Ok I absolutely adore that you guys are so passionate about the story but at the same time you know what the story was about right? you read the description and the introduction and you must have realised that it's about two women and one man. You guys have to understand that there is going to be love for the both and then he will have to choose. Or maybe the women will choose. There have been 40 chapters of Mannat and Wajeeh romance, a little hint of Wafaa and Wajeeh and suddenly I get pissed off dms and comments 😂😂😂

Chill out. Enjoy the story. Have I ever written a sad ending before? And also, I've never enjoyed reading arguments so damn much lmaooo. You guys are amazing ❤️😂

Also this is like one of my fav quotes ish thing so I'm sharing it here ❤️

Mannat x Wajeeh.

In the first three months of living in the village, things were quite hard but as she reached the fourth month, it seemed like they had developed a routine. She did not really like living here as much as she loved living in Los Angeles but it was not as bad as she had expected. Yes, it was quite sheltered and she did not have the freedom to go out whenever she wanted to but it wasn't as confined as she had believed it would be. In fact, she had also started to work from home.

She knew that M&K beverages was just a facade but recently, everyone had encouraged her to use her free time and work online for the company. Her mother was already working as the CEO for now. They were maintaining a clean image after all. Masroor Shah had left for Pakistan along with his family and would remain there for quite some time. In the meanwhile, her mother would be the one handling all the matters.

Besides, Wajeeh was proving true to his word. He would take her out every week for a day or even two. They would explore a new restaurant in Lahore and spend the night at a luxury hotel. In the mornings, they would take a swim together and pretend to be a normal couple.

Mannat didn't think that she was as happy as she should have been but she was adjusting and she didn't think she would even be able to adjust here.

She hardly ever talked to his other wife. She would catch glimpses of her or hear her voice or even find her cooking something every now and then but both the cousins avoided each other as much as they could.

She was also noticing that her mother-in-law was getting quite close with Wafaa. It did not anger her but it did make her feel some sort of way. She knew that Wafaa wasn't trying to conquer her territory, it wasn't a typical situation but it still bothered her.

It didn't matter so much though. Wajeeh was constantly working to control the situation and he had promised her that this wouldn't be the normal forever. His promise was enough to content her heart.

She had also started to observe the customs of the village. When she went to a wedding the other night, she saw how how the men and women section were divided. She also noticed how everyone stood up to greet her and how they never talked to her as if she was their equal. She could almost sense fear and hesitancy in their eyes, which made her realise that she was the wife of a mafia lord and she would not be able to make friends here.

Another custom she didn't become too fond of was the fact that no one seemed to care about the bride. Everyone was simply concerned about the groom and once the wedding was over, once it was the groom's turn to take the bride to his house, he did not even hold her hand. In fact, he did not even bother to spare her a glance and she was actually guided by the other women towards the house.

She also noticed how their house was the biggest one in the entire village. It was also the only one which looked modern and had all the luxuries. She observed that when he took her on a walk early in the morning.

She still hadn't visited her own village, her father's village to be precise. She knew that her grandfather waited for her but she had no energy in trying to be nice to the man who hated her mother.

She was already trying hard not to hate Wafaa, just because she shared her father's blood. The same man who was responsible for the death of her own father.

Every now and then, she thought about her life before all of this mess. She thought about how easy it would have been to marry some American guy and live life as a normal person. She thought of how easy it would have been if Wajeeh had actually been the fuck boy who couldn't ever remain loyal. She thought of how easy it would have been to run a company and maintain a normal routine.

But at the same time, she also thought if she could ever exchange Wajeeh for everything normal and everything simple in her life. She didn't think she would ever be able to do so. She didn't think she would ever be able to leave Wajeeh, she didn't think she would ever be able to unlove him.

And she knew that he wouldn't be able to unlove her either.

It was the only thought that always provided her with extreme comfort.

Wajeeh x Wafaa.

It had been three months since she had stopped feeling lonely. It had been three months since she had stopped feeling sorry for herself. It had been three months since she had stopped missing everything that she used to miss. It had been three months since she had developed a wonderful routine. In fact, these past three months, she had practically felt normal after a long time.

She did not feel confined to the third floor anymore. She had managed to convert one of the guest rooms into a room where she could practice dance. She had converted another one into a gym. She had even started to use the third floor's kitchen to bake something. She called it her experimental kitchen. Sometimes, her experiments would fail and sometimes they wouldn't.

She also had a routine now. She would wake up up and get dressed. She would put on some music and eat her breakfast alone. Then, she would walk down stairs and see what was there for lunch. Infact, she had also been deciding the menu for lunch and dinner most of the times.

