His eyes closed on their own as fingers worked on his scalp and the pain slowly started to subside. He had been on edge for the past week and this headache was a constant. He didn't know exactly what the reason was but he just wanted it to end.

"My son, you should get married now. You are way past the ideal marriage age, so don't think of stalling now", Bi jaan said in Pashto. His grandmother was a really old woman with wrinkles all over her body and weak bones but her voice held authority.

"Bi jaan. I really don't want to get married. Don't you like my peace? Why do you want to make my life more miserable?", he groaned, hiding his face against her stomach.

"Shush! A woman doesn't make your life miserable. She comes in your nikah and completes half of your deen."

Deen? Religion? He has already done so many crimes, so many gunah that this reason doesn't seem plausible to him. Yet with the idea of marriage, a certain doe-eyed hijabi came into his mind.

It had been a week since he had safely escorted the girls to Lahore. After that night, he hadn't seen her. When they'd reached Hunza, he had ordered fifteen of his men to watch over them from afar.

His eyes longed to see her. But he forced himself to forget about her. He knew she would never want to be with him. She hated being in the same room as him. Seeing her running away from him that day broke something inside him.

Many people would say how could he feel that way, he just saw her for one day. But he was in love with her. And it wasn't even love at first sight. It was love at first hearing. And he wasn't the person to deny his feelings. When he told Ozhan how he felt three days ago, he told him that what he felt was ishq. And he didn't take long to grasp this explanation.

He was in a constant battle with himself. If he loved her, should he let her go for her happiness? Because for an ashiq, the mehboob's happiness is always the top priority, isn't it? Or should he be selfish and get his apprentice? That's how he always dealt with things. But in the end, he let it be knowing that, You'll never have to chase what God has already planned for you.

"Who is that girl?"

"Huh?"

"I know that look, son. You're in love. Tell me who is she?"

"I-"

"Arre, Bi jaan. Kya bataoon apko? Kitni haseen dulhan dhoondi hai apke pote ne. Bilkul chaand ka tukra. Yun bari bari aankhein, gulabi gaal, gori ranget. MashaAllah! Uper se naek bhi hai", he was cut of by Ozhan who came into the room without knocking and jumped on the bed, supporting his head with his hand.

(What do i tell you? How beautiful of a bride has your grandson found. Like a part of moon. Big doe eyes, rosy cheeks, fair complexion. On top of that, she's religious as well.)

"MashaAllah! I want to meet her. I'll take your rishta for her right away."

"Bakwas kar raha hai ye bi jaan. Is ki baat ka yaqeen na karein", he said hitting him with a pillow.

(He's talking rubbish. Don't believe his words.)

"Oh! My bad. Then i think you will have no problem if she says yes to the proposal she's receiving tonight?" Ozhan's tone, expressions, all screamed of smugness.

What? Sh-she's getting married? No! I didn't even have the chance to tell her how much i love her.

"Bi jaan! We're leaving for Lahore tomorrow morning."

Fuck following the typical rules of non-existent lover's guide. He would do things Yazaan Ibraheem Khan's style.

~

"Being a doctor doesn't only mean saving lives. Its so much more than that. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from breaking down in front of your patient's relatives, telling them that their loved one is not anymore. You have to face the reality that there are some diseases for which modern science still doesn't have cure for. Sometimes you have to tell the parents that their child is suffering from a disease you can do nothing about. That no matter what, their child is going to die so soon that he won't even get a chance to pursue his dreams.

"Sometimes, you have to fight your own self, telling yourself that the patient wasn't meant to live anymore. That it was not your fault that the person is no more. Being a doctor is a constant battle with your own self. Sometimes you're crying yourself to sleep, the next day you have to put on a brave face going through it again", her voice broke. Taking a deep breath, she continued:

"Sometimes its about taking risks. Knowing there is only a little probability of the survival of patient if undergone through a surgery but still operating him. And trust me, conquering the whole world is nothing compared to that one saved life. The happiness that comes with knowing that because of you, a person will live a pain-free healthy life is beyond measure."

Her eyes sweeped on different new faces. The future doctors, InshaAllah. She was called on to give a welcoming speech to the undergraduates of Pakistan's top medical college.

She ended her speech with a few more words and got off the podium. Paying her regards to the principal, professors and other guests, she exited the hall.

She picked up her phone which was ringing in her bag for the past fifteen minutes.

