said from the
other side of the plants, disturbing his peace. Making a face, he took another
swallow, wondering who the woman was talking about. Ah, but he didn't really
care, as long as they didn't get too loud.
"Sanam Ahmed Khan. Asad and Zoya were so proud of
her. Their daughter, the lawyer. Their daughter, the serious one. Their precious,
precious daughter," another woman said, laughing maliciously.
Aahil's eyes widened, realizing that the catty remarks
were directed at Sanam. His hand tightened around his glass, but he forced
himself to stop, wondering how far they would go.
"The newspapers are tearing her apart," a third
voice chimed in. "Can you believe it? How must Zoya and Asad be dealing
with that? Their unsullied daughter spent the night with a convicted felon.
They must be so embarrassed," the woman gleefully crowed the words.
The satisfaction had long disappeared, and a fire was
burning inside of him now. They were talking about her. How could he make them
stop? His body stiffened, as he tried to deal with the yawning darkness inside
of him. This darkness had always been his constant companion, but now it was
growing with each vicious word. How could he make this right? What he had done
hadn't been enough. Why was it never enough?
"Shh!" a male voice interrupted. "I have
told you not to gossip, Nandini."
"I'm just saying the truth," the first woman
protested. "She was out all night. She was with that man. He is a
convicted killer. It's not like any of that is okay."
"Well, you can't talk about her," the man
ordered. "The Nawab has spent the night warning all of us about the dire
consequences."
"Please," the second woman said, snorting in
disgust. "That man doesn't scare me. Who is he going to silence? He can't
get everyone. They have no relationship. They have no connection. They have
nothing that would have made this night okay. Her behavior makes her a s**t,
and I am not afraid to say it."
Aahil shot up, his hand crushing the glass in his hands.
His hold was so strong that the glass broke into pieces, stabbing into the palm
of his hand. And it was enough, barely enough, to drown out the cries of that ever
increasing darkness. He ignored the shards of glass biting into his skin, and
stepped out of his alcove.
One by one, the members of the group fell silent, belatedly
noticing his presence feet away from them.
Opening his hand, he let loose the shards of glass, the
only sound in the room the tinkle of the glass against the hard, unforgiving
floor. His face was clear of expression, but anyone stupid enough to look into
his eyes would see the fire of retribution burning there.
The silence grew outward, spreading across the room, the
roar of the crowd diminishing into whispers from the impact of the Nawab's
angry presence. The stone had been dropped into the center of placid lake, and
the ripples would not stop until they crashed against the shore. Moving across
the living room, he found her red figure standing by the pool, at the top of
the stairs. She stood alone, her eyes turned away, gazing at something in the
water below. He didn't know what she had been looking at, but her eyes widened
when they met the gaze of his reflection.
She turned away, but he reached out and grabbed her,
entrapping her before she could escape. Her eyes glared up into his, as he
forced her to turn and face the crowd below.
"Just what are you doing?' she whispered furiously
to him.
"Saving you," he breathed against her lips.
"Ladies and gentleman," he began, looking at
the men and women who stood staring at them. His eyes met the glare Sanam's
father was sending his way. He saw the wary looks on both her mother and
grandmother's faces. The half smile on Rehan's face and the excited, yet
curious, look in Seher's eyes.
"I am sure that you have all heard the rumors
regarding myself and the daughter of this esteemed family, Miss Sanam Ahmed
Khan. Not only have you heard them, but it seems that some of you seem to
relish spreading them," he continued, meeting the eyes of the trio of
women that had so avidly gossiped near where he sat. He had to admit that he
enjoyed how one of them actually flinched. "You stand in this room, eat
their food, share pleasantries with them, and then talk behind their backs and
cackle over the fact that their daughter has fallen so low."
He saw Zoya's lips fall open on a gasp, her eyes
reflecting the pain of betrayal. He felt Sanam jerk in his hold, and swiftly
quelled her attempts to escape.
"The newspapers say that Sanam returned one morning
with me. They tell you that we were out all night, eyes witnessing us leaving
her place of work, but due to us not returning to any place that these
reporters know of, rumors began. But what really is so scandalous about meeting
the family of your groom before the wedding?"
The room fell completely still, even the whispers falling
silent at his words.