In one way or the other, kitchen had become her safe please. Mannat never visited it so she was always safe in the kitchen. She hardly had any awkward encounters and always felt good whenever she was in there.

She had also developed a good bond with Wajeeh's mother. She didn't think she was quite there yet with his father but it was still a huge progress from before.

She went to the market every friday with her mother in law. She also ate dinner with them twice every week, since Mannat and Wajeeh would visit Lahore weekly. At times, she would have lunch with them as well. Infact, her mother-in-law also visited her for tea three or four times a week in the evening.

The woman was trying to make her feel welcomed in the house and Wafaa loved that about her. She was finally not feeling unwelcomed and foreign in the house. It was a beautiful feeling.

At the same time, she had also become good friends with Wajeeh. Their night time conversations had become a thing now. She had stopped trying to make desserts at night, since her husband always wanted coffee at three in the night.

She wasn't even a huge coffee fan but she still managed to make coffee every single night. Sometimes he would come and sometimes he just wouldn't.

On the nights when he wouldn't come, she would throw his coffee in the sink and pretend that she only made it for one person anyway.

But on the nights that he would come, they would have coffee in the kitchen together. He would sit on the kitchen counter and she would literally sit on the floor cross legged because that's how she liked to sit.

He did not talk much, she often wondered whether his words were just reserved for Mannat or not.

But she would talk and God, she talked alot.

She would tell him about her day, she would tell him about the conversation she had with his mother, she would talk about her most recent cooking experiments and he would laugh at the failed ones.

Sometimes, she also got serious enough to tell her about the times in which she had been tortured and abused by her family.

He couldn't forget the one time she told him about the abuse she faced. She was only twelve years old and there was going to be a school trip. She had not seen anything other than the roads. Even as a child and then later on as a teenager, the driver would take her to the city, wait for her classes to end and then bring her back to the village every single day. This one time, there was a school trip and she was very excited about it. She went home and excitedly told her parents.

Her father blatantly said no. Balaaj, who had just turned eighteen that year and wanted to show his dominance, hit her twice in the face. She cried for help but nobody stopped him.

When she couldn't take another slap, she hit her foot on his knee to make him stop. She told Wajeeh that it was a huge mistake on her part. As everybody saw what Wafaa had done to her brother, they triggered the family by saying that Wafaa would turn into another Ayesha.

Her brother locked her in a room for three days and her father never stopped him. He didn't even look at her. On the third day, she begged him to let her out and he did.

Malik Ibrar told her daughter never to hit any man again. She cried into his lap and promised to never do it again. It wasn't until she got old enough and realised that her family had been feeding misogynist and abusive shit into her head for years.

When she told her story to him, he couldn't help himself. He got off the counter and sat cross legged by her side. She hadn't even realised but as she cried, her head fell on his shoulder and her hand gripped his arm for support.

It was only after a few minutes that she calmed down and Wajeeh stood up, not even bothering to finish the coffee as he mumbled a good night and walked away.

Wafaa felt her cheeks burn after a long time that night. She felt something in her heart but she never choose to ponder over it.

He loved Mannat.

She loved Iskander.

She missed Iskander.

That was it.

But if she really did miss him, why had she still not responded to his message. A few weeks ago, he had texted her and told her that he would do anything to get her back and she didn't have to worry. He had told her to call him whenever she could but she felt too scared to do so.

She hadn't thought about it after that. She didn't want to. She missed Iskander but she didn't want him to risk his life and hers to be with her.

Besides, she felt like she was in a better control of her life now. She didn't want to lose the trust of people who had just started to like her.

When she thought of him, she also thought about how he had managed to get her number. Sure, he had his contacts but literally, her number was not even registered. Wajeeh had only given her a new phone and number because he didn't want her to feel caged.

How did Iskander even get it?

The thought of him led her to open her drive and relive the time they had shared together. It wasn't until she reached a picture from two years ago where he had her on his lap and she was kissing his cheek that she realised tears were streaming down her face.

He treated her like a Queen. How the hell did she not think of him all this time? Why didn't she?

She closed the picture in a hurry as Nasreen entered her room with a basket of clothes.

She greeted her with a salam and Wafaa stood up, telling her arrange her clothes in the closet.

Nasreen did exactly that, chatting away at the same time.

"Mannat bibi abhi tak so rahi hain. itna bhi kon sota hai Wafaa baji? Uper se roz unke bistar ki chaadar badlani parti."

(Miss Mannat is still asleep. How can anyone sleep so much? And you know I have to change her bedsheet every single day.)