"Assalam-o-Alaikum ammi. What is it?"

"WaAlaikumAssalam beta, when are you getting home?"

"Umm- like in twenty minutes or so?"

"Beta! I told you there were guests coming! Hurry up. Be at home as soon as possible!"

Shit! Those Rishta people! Damn!

"Yes, mama. Just coming. Allah hafiz."

She walked to her car as fast as she could without running. She just prayed that her mother wouldn't be furious for being late. Which was alot to wish for, considering she was a wife of an Army General and she hated tardiness.

She pulled her car out of the driveway and dialed her assistant, Mohsin. He picked up on the second ring with a salam which she replied back.

"Mohsin, tell me my schedule."

"I had your schedule cleared for today. Today is the big day."

"It's at three, right?"

"Yes. I'll prepare the OT and talk to Abu Bakr too."

"Great. Now report me on the yesterday's patient. Shazia, was it?"

Abu Bakr was her twelve year old patient. He had a tumor in his brain which was referred to as Glioblastoma Multiforme. Its the most aggressive type of cancer and was really difficult to treat. Without the surgery, survival chances were just three months. With it, they were five years. There were so many probabilities of collateral damage that when she had discussed it with her professor back in USA, he had advised her not to do this surgery. But her mother had begged her to operate her son and that if anything happens, she will take the full responsibility. She had melted seeing the mother's pain and agreed to take yet another battle.

As the surgery was at three p.m. , there were five hours for her to relax and prepare. Her plan was to go home, meet the guests, take a nap and then go to the hospital.

~

"Ammi, why do you even let such people enter your house? Aise khaandan main mjhe shaadi karni hoti to main America main koi gora na phasa leti? Meri success nazar nai aa rahi or mere hijab par masla hai. Waah! Main bata rahi hun agli dafa koi aisa banda aya na to us ko salaad k patte b nai poochne maine!"

(If i wanted to marry in a family like this, wouldn't have i married a white person in America? They don't see my success and they have a problem with my hijab. Wow! I'm telling you, if someone like this came ever again, i won't even offer salad leaves let alone a three-course meal.)

"Layeba, it has been two hours since they left", Shiza said, exasperated and amused at the same time.

"Jo bhi hai. How can she even ask me if i will continue wearing my hijab. Like seriously!?"

"Yes, you've already said that three hundred times."

"Ap mjhse poocho kitna kama leti ho-"

(You could've asked me how much i earn-)

"As if that would've been an acceptable question for you", Shiza said under her breath but she still heard it.

"Ofcourse it wouldn't have! However much i earn is none of their business! Taking care of a woman is a man's job. All i'm saying is that there are a thousand things you could ask me other than my hij-"

"Api. Ammi. There are some people at the door. They're asking for you, ammi", Arsalan came and informed them. Her rambling stopped on seeing him. She hadn't forgiven him completely on hiding things and lying and he had added more things on the list. And this time things that were haram.

When Shiza had told Layeba about Arsalan's behaviour, she didn't know whether she should be furious or hurt. She had talked to him and tried to make him understand softly because she knew anger wasn't going to help here and he had promised he won't do it again. But her heart wasn't ready to forgive him.

"Alright, i'll look. You go bring the groceries with the list i gave you."

He nodded and was out the door before she could even blink.

"You stay here, Mama. I'll look", and she went down the hallway towards the front door.

There was an old lady standing there. Even though the woman had a smile on her face, she looked stern and strict.

"Jee? (Yes?)", she couldn't recognize the woman but her sharp green eyes seemed familiar. She didn't have to remain perplexed for long. Another girl whose face she knew really well appeared in the door with a large bouquet of red roses in her hands.

"A-abeerah? What are you doing here?" Her eyes grew wide and fear entered her system. If Abeerah was here, then that means-

"Won't you invite us in, doctor?" Her face paled. There he stood. Yazaan Ibraheem Khan. In all his six feet two glory, wearing a black shalwar qameez and black peshawari chappal, an expensive looking silver watch on his wrist and hair perfectly styled back. He looked all like the intimidating pathan that he was.

Ya Allah! What are these people doing here?

"Um- may i know why you're here?", her gaze settling on the old lady again.

"We're here to speak with your mother, dear."

"M-my mother? Oh! Yes. M-mama is a bit tired. You can come back again later."

