Haya felt herself being shaken awake, she lazily opened her eyes and met with the familiar pair of charcoal eyes staring back at her with an annoyed face.

"We're here. Get up now." She rubbed her eyes violently whilst suppressing a yawn.

"How much longer have I slept?" Abrar gave her a blank stare as he got down from the car, Haya too gets down and her eyes immediately examined her surroundings. Everything was typical like how a village was supposed to be. And she couldn't wait to go and have a close look at what all they have here.

Long gone were her sleep, now all she wanted to do was to have a look at everything in there and shop whatever she wanted to shop.

"And wear your dupatta properly. How many times do I have to tell you?" Abrar took her slide pin and pinned her dupatta tightly to her hair. Haya had her mouth in agape. How did he do that so perfectly? She had no idea.

"Now stop wasting my time and buy whatever you want." he couldn't stare at her hazel eyes for any longer. It was the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen and that freaked him a little bit. Abrar had no idea that she was this beautiful. He never paid any attention to her. Now that he has noticed, he wanted to keep staring at her beautiful eyes again and again. What a creep! He scolded himself mentally.

"Where can I get my dupatta and hijab?" Haya wondered in confusion.

"Come with me." Abrar led the way, sighing inwardly and Haya followed him behind with a smiling face.

"Assalamualaikum, Chote nawab. Come inside. What a pleasure it is to have you here." the shopkeeper bowed his head in respect as soon as Abrar stepped inside his store. Haya was so not expecting this.

"My begam Sahiba wants to buy dupatta and hijab. Show us the best of all." Abrar ordered him authoritatively. Haya couldn't believe her ears. Can a person be any more rude and annoying?

"Of course. Of course. We have the best fabrics in this whole village. I'm sure begam Sahiba will be pleased." the shopkeeper then went inside to bring the pile of different colour hijabs and dupatta. Haya still couldn't fathom all of these things. The kind of respect these people show for her husband is bemusing her.

"Abrar. He said salaam to you. Don't you think it's rude of you to not reply to him?" Haya whisper yelled at him angrily.

"Stop telling me what to do." Abrar declared as he took out the cigarette box from his pocket.

"You're unbelievable. If you get to tell me to do this or do that. Then I get to tell you whatever I want to. After all, I'm your begam Sahiba." Haya smirked at his pissed expression as he puffed the smoke.

The Shah clan used to be the Nawab of this village once upon a time and people still call them nawab Saab out of respect. Abrar's father was called nawab saab while he's addressed as chote nawab. Haya found this very strange but it was cool. It was even more cool when she gets to use the begham sahiba card on her husband every now and then.

An unfamiliar girl appeared out of nowhere. She smiled at Haya and her eyes lingered a little longer on Abrar, who paid zero attention to her.

The shopkeeper came back with the dupatta collections and Haya's attention automatically shifted to the materials and fabric. They were actually good; it was not what she expected it to be.

"These are brilliant. The best kind of cotton fabric I have seen in a long time. I want to buy this in every colour." Haya announced happily as she picked one dupatta.

"Thank you for buying this, begam Sahiba. We are pleased to have you here." the owner muttered happily as he signed his daughter to pack the stuff. The girl immediately obliged her father.

"How much was that?" Haya enquired as she opened her purse.

"It's 5500₹" the owner hasn't sold anything for a whole week and selling this much meant the world to him.

"Here take this." Haya was about to hand over the money to him but her hand was caught in the middle. She looked at Abrar questioningly wondering as to why he'd stop her.

"You don't have to pay."

"Cut that amount from your monthly tax and tell me how much is remaining?" the owner was even more pleased to hear this.

"It's 5000₹ Chote Nawab."

"Here. Take this." Abrar handed him the money from his wallet, Haya glared at him angrily.

"Why are you paying for me. I'm capable of buying it on my own." Abrar ignored her again as he continued to smoke.

"You're so unbelievable." Haya felt like pulling out her hair in frustration. The girl who finished packing everything handed it over to Haya, who took them unwillingly. She did not like the thought of him spending his money on her.

"Ehsan, take this to the car." Abrar took the bags from Haya as he handed them to the guy who was guarding them.

"Where do I find Patiala and Sarara here?" Haya was pretty much getting used to his arrogance, ignoring him she enquired the girl about the dresses, who smiled in response.

"I know a perfect place. Follow me, please."

Haya nodded as she followed that girl. All the way unknown people started greeting her or blessing her. She was starting to feel annoyed with every passing second. They all treated Abrar as though he was their king or something. And she, his queen. And to add a cherry on the top, a guy with a big gun was walking behind them for their protection.