Wafaa let out a sigh, not really interested in hearing about her husband's sex life. It didn't hurt her but it made her uncomfortable. And honestly, she always felt something in the pit of her stomach everytime she thought about Wajeeh sleeping with Mannat. It was weird. She didn't understand it.

"Aisi bhi kya aag lagi hui hai. Chote shah Sahab ap ke kamre main se kitni jaldi chale jate jab se wo ayi hain. Pehle to ap dono ikhathe sote thay na."

(Why do they need to do it every night? He also leaves your room very early now after her arrival, you both used to sleep in the same room before.)

Wafaa looked at her with wide eyes. Nasreen had no filter after all.

"Nasreen?! Chup kar jao. Koi sun lega to masla ban jayega. Ye baatein nahi karte is tarah."

(Nasreen, please be quiet. If someone hears, it will land you in trouble. You shouldn't talk about these things.)

She shut her up. Nasreen nodded and started to arrange her clothes in the wardrobe again, glancing at Wafaa before she spoke again.

"Us din raat main jab aap ro rahi thi, kitne pyaar se apko chup karwa rahe thay."

(When you were crying that night, he was consoling you with so much love.)

She mentioned out of nowhere.

Wafaa looked at her with a confused frown on her face.

"Tum to nahi thi wahan."

(You weren't even there.)

She said, finding it odd that someone had seen her emotional outburst and his way of handling it.

"I came to get some milk but I stopped when I saw you in the kitchen."

"Acha. Mujhe laga sab so gaye honge."

(I thought everyone fell asleep.)

"Mujhe lagta chote shah sahab ap ka bauhat khayal karte hain lekin zyada dikhate nahi hain. Wo dusri wali naraaz hojayegi na warna."

(I think he really cares about you but he can't show it because his other wife might get angry.)

She said, putting the last few pieces of clothes in the wardrobe before closing it.

Wafaa pondered over her words, finding her heart clench at the thought of him caring about her. It felt too unreal, too impossible.

"Hogaya? Chalo ab jao. Kitni baatein karti ho tum."

(Done? Now go. You talk too much.)

Wafaa replied, noticing that she had arranged all the clothes.

"Wafaa baji, ek aur baat bolun?"

(Can I say one more thing?)

"Han?"

(Yes?)

Wafaa asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Aap bhi bola karo na ke apko bhi le kar Jaya karein ghumane. Har hafte bus Mannat bibi hi jati hain."

(You should also ask him to take you out. Why is miss Mannat the only one to go every week?)

People in this village didn't really understand that one marriage was done out of love and the other was done out of duty.

Love and duty went side by side.

But it didn't mean that duty could ever over power love.

"Nasreen, out now. I'll scold you if you start again."

Wafaa said, asking her to leave because she didn't even want to think like that.

"Wajeeh, I searched a new place. It's called the penthouse. We should go there this time."

Mannat said, rubbing lotion over her legs as he she stared at him through the mirror and found him sprawled all over the bed.

"What's the food type?" He asked, sitting up.

"Seafood mostly. But it's got other options as well. I really want to go." Mannat insisted, standing up after putting a head band and removing her earrings.

"Okay. We can do whatever you want." He murmured, hearing his phone ring.

He picked it up as he felt his wife climb up on the bed, switching on the lamp.

"Hello?"

"Assalam alaykum, yes Malik Sahab. How are you?"

Mannat knew who it was then. Malik Ibrar. The man who ordered the killing of her father. The ruthless man who deserved nothing but death.

"Dinner? Tomorrow?"

Mannat looked at him wide-eyed. They had to leave for Lahore tomorrow. It was that time of the week. She shook her head and frowned, asking him to not agree.

"Actually, mera kuch kaam hai us din lekin Wafaa ajayegi. Main use jab lene aunga to zaroor khana khaunga aap ke sath."

(I have some work but Wafaa will come. I'll definitely have dinner with you some other day.)

He tried, letting out a nod when the man hesitantly agreed.

"Zaroor. I'll send her tomorrow morning."

He affirmed, Mannat simply smiled and put her head against his chest, not saying anything as she drifted to sleep this time.

After dinner, he had drove Mannat around the city. They had even visited a few stores, with Mannat buying everything she set her eyes upon.

At the end, he had to call his men to help him out with the bags. Mannat always said shopping was a therapy and seeing her buy so many things, it really seemed like therapy did her well.

Once she was done shopping, they had reached the hotel room and while she was in the bathroom, he had checked his phone..only to find a message from his other wife.

I don't want to be here. I'm scared.

Her message was sent over an hour ago but he had just read it

No one will raise a hand on you. Do not worry.