Yazaan's eyes narrowed and irritation flowed through his nerves. No matter how much he loved this girl, his ego wouldn't let anyone put him down. Before he could do anything, Ozhan, who was standing beside him wearing a suit, moved his coat to the side and said,

"I think your mother can rest later, can't she?"

The sight of gun in Ozhan's waistband was enough to make her gulp and she stepped aside from the door, letting them in.

"A-Ammi. Ye wo l-log hain jinke baare maine aap ko bataya tha. H-hunza main jo rehte thay", she had already told her mother about all those events and just the word Hunza was enough for Shiza to know who she was referring to.

Other than Shiza's slightly wide eyes, nothing gave away her fear. She directed the guests toward the drawing room and said to her,

"Layeba, go bring refreshments for our guests, beta."

She understood what Shiza meant and hurried towards the kitchen after nodding her head vigourously.

Taking her phone from the counter, she speed dialed Sanem. It went on voicemail so quickly said,

"Sanem! Yazaan Ibraheem Khan's here. Please tu jaldi se pol-", and her phone was snatched away from her. Wide-eyed, she looked as her phone was smashed onto the granite shelve. A shudder ran through her body at the loud noise and her hands went to her mouth.

"Arre, Dr. Layeba. You really didn't need to do that, now did u? Yazaan Lala is here to ask for your rishta and you are calling for police. Now that's not nice, is it?" Ozhan's eyes hinted at none of the amusement with which he spoke.

She swallowed. Fear coursing through her veins. Rishta? Out of all the things that she could've thought for a reason, this was not one of them.

"W-what kind of a-a sick joke is it?"

"The kind at which nobody laughs, doctor", Ozhan said it with a sardonic smile. "Now, we really don't need fake hospitality. So, shall we?"

Layeba timidly walked infront of Ozhan and into the living room where her mother sat entertaining the guests. Being a wife of an Army General taught Shiza to deal with her fear really well.

A silent conversation passed between Yazaan and Ozhan about what happened in the kitchen.

Layeba stood behind the one-seat sofa where her mother was sitting and Ozhan stood leaning against the wall behind the three-seat sofa where Yazaan, Abeerah and Bi Jaan were sitting.

"Let me come straight to the point, Shiza beti. My grandson really likes your daughter and we would like to ask for her hand in marriage."

Her breath hitched. This mafia lord likes me? Shiza shared her surprise and turned her head to look her in the eye.

Her wide eyes screamed what Shiza already knew never even doubted. Ammi, i swear i didn't do anything!

"Ahm....this was really unexpected", Shiza laughed nervously. "I respect that you came all the way to Lahore for my daughter but...you see", she swallowed. "I want someone....religious for my daughter and someone who is...noble."

Her knuckles turned white from the force with which she was gripping the back of the sofa.

Ya Allah! Please let him accept it and go from here. Please don't make a scene. Please.

Bi Jaan sat there with a confused and awkward smile because Shiza had turned her down without even considering it. A smirk graced Ozhan's face and it scared her. A smile which didn't reach his eyes, broke into Yazaan face and his eyes held so much malice that she shut her eyes tightly, refusing to look at him.

"Aunty, how can you refuse without taking your daughter's feelings into account? Your daughter likes me as well, and i'm sure she won't turn me down after what i told her in my house." What remaining blood she had in her face left. Yazaan knew he had got her there.

Or maybe the mall they step into will blow up?....should we test the new bombs?

Sanem's scared face as Ozhan held a gun on her temple came to her mind.

Maybe someone will enter their home in Valencia Town and kill them?

She felt suffocated. Could she really jeopardize her family's lives? What if its just an empty threat?

Ya Allah! Please help me.

She opened her eyes and looked straight into his. If it were any other situation, she would've found him handsome and would've been ready to drown in those green pools. But right now, all she saw was a beast looking at whom gave her nothing but disgust and fear.

And this person claims he likes me? As if he is even capable of soft feelings.

"A-ammi...there are n-no such feelings for him. D-do what you m-must", she said with resolve. She wouldn't let anyone blackmail her. Allah is the greatest of all. No one can hurt someone if He wishes to protect him and no one can save someone if He wishes otherwise. She just had to handle the situation right now. Right after they leave, she will call her father's best friend, who was also an Army General and ask for her family's safety.