"I have some work to finish here. I'll be back in a minute." Abrar informed her and before she could even respond to him, he was already gone.

"This way, begam Sahiba." the girl whose name was still unknown to her, informed Haya.

"Call me Haya, please. And what's your name?"

"Forgive me, begam Sahiba. That would be inappropriate and Chote Nawab wouldn't be very pleased if he hears me calling you like that. I'm Shaziya by the way." the girl introduced herself as they got into the clothing store.

"Your wish." Haya smiled at her as she took a look at the store properly.

"I'll get going then. It was nice meeting you." Shaziya bowed down in respect and ran away from there. Haya found this all so wired. But she decided to ignore it for the best.

"How can I help you?" it was a guy of her age, he had that charming look on his face that might have stolen many hearts. Haya ignored his creepy smile as she asked him to show her the latest collection of Patiala and Sarara.

"We have the best collection of those for beautiful ladies like you. Try this one." the guy made sure to touch her hands as he gave her the pink Patiala. Haya pulled her hands away with a frown. But the next moment a punch was landed on his face making him fall in force.

"Chote nawab..." the guy did not understand what wrong did he do to piss Abrar to this extent. But Abrar Shah's eyes were burning with rage and fury.

"Dare you to touch my wife again and I'll make sure to cut those hands. You'll regret ever landing your pathetic eyes on my wife." Abrar took out his pistol from his pocket as he placed it on the guy's forehead. His voice was intimidating and terrifying. The guy gulped his saliva in fear for he has committed a grave mistake.

Haya did not understand what just happened. The fact that Abrar was protecting her was a shock to her. She thought he didn't care. But was she wrong? And how did Abrar so casually carry a pistol in his pocket? Wasn't that illegal?

But more than anything her heart warmed knowing that he was doing all this because of her and for the sake of her. After her parents have left this world, he was the first-ever guy who's trying to protect her and that was freaking her out.

No... she cannot have a soft corner for him. He's still the same old arrogant guy. She needed to be careful around him.

"Forgive me, chote nawab. I didn't know that she was your begam Sahiba. Please forgive me." the guy begged in fear as he eyed the pistol being placed on his forehead.

"Even if she's not my wife, you still are not allowed to touch her. You're not allowed to touch any woman unless she's your wife or sibling. Guys like you disgust me." Abrar was almost going to press the trigger, Haya's eyes went wide at this as she held his hands.

"Stop it... You can't kill him." Haya mumbled in fear and anxiety. Her eyes had that pity which pissed Abrar to another extent.

"Don't pity him Haya, guys like him deserve to die," Abrar muttered furiously.

"Of course, they do. But you're no one to take away his life. That's not your job. Let's go from here." Haya pulled his hands as she started to drag him out of the store. The guy then heaved a sigh of relief.

Abrar pulled his hands away from her with a frown, although he liked the touch of her soft hands on his. He cannot let her get into his heart. She's too dangerous for him.

"Why do you carry a pistol with you?" Haya asked him as she paused walking.

"So that I'd teach people like him a lesson. Have you purchased everything?" Abrar replied uninterestedly.

Unbelievable! She muttered under her breath.

"I wanted to buy some dresses but that guy made a scene over there. Never mind, I'll buy it some other time. Let's go home." Haya frowned at the thought of the guy.

"I cannot bring you here another time. Buy whatever you wanted to buy, today only," he stressed on the today part more precisely.

"Fine... Let's go to another shop then." Haya turned her face away dramatically as she started to walk ahead. Abrar for the first time smiled that day, as he watched her walk in the wrong direction.

"You're going in the wrong way. Hayat Ali." With a frown, she turned around and faced him.

"Lead the way then, Abrar Shah. And stop calling me Hayat. It's Haya for you." she corrected him angrily. Abrar didn't say anything as he grabbed her hands and took her the right way.

"Stop pulling my hands." Haya pulled her hands with a huff.

"Stop yelling at me." Abrar gave her a pointed look as they entered another dress store.

The people of their village who passed by watched the new couple's banter with amazement. More than anyone the guy who was guarding them both was surprised that Abrar Shah's wife was like this.

No one has ever dared to talk with Abrar Shah like the way Haya Ali was talking with him. They all feared him so much to do that. Anyone who dared to do so would not be spared.

But it looked like Haya Ali was an exception after all.

***

Glossary:

Saab= sir

Patiala, Sarara= types of dresses worn by South Asian women.