"Stop the car! Please."

Abeerah's voice was strained, sounding like a choked, strangled sob. It had been merely fifteen minutes since they'd left in the car that Zulfiqar's men had arranged for them, and Abeerah couldn't hold her sickness in anymore.

Ozhan looked at her worryingly as he stopped the car on the side of the road and watched her get out of it hurriedly, first fumbling with the seatbelt, then with the door's handle, and finally, barely missing losing her footing, going to the side of the road before puking her guts out. He got out as well, and without any word, gently grabbed her hair pulling it out of the vomit's trajectory.

After tonight's change of events, Ozhan himself was a lot disturbed. That was a word too mild for what he was feeling. After he'd seen Bi Jaan's car leave, and the men had assured him that they'll take care of the situation, which was making sure that the police and Chaudhary's didn't find their way to him or his brother, he'd taken a look around.

And truly realized what he'd done.

He'd seen glimpses of darkness inside him time and time for the past ten years. He'd been ruthless, merciless, a cold-blooded murderer and so much more. But he'd always believed he'd had a heart. A heart that liked to believe that he was still human.

But he was finding it very difficult to find that heart tonight.

What happened tonight, what he'd done had been nothing worse than what he'd been doing for the past many years. But tonight, it felt as if the malice in him had finally revealed itself in its full form. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror, but he knew the only thing that would stare back at him would be what used to scare his victims.

But why did was he thinking about all these? Why couldn't he breathe? He'd finally broken the chains that tied him and his brother, but why didn't he feel free? Why did he feel scared of himself when such hadn't happened in all those years?

Why did he feel like a true monster?

Looking at Abeerah, seeing her so ashen and shaken, he found the answers to all of his questions. It hadn't been his own belief that made him feel humane. It was hers that reflected in his own heart.

After a moment, there was nothing left in her stomach to throw up, but her stomach continued to heave, forcing her to remain in that bent position. Ozhan rubbed her back comfortingly. After her body had realized that it didn't have anything she couldn't do well without, she straightened, breathing heavily.

Ozhan grabbed a water bottle from the car and handed it to her. She took sips and after gargling a few times, not caring about seeming unladylike and just wanting to get rid of the acidic taste in her mouth, she spat it out. Splashing water on her face, she tried to bring her breathing to normal.

"Abeerah? Do you feel okay?" The question tasted so wrong on his tongue. What sort of question was that? He could see how she felt and he knew the reason why.

"H-how could she do that?" Cold sweat broke out on her neck. She was trying hard not to shiver but was failing miserably. "S-she . . . H-he said she did it. S-she attacked Lala. S-she would've killed him. She would've killed b-both of us."

"Are you surprised?" He wasn't. At least not that much. Everything was possible in the life they'd led. But he understood why she was. He'd gone out of his way to make sure she didn't have to actually face the gruesome reality of their life. Knowing it was enough. That's why he'd convinced Yazaan to send her to Islamabad to her Khala's (mother's sister) house in the name of study.

"B-but Ozhan. S-she is our grandmother! Didn't she love us?!"

"And it was her own firstborn she didn't mind being killed by her husband." It was the truth and he didn't know how to sugarcoat it.

Abeerah had been in school when her parents were killed. She remembered sitting on the ground of school, waiting for hours for someone to come and collect her. Until the sun had started to set and a kind security guard offered to take her home. When she'd reached home, she had opened the door with the spare key in the plant and bid the man goodbye. The excitement she thought she'd feel after seeing her brother returning from abroad after so long was nowhere to be found. Instead, the horror and grief on seeing her parents' bloody bodies and equally bloodshot eyes of the boys filled with rage and lust for revenge had been too much for the twelve-year-old girl to endure. And she'd passed out.

When she'd woken up, her head was in the warm lap of her grandmother who was more than eager to wipe her tears and hug her into comfort.

Abeerah didn't know what to say to Ozhan after that. He made her sit in the car and the journey back to Lahore was spent in silence, their ears deafening by the shrieks of their thoughts.

•~•

Layeba was patting her hair dry after a long shower when the doorbell rang. She furrowed her brows as she discarded the towel and grabbed her dupatta. Who can it be at six in the morning? People were beginning to lack decent manners to not come to someone's home before nine in the morning or after ten in the night.

She looked at Sanem at the same time as Sanem looked up from her iPad on the bed. Why was Sanem at their home? Simple. She'd forgotten her keys again. Layeba didn't know why she hadn't given Sanem this home's key yet, she had the key to the last one.

"Any idea who it could be?" She asked Sanem.