"These efforts to blacken Sanam's reputation have
not gone unnoticed. The fact that she
lost her job because of these rumors has not gone unnoticed," Aahil roared
to the crowd, making them back up from the storm of his anger.
"Just what are you saying, Mr. Aahil Raza
Ibrahim?" a voice demanded. "Nothing we have said has been false. Why
would you blame us for what both of you did?"
"I do not explain myself, but I will make one
exception. This is the only chance you all get. If you do not toe the line,
Bhopal will suffer. You will suffer. Sanam Ahmed Khan is my fiance. We have
been engaged for a month, a secret well kept because of my history," he
said, smiling sardonically. "On that aforementioned night, we took a trip
to meet my extended family. We stayed there all night, under very innocent
circumstances, and returned the next morning."
"I don't like to repeat myself, but I'll make
another exception. She is my fiance. No one touches her. One day she will be
the Nawab Begum of Bhopal. Begin to treat her as such from now on."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sanam stared at him, her arms crossed over her chest. He
stood against the closed door, leaning against it, trying to appear nonchalant.
The two of them were in her bedroom. She saw his eyes
flicker, moving across the room briefly, and wondered what he saw. After all,
he was the first man to come into this room besides her father.
The walls were a cream color, the bed in the corner of
the room queen-sized, to ensure there was enough room for Seher share on the
nights that she or Sanam needed company. A desk was placed in the other corner
of the bedroom; the place where she worked and prepared for all of her
hearings. Sanam's shoulders slumped for a moment. There would be no more
preparation at that desk, at least not for a while. In the center of those two corners,
there was a vanity, covered with makeup
and bits of jewelry. A little messy, and all her.
She took a deep breath. They were alone in that room,
with the doors closed. It was the only place where she could guarantee them
privacy without interruption. When he'd entered the room, it hadn't taken him
long to realize where they were. Given the choice between staying here with her or not talking to her at all, he had
stayed.
A muscle began to twitch in his jaw, as his eyes moved
over the place that was so intimately hers. It was stark and to the point. She
worked in one corner and slept in the other. The only hint of disarray was the
makeup and jewelry on the vanity. Even the sheets were impeccably straightened
out and the blankets precisely folded.
"Well?" she asked abruptly, realizing that he
could very possibly remain silent all night.
He could see the anger flashing in her eyes. And the
irritation, as evidenced by the pursed lips. Sanam was angry. He wondered
suddenly if she wanted to hurt him.
"How could you?" Sanam demanded, practically yelling
at him.
Aahil raised an eyebrow in surprise. That certainly did
not sound like the Sanam he knew.
"What is wrong with you, Aahil Raza Ibrahim? Don't
you ever think before you open your big mouth?" she yelled at him,
striding over to poke him in the chest with one agitated finger. "No,
really! What is wrong with you? Just last month you were taunting the public
with your past. The next day you were making out with me one minute, and
telling me to leave the next. You haven't spoken to me for a full month. Thirty
days. And suddenly you're telling the world we're engaged and being extra
chatty with your lies?" With every question she threw his way, there went
the finger. Poke. Poke. Poke.
"They were saying bad things about you!" Aahil
yelled back at her, his voice replete with his anger. He grabbed her finger,
stopping her from doing any further damage. "How dare they do that?
Especially when . . .," he stopped suddenly, unsure of how to go on.
"Especially when what?" She shouted, jumping
onto that slip. "What relationship do we have that you would even care? Who
said it was up to you to make things
right? Why should it matter to you?" And there she went, back to poking at
him with the finger that had escaped his clutches.
Brushing her finger away, he gripped her by her
shoulders, gently shaking her to stop the tirade that was coming at him. "It
matters. You matter, Sanam Ahmed Khan."
She gazed up at him, caught by surprise at his words. "Do you really mean that?" she asked
brokenly, her lips beginning to tremble.
"Of course," he affirmed. "Especially
since I am the reason all of this is happening. And those people dare to try
and come after me through you. How dare they think the Nawab of Bhopal would be
so weak?"
Sanam's expression had hardened as he continued to speak,
realizing that it only mattered because he thought it was about him.
"Tonight was just the warning. I've let them know
that you are untouchable," Aahil said confidently, seeing that she was
finally listening. "And I kind of owed you that, anyways. We'll let the
engagement go on for awhile. Once the stories die down and the next scandal
hits the papers, we can quietly break up." He gently pushed her back,
making room between the two of them.