He sent her a text, understanding why she was scared after all. Once he had seen her burst into tears after explaining the trauma she went through at twelve years of age, he understood why she was so scared.

What if something happens?

Her reply came in an instant, as if she was waiting for his response in the first place. The fact that she wasn't even comfortable in her own house, it was daunting.

It won't. I'll come and get you tomorrow.

He assured.

What if something happens before that?

Before he could reply, she was already writing again.

Balaaj bhai is already mad after you undermined hai authority last week. Again.

So his plan of hurting her brother's ego and causing a rift between the two men was actually working a little too well.

He will not lay a hand on you Wafaa. Call me if there's any trouble.

He texted her, putting his phone away the moment Mannat entered the room.

"The food wasn't so bad, your research skills are improving hmm?" He said to her, finding her free of makeup with her hair falling against her back.

"They are," Mannat replied, coming towards him.

She adjusted herself over his lap, kissing the side of his head.

"But I'm bored of Lahore now. I want to go to Islamabad." She said to him, he understood.

How much more could she see here anyway? She had explored more than she possibly could have.

"Okay, next week I'll fly you there." He told her, putting his hands around her waist to pull her close.

"Find a restaurant you likeand we already have a place there. Sounds good?"

Mannat nodded, sighing as he kissed her jaw.

"You know, things don't feel too fucked up when we're here." She admitted, leaning into his touch.

"And no one looks at me in a weird way when we ask to change the sheets." She mentioned, feeling him stop.

She clicked her tongue, seeing his eyes set on her for an answer.

"What do you mean?"

"Nasreen changes the sheets everyday. I see the judgment in her eyes,"

It angered Wajeeh. How could anyone judge his wife in his own house?

"I'll throw her out of the house then." He said, all casual. Mannat looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head.

"No, no. She doesn't say anything. Stop being so mean." She pulled his cheek, shaking her head again.

Wajeeh narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're pulling my cheek, sweetheart." He murmured, surprised.

If any of his men saw him like this, they would literally stop respecting him.

"I am." Mannat replied, smiling at the way he looked so surprised. Was it the first time? It really wasn't.

"I'm literally a mafia lord." Wajeeh reminded her. She hummed.

"You're literally the guy who couldn't get it up the first time he tried to have sex." She said in the same tone, he groaned.

"You know too much about me." She nodded.

"And still I love you. I must be very nice, no?" Even though she had said it in a way to tease him, she saw the way he didn't even hesitate in nodding and agreeing with her.

"You are," He confirmed, placing his hand on her cheek.

"You're my angel." He affirmed, she grinned.

"And you're the devil?" She guessed.

Sometime, he did feel like the bad guy in her story. He felt like all he had done was hurt her, even though it was never his intention.

"Yes. Don't you think?" He enquired.

"No?" She didn't believe that.

He grinned and got up suddenly, holding onto her as she was still in his lap.

"I'll show you then!" He exclaimed, throwing her on the bed.

All he could hear was her laugh in return.

Devils weren't supposed to make angels laugh like that.

"Anything you want to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

He asked, chuckling as he teased her. He was still leaned over her, finding her too sexy in such disheveled condition. She had no clothes on, her face was all red and she was too hot.

"No, I'm tired. Stop talking."

She said with a groan, knowing what he was trying to do.

"But I'm not even half done yet." He teased, she smacked his arm.

"Yes, you are. I'm so tired."

She insisted.

"Are you tired or are you sore?" He enquired, finding her let out a huge sigh.

"I'm sore and achy."

"I'll make you feel good." He murmured, kissing the top of her head.

"The reason I'm sore and achy is because you made me feel good. Too good." She joked, he hummed.

"So then, I'm sure we can do it all over again." He purred, putting a hand on her jaw and his thumb stroked her lip with a smirk on his face.

"And again-" He whispered, placing light and feathery kisses all over her neck. "And again," He toyed with her nipple, she sucked in a breath.

A moment ago, she was tired. Now, she was seduced by the look in his eyes. He smelled amazing, his eyes only stared at her as if he was drinking her in but she felt like she was the one slowly drowning in him.

She felt like he was her drug and there was nothing she could do to get rid of the addiction.

"I think-" She tried to say something, she didn't even know what she was going to say but her voice came out needy and breathless and he couldn't help but groan at the need in her voice.

He placed his lips over hers, removing all the thoughts she had in her head as she once again focused on him and his touch and his scent.

She ran her fingers through his hair, hearing his groan as she felt his tongue.

It wasn't until his phone kept buzzing for a long time that he realised his night wouldn't be going the way he had expected it to.

--

Thoughts?