"Nope." Sanem stood up as well and they made their downstairs as the door was knocked again.

"Who is it?" She called.

Shiza had come out of her room as well and was looking at the door curiously and worriedly.

"It's us, Bhabhi. Ozhan", came the reply and Layeba couldn't have opened the door any faster.

Layeba immediately took in Abeerah's shaken form and knew whatever bad she'd anticipated, much worse than that had happened.

"Abeerah", she could only whisper. One word and it was enough for Abeerah to break down. One moment, Abeerah's eyes were dry like Sahara, and in the next Niagra falls. Abeerah leaped onto Layeba, hiding her face in the crook of her neck, and started bawling like a baby.

Layeba wrapped her arms around Abeerah slowly, her mind not wrapping around things fast enough. Well, she didn't yet have anything to wrap her head around, but still.

"Abeerah, meri bachi! What happened?" Shiza asked worriedly and grabbed Abeerah's hand, pulling her into an embrace. They all but one made their way into the living room, their worry reflecting on their expressions.

Shiza made Abeerah sit on the sofa, consoling her and Sanem brought a glass of water while Layeba's eyes were on the man who tried to go into his room unnoticed. She followed him to the hallway and just as he was about to step into his room, she called him,

"Ozhan?"

He stopped midstep and closed his eyes. He really didn't need anything right now, least of all Layeba's questions which he knew he couldn't avoid and also couldn't answer. But Layeba surprised him when she asked quietly,

"Do I want to know?"

He turned to look at her noticed how her gaze traveled down his kurta. It wasn't prominent due to the brown color of his shirt, but Layeba knew enough of it to know for certain that the rusty-colored stains on his kurta were of blood. And it didn't take Sherlock to know that it wasn't of any animal.

She looked back at him with fear in her eyes. But he relished in the fact that it was not of him. She was the one person he knew who would never be afraid of these brothers. Never again.

The fear was because she was genuinely scared of what would come out of his mouth. Ozhan knew how badly she wanted to forget the dark past of her husband, to give a chance to their life together. And hence, he knew telling her would do no good.

As they say, what she doesn't know won't kill her.

"Ozhan?", She said gently.

"No", he said, his voice low. "No, it doesn't concern you."

She nodded, somewhat relieved, and he went into his room.

Few minutes had passed, Abeerah had calmed down a bit, the three ladies were sitting around her, worried when Ozhan entered the hall, freshly showered in dark blue jeans and a white T-shirt.

Pouring water in a glass from the jug on the table, he sat down and drank it all in one gulp.

"How's Lala?", He asked, looking at Layeba.

Abeerah focused on her as well, probably realizing now that she had a brother who had been in critical condition when they'd left.

"He's alright, Alhamdulillah." Layeba smiled, hoping to lift their spirits with a piece of good news. "He woke up yesterday, and by the grace of Allah, after much rest and precautions, he's gonna be completely fine."

Abeerah and Ozhan, both sighed in relief, mumbling Alhamdulillah under their breaths.

"I want to see Lala", Abeerah said, getting emotional again.

"Sure. Grab some rest first, then you both can visit."

"No, I'm fine. I won't be able to rest without seeing him."

"Abeerah. Love. Yes, I can bend the hospital's visiting rules for you, but I won't, seeing as you two look like ghosts. So unless you take some rest, you're not meeting your lala."

"We're fine, bhabhi", Ozhan said. He now wanted nothing more than to tell his brother what he had done.

"I wasn't asking." And there was our Layeba again.

•~•

"Alright, folks! The dates are in. The wedding's set for the mid of May, which is in four months", Sanem announced, entering the room, taking everyone's attention. Abeerah and Layeba were sitting on Yazaan's right while Ozhan occupied the opposite seat. Abeerah had cried buckets, repeating and reminiscing what would have happened if Sanem and Ozhan hadn't reached in time to save him or if Layeba hadn't operated or if it had gone wrong. So Sanem's entry was welcome all by Layeba, Yazaan, and even Ozhan, who was happy Abeerah wasn't crying anymore.

"Congratulations!" Were chorused by three, and "WHAT?!" Was exclaimed by one.

Sanem handed a file to Layeba, having taking it from a resident who'd been on the way to hand it to Layeba herself, and slapped Layeba's forearm.

"What's with this reaction?! Your friend's finally getting married. You could at least sound happy!"

"May ki garmi check ki hai tumne? Itni garmi main shaadi kon rakhta hai?" That was a fair point, Lahore's weather was not pleasant in May, to say the least.

(Are you aware of May's heat? Who sets a wedding in such hot weather?)