Her mouth fell open at his arrogance. She shook her head,
stepping further back and folding her arms across her chest. "Oh, no,
you're not ending this that easily. You just said in front of the "whole
world" we're engaged. You say we're engaged, and we're engaged? You say
we're done, and we're done? That is not how it's going to work."
"What do you mean?" Aahil asked, becoming wary of
the sparkle in her eyes.
"If you have any honor in you at all," she
uttered, silently daring him to deny that, "Then we're seeing this
through."
"Meaning?"
"We're getting married, Aahil Raza Ibrahim,"
Sanam said, grabbing him by the collar. "You will not embarrass me by
backing out now." She shook him with each word. "I will not be a
shamed woman in the world's eyes for what they think I did and then for what
you do. You don't make me part of a scandal thrice in so many months. You said
we were engaged, then we're engaged. We're getting married."
Aahil's lips opened and then closed, and he seemed to be
ruminating on something. Staring at her, he lightly smirked. "Even if we torment
each other for the rest of our lives?"
"Even if," Sanam said softly. "I'd rather
torment you than live a carefree existence with anyone else."
He shook his head at her. At this moment, he didn't know
what to say. The only thing he could do was glare at her, muttering, "We'll
see." Turning, he opened the door and quickly left the room. He'd spent the
night fighting and winning every battle. Then, why did it feel like he had just
lost a war?
Sanam stood there, her eyes focused on his retreating
back. Slowly, very slowly, her fingers uncurled and her body relaxed. And
slowly, so very slowly, the worry fell away, a calm acceptance replacing it. Going
to sit down at the vanity, her eyes focused on her own reflection. She met her
eyes in the mirror, wondering who this woman was. On days like this, she
wondered if someone else was taking over. She certainly didn't feel like the
Sanam she had known herself to be all these years.
"Haye, Sanam
ki bacchi, I can't believe it
worked!" Seher cried out from the doorway. Striding forward, she sat down on the bench
next to Sanam.
Now there were four of them. Sanam smiled slightly,
seeing the happiness on the face of Seher's reflection. Was it any wonder that those men hadn't had a
chance?
"But was it worth it?" Seher asked with concern,
putting an arm around her sister's shoulders. "We haven't had a chance to
talk since you were forced to resign. Was it worth it, losing your job?"
"That wasn't planned." Sudden tears welled up in
Sanam's eyes. "I didn't expect that at all," she admitted in a broken
voice. "I never thought they'd let me go. I loved that job, Seher. I
trusted that Shaleen would understand. I was doing good there!" She took a
deep breath, and willed her tears away. Straightening her shoulders, she raised
her chin. "But I have to help him first. People who come to us, to LSB, are
ready to change their lives. They ask for help."
She got up and moved towards the window, her eyes focused
on the starry sky outside. "He will never ask for help. He hasn't so much
as spoken to me since the blowup over his identity. That was a month ago,
Seher. As far as I can see, he was serious when he told me to leave. I'm going
to help him regardless of that. Once that's taken care of," she paused and
took a deep breath, "Then I'll go back to helping everyone else."
"But it's still a huge sacrifice," Seher mused,
coming to stand by her sister. "I don't think I could put my life on hold
like that. To give myself so totally for one mission."
"Despite what you're saying now, Seher," Sanam
said softly, "You would have done the same thing if Rehan needed it. It
hurts a lot to let go of that part of my life, especially since I've worked
toward this goal for almost two-thirds of my life. But I gave it up with only
minor regret, just so that I can save that person who set me down this
path."
"What if he doesn't appreciate it?" Seher asked
suddenly. "What if he doesn't appreciate any of this. What if he finds out .
. . ?" her voice trailed off.
"What if he finds out that I spread the news myself?
That I was the one who began the rumors?" Sanam completed for her. "I'll
deal with it when I have to."
||
\/
Chapter 13: Bharday Jholy
A/N: Here's Chapter 12 for your reading pleasure. Hope everyone is having an awesome 2016 so far. 😃 Leave a comment if you like the chapter. As always, these comments are what keep me posting this story in this thread. Thanks everyone who took the time to comment on the last chapter. 🤗 I appreciated each and every one of them.
Edited by darkice7_12 - 8 years ago
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