Yazaan's eyebrows rose. His eyes seemed to laugh at her. It was as if he knew what she was thinking and he wished to reply her with, you're highly mistaken if you think that i'm leaving here without you.

He scratched the corner of his brow and a laugh escaped his lips. Yet there was nothing amusing about the situation. He stood up and freed his kameez of any creases. The mere act was enough to make anyone nervous and the taunting smirk on Ozhan's face was just a cherry on top.

"And to think, Doctor Layeba, that people learn from their mistakes."

He took a few steps and stood in front of her. Her mother and Abeerah stood up too and Bi Jaan sat there just praying that he doesn't do anything stupid. But she knew it was futile. She wasn't saying anything because when he wants something, not even her could stop him.

"Now, i'm going to ask you one more time. Will.you.marry.me?" He had dropped his voice a few notches and the throaty deep edge to his voice made him sound more dangerous.

Her eyes wide and heart in her mouth, she vigourously shook her head.

A scoff escaped Ozhan's mouth. It was as if he knew exactly how things were going to end up. And he was enjoying the beast playing with his prey far too much.

"You will become my wife."

"N-never", she said, shaking her head, tears filling her eyes.

"You will marry me, Dr. Layeba. And since you refused me so many times, now you will marry me today."

"No!"

"You.will."

"NO!", pearl shaped tears rolled down her cheeks from wide doe eyes, leaving no smears or streaks. They were those besaakhta tears that escape your eyes no matter what, because you were just so mentally exhausted. But she didn't cry. Not yet.

"You will, Dr. Layeba", he mused.

"Not in this life. Not in a million years. Please just go", her eyebrows furrowed and her face contorted in distress.

His lips stretched into a lips showing the pearly white, straight teeth but there was no glee in it. His eyes were lit with something so evil that everyone in the room grew restless, even Ozhan despite the smirk on his face.

"Oh, but you will, Doctor. You just have to accept it sooner rather than later so you we all are saved from me doing something extremely stupid that you will hate me more than you already do."

She was breathing heavily now.

"No.I.will.not.marry.you. Can you just fucking leave?!"

His smile died faster than wisps of smoke dissipated after a candle flame has been snuffed out. In the next moment, a gun was in his hand and he was pointing it at, not her because he had promised himself he would never do it again. No, he was pointing it at her mother, whom he also planned to make his mother-in-law.

"You will become my wife or i will kill your mother. And you know i won't hesitate to pull the trigger."

The wind was knocked out from her lungs.

"Yazaan beta, what are you doing? Drop the g-" He cut Bi Jaan off with his other hand.

"Your choice, Doctor."

"Please, don't do this", her voice barely a whisper.

"Hurry up, Doctor." He removed the safety of the gun.

She joined her hands together and pleaded him, "Please. Please, leave my mother out of this."

He placed his pointer finger on the trigger and pressed just a bit.

"I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY, DOCTOR. JUST SAY IT ALREADY!"

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I'LL MARRY YOU. I'LL MARRY YOU. DROP THE GUN."

His expression went from north to south in a nanosecond. One second he was all angry, the other he was as smiling as if he had found the lost treasure. He dropped his hand.

"Excellent! Ozhan? Bring Qazi Sahab from the hotel." With that, he turned and went into their lawn as if he owned the place and Shiza went hurried towards her stunned daughter. Abeerah and Bi Jaan just stood, still trying to grasp what happened.

The dam broke. Her knees went weak and despite her mother holding her, she dropped on the floor. The sobs punched through, ripping through her muscles, bones, and guts. She let her heart yank in and out of her chest. She felt as if her life crumpled in her fingertips.

Her cries were so loud, he heard them even in the lawn. The ugly cries were going to haunt him for life. They say love tames you. You're willing to lay down your life for your mehboob. But even that strong emotion couldn't rein the beast in.

Or was it even love?

~
Assalam-o-Alaikum beautifuls. Hope you're all well and fine.
InshaAllah you will like the chapter but if you don't, please go easy on me since its my first time writing. I tried to proof read it and redeem my mistakes but if you still spot any error, please let me know. Criticism is always welcome as long as its not personal attack.
Thank you so much everyone who voted on my previous chapters and for your precious comments.
Please vote and drop your comments.

And yes. This whole story is dramatic so please bear with it.

That's all.
Have a great day.
Stay safe.
Allah Hafiz.