"Your mom wanted her son-in-law to be a part of the first wedding in your family after your marriage," she looked at Yazaan and could see how he was about to protest and say the usual stuff like you shouldn't do it and all, so she continued, "and I couldn't have agreed more. Your Mamu and Mumani agreed, hence May."

This was a fair point as well.

"But May?", She groaned.

"Layeba! Succeeding May is June and July, and I'm NOT getting married then. Then comes August, and Hasaan has to go to the two-month-long conference then. And I'm not waiting that long!!" Sanem took in a long breath.

"Ok, ok. Chill! Besabri Aurat."

(Impatient woman!)

"Now that that's out of the way, Abeerah, your department's head got in contact with me and told me your semester's at risk since you missed your Mids. Now, lucky for you, I explained to him the matter, and he's more than happy to do you a favor. Now, you can either freeze your semester or take the Re-Exams next week."

It was amazing how quickly Sanem changed topics.

Now that Sanem had mentioned it, Abeerah remembered that she was supposed to be taking her midterm exams. Searching her mind for the current date, she came to realize that today was her second last exam.

"I'll take the re-mids."

"Excellent!"

"No!" Ozhan exclaimed. "No, she won't take the exams now. Freeze her semester, if you must."

"Why?", Layeba asked, while everyone looked at him confusedly.

"She hit her head pretty hard in the accident. She's had a massive headache since." He hadn't told anyone about what had happened in the village, but everyone knew they'd went there and the circumstances they'd gone in too.

Yazaan glared at him, and he had the decency to look guilty. It was his rash decision that had led to all the chaos, after all.

"Why didn't you say so before? She might've had a concussion!"

"It slipped my mind in the haze. Can you please run the tests on her?"

"Yeah, of course."

The way he meaningfully raised his eyebrows at Layeba, she understood that he wanted to be left alone with his brother.

"Right, come on, Abeerah. Let's go see what's wrong with your head."

"I'm fine, really. There's nothing wrong with my head!"

"I'll decide that. Come on!"
•~•

Yazaan stared at Ozhan, who was sitting as silent as a grave, hoping he would speak up soon. He'd been feeling pain in all his body that was just bearable, since the moment he'd woken up. But he refused to show it to anyone. He didn't want to appear more weak than he already was.

He knew what he felt wasn't even the tip of the iceberg, that his body was injected with so many medicines and pain killers that the real deal was nowhere near what he was going through. But he didn't want to ask to relieve the pain.

And Ozhan's posture and expressions, which would seem cold and stern to an outsider, screamed of guilt and grief to him. And that alone was enough to overwhelm him.

"Will you speak already?!"

"I killed us all today."

How could Ozhan say those words with such emptiness when they made a dam of emotions burst in Yazaan? Ozhan hadn't even elaborated and those five words carried so much burden that he felt like suffocating.

"What.did.you.do?"

Ozhan knew he'd heard him well and he had a clear idea of what he'd meant. So he didn't beat around the bush.

"I had two options today. It was to kill our grandmother. Or to kill ourselves. No matter how much I willed myself to do it, I couldn't kill her. So I opted for the second option. Yazaan Ibrahim Khan, Abeerah Ibrahim Khan, Ozhan Saleem Khan; they're no more."

"Ozhan, I swear I'm not in the mood for metaphors. Just tell me what the fuck happened! Why is Bi Jaan in the equation?!"

Ozhan told him everything. He didn't hold back. He didn't spare his brother the pain he had felt. He didn't spare the betrayal. He didn't spare the grief from the death of maternal care and love. He didn't spare the guilt of not seeing the obvious signs. He didn't spare the shame of being so foolish to be blinded by the fake love of their grandmother.

He didn't spare him any of the emotions that he had felt himself.

He didn't spare him the rage. Yazaan felt furious, thinking of all the times his grandmother had lied to his face, looking in his eyes, making him believe that she was sincere to him. And he felt enraged at himself for being so helpless at this moment that he couldn't just go and finish what his brother couldn't do.

". . . And so, I had the moment. And I decided for both of us. I knew I had wanted this for the longest time. And I knew you wanted freedom. Now we're here."

Yazaan closed his eyes, reflecting on everything that Ozhan had just said. Yazaan Ibrahim Khan didn't exist anymore to his family. His 'family' would shed tears at his death, no matter how fake they would be. His enemies would celebrate his death. Someone else would be crowned the leader of the Khan clan.

He didn't know how to express what he felt.

He knew it was the right thing. But who was he if not Yazaan Ibrahim Khan? If not for being the King of Hunza, what purpose did he serve? Between the burden of the forced responsibilities and recently conflicted conscience, he had known that he would fight his way through everything. He would always make sure no one denied his authority, no matter what methods he used.

But now that he had no identity, he didn't know who he was. It wasn't like Yazaan Ibrahim Khan would cease to exist on paper. No. There was no need for all that. His people in Hunza, wouldn't try finding them using the most advanced means. Some minor issues could be dealt with. But whatever could he do? How could he just start anew? He didn't know how to. He didn't even have the means to do so. He had a degree, but that was just as good as being a piece of paper.

He pushed all those doubts and uncertainties to the back of his head, one question prominent of them all. The question that determined whether all this would even happen or not?

"Are you sure she would do as you said and won't strike back?"

Ozhan's eyes turned dark, his voice turned graver. "Oh, trust me, Lala. She wouldn't even think of daring."

•~•

The cars stopped in front of the haweli and a man opened the door to the backseat, allowing the old lady to step out, her cane hitting the ground first.

She looked at the man who'd opened the door, the man who had escorted her here on the orders of her grandson and felt goosebumps erupt on her skin remembering, what she hoped, the last words of her grandson to her.

Zulfiqar gestured him to go inside, while he followed her from a distance, behaving like a well-trained guard. When she entered the main hall of the haweli, she summoned everyone. She just wanted to get it all over with.

Within five minutes, everyone was there, leaving all that they were doing, and were patiently waiting for her to tell them what was so important.

"As all of you knew, because of Yazaan's wife, Layeba, Yazaan and Ozhan were both neglecting their duties. Their hearts were leaning elsewhere, to the path that is 'righteous' to most. Because of that, our family's integrity and safety were in jeopardy. For that, I went to talk to them. But when they refused to oblige and straight on rebelled, I had no option but to carry on with the traditions and practices this family has held on for years.

"Last night, Ozhan, Abeerah, and Yazaan met their ends. They're no longer among us, may they find peace in the afterlife."

Gasps filled the air while men stood stoically. It was not the death of their family members that upset them. It was the fact that it was so easy for their mother and grandmother to get rid of her grandsons, who she'd seemed to love the most.

"They've been buried and forgotten." Just like that, it was over. "Who'll lead the family now, i'll decide later. I'm going to rest now."

She went to Ozhan's room, Zulfiqar trailing behind her. Ozhan's room was the darkest in the mansion. Not filled with dull colors like in Yazaan's room. Yazaan hadn't cared to design his room, not giving a thought to fill it with the reflection of his inside. Unlike Ozhan. Ozhan had poured all the darkness inside him into the walls of his sanctuary. Hoping that seeing it every day, he would be reminded not to be like that. To control the shadows. To rein in the demons.

No one knew how much he'd succeeded.

"Was that convincing enough?" She asked mockingly without looking at Zulfiqar.

"It will have to do."

She went to Ozhan's walk-in closet and opened the cupboard. Moving the clothes aside, she revealed a safe and stepped aside, allowing Zulfiqar to open it.

He typed in the code Ozhan had texted him and as per his instructions, removed all its contents, which weren't much. Just a bunch of brown folders who weighed nothing.

He closed the locker and went out. Before going, Zulfiqar thought to warn her again.

"Make sure everyone here stays out of the siblings' way Bi Jaan. Ozhan would hate it if he has to come all the way here to finish all of you off. And I can assure you, it will not be pretty."

•~•

After taking Abeerah's headscan, Layeba took her to her office. Sanem joined them too a few moments later and they were enjoying a good coffee as of now.

"Ho gai tasalli aap ko ab? I told you I was fine", Abeerah grumbled, still feeling a bit nauseous from being claustrophobic under the MRI machine.

"Of course you were. Just that you could've had fallen and hurt yourself from vertigo, you could've developed short-term memory loss, and the headache you were feeling before I gave you medicine would have been permanent." Leave it to Layeba to lift someone's spirits.

"Alright, leave everything. Tell me the story between you and her devar, Sanem said excitedly, nodded towards Layeba at the end.

"What? Me and Ozhan? Whatever is there to tell?" Abeerah didn't meet her eye.

Layeba looked at Sanem like she did at her best friend half the time --- like she was a crackhead.

"Oh don't tell me you haven't noticed Layeba!"

"What?" Layeba asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Uf! You're hopeless!" Sanem slapped her forehead in frustration. "Well, your bhabhi is inattentive. But it hasn't gone past my radar the fact that you've reduced loverboy's name to just his name and cut off the lala."

Abeerah went redder than tomato. Really, having tanned skin was such a blessing. People didn't know when you were embarrassed. Unlike Abeerah's snow whitey complexion.

Layeba and Sanem burst out laughing, reminiscing the time when they used to make fun of their good White friend during their residency back in the States.

"Okay, spill Abeerah. You're not getting out of Sanem's clutches on this one", Layeba said.

"Of course she's not."

"Well. . ." Abeerah started. "I told him how I felt and he said he reciprocated the feelings."

"FINALLY!" Sanem exclaimed. "Though that was the most driest 'spilling the tea' of history."

"Wait, hold on! You told him?!" Layeba asked with wide eyes. Though was she shocked or proud, no one could tell. "I'm sooooo proud of you, girl!" Proud, she was then. "That idiot would have never confessed!"

"Hey!" Abeerah cried out, insulted on Ozhan's account. Layeba gave her a look portraying, 'what? You now gonna ask me to mind my language regarding those literal idiots?' and that was enough to shut Abeerah up.

"So," Sanem clapped her hands loudly once. "Looks like we're having a double wedding!"

"What?" Abeerah squeaked, while Layeba yelled, "No!"

Abeerah and Sanem both looked at Layeba in shock. "What do you mean, No?"

"What I meant was, there won't be a double wedding. Abeerah won't be getting married for at least a whole year."

"Why won't I be?" Abeerah asked, her expression wounded, which was amusing to both friends.

"Oye hoye, so eager!" Sanem teased.

"A couple of reasons. First. Yazaan would take care of all your wedding, that's not gonna happen for at least four months. Then, madam. You have to complete your degree before further commitments. I'm not allowing you to waste the opportunity presented to you. And. . ."

"And other than that, no other reason is going to keep me from her. So, don't even try, Bhabhi", Ozhan cut off Layeba as he entered her room.

"You know, you violated about a hundred ethical rules there. You entered without knocking, not caring about our privacy. You eavesdropped. You cut me off. You. . ."

"Oh shut up, Layeba." Three guesses on who could shut her up like that. That's right. Doctor Sanem! "What are you here for, Ozhan?"

"I have some things to discuss with my brother's wife over there", he replied, leaning against the doorframe.

Layeba furrowed her brows. Whatever could it be? Her mind thought of all the possible things, but couldn't come up with anything. She checked the time. It was 9:54 a.m.

"Can it wait? My first appointment is here."

Ozhan nodded. "I'll be beside Lala. Tell me when you're free."

"Sure."

Just then Mohsin knocked and entered, announcing, "Your ten o'clock is here."

Everyone left Layeba, and she was left with her curiosity and a patient.

•~•

Assalam o alaikum! How are you all?💞

Did you guys like the chapter? How was it? I know I said I would write the lighter chapters but I felt like this was much needed. ☺️

Make sure to read the part of Yazaan's emotions completely. I realized despite him being my main male protagonist, he was getting the least . . . screen time? Reading time? Whatever. I was writing him the least. So I decided to write a glimpse inside his mind. 🤭

Now on a serious note, first of all. I would like to thank all of you. All of you have been very supportive of the story and me from the very start. And for that, I love you all❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰🥰 But! (There's always a 'but', isn't there?) I would like to say that please if you don't like my book, don't read it. If something's disturbing for you, despite my warning, tell me about it, and i'll make sure to look into it. If you think I've COPIED someone's work, please direct me to that story or writer. Don't just go around accusing someone or saying bad things about me or my story. I beg you.

I've always welcomed constructive criticism. You guys point out my mistakes or tell me what you don't like about the story or in a character, and I always gratefully welcomed those. I love that. But when someone straight on says my story sucks or I've copied it or it's all the same, that really hurts. I know it sucks, but I didn't force you to read it. And as for copying it, please, just tell me which book or drama and I promise you, this won't be on this platform tomorrow.

Phew! Ok. That was just me ranting out to some private messages I received on Wattpad. It wasn't directed to any of you amazing folks🥰😘❤️❤️

That being said, now that the plot is more or less finished, I would like to ask your opinions and ideas on what scenes you'd like to see between Layeba and Yazaan or Abeerah and Ozhan. No matter how clichè they are.😉 I would love to write what you guys suggest apart from what I've planned as well😌

Also, if someone could please be helpful and tell me if I've forgotten to explain something in the story I introduced earlier in the story, that would be really appreciated🥴💞🥺 cuz maine itne raite phelaye the k ab to yaad b nai hain😁🤪

That's all.

Please vote ⭐ comment 🖋️ share and follow.

Thank you💜💜💜
Lots of love❤️❤️❤️
Javeria.