Jahan's meeting room was in complete disarray. To-do lists, checklists, schedules, budget calculations, PowerPoint presentations, mood boards, flowsheets, and whatnot. For a person whose family dealt with this chaos daily, he was sure getting the first-hand experience of it, a whole new world, as Aladdin had aptly said.

AJ's team, Jahan's event coordinators, the production management crew, the security team, and branding partners; the inside of the meeting space depicted a small village. Aahil tried his best to keep up but with so much going on, that was an uphill task. If his face didn't show, his body language sure did that he was a novice here, stark opposite to the person with whom he was supposed to be working as a team.

She was sitting between Nawar and Ajwa. Her folder was opened in front of her, she was going through a checklist on the tablet, all the while giving instructions to someone on the phone, taking care of various tasks simultaneously. This was Sila's domain and she was good, the best if he was being honest. Ajwa wasn't kidding when she nominated her as an asset to her company.

ACHC consisted of three major parts; a conference of the stakeholders, international agencies, and national partners followed by the main event and then a celebratory dinner party. The breakdown was simple: the conference was to satisfy the big fishes, the main event was the actual gain they were all in pain for right now and the post-event party was just for networking. Aahil had gathered that by then. He conveyed that much to Sila who gave him a thumbs-up. See, he was getting the hang of the things. Not so bad, after all. The next few days wouldn't be so hard, he was almost hopeful.

"Once our preliminary work is done, we will start working on our contracts with different vendors," Sila said aloud and everyone nodded along. The basic plan for the next few days was in front of them. Everyone knew their duties. As the meeting dispersed, Aahil got up and took Ajwa's seat she had just vacated. Sila looked sideways at him as she scrolled through her tablet. Aahil peeked at it. There were more event planning-related apps than he could count, along with her own to-do lists. Her phone was placed right next to it, buzzing with WhatsApp texts. She was currently engrossed in composing a mail. Close to her, different signage designs were stacked for approval. Aahil whistled softly. "You are a perfectionist."

Sila shook her head, looking away from the tablet screen for a second. "If you were into this for as long as I've been, you'd know one wrong or miscalculated move will act like a domino effect. I'm just not in the favor of taking chances."

"That's what a perfectionist does. How long have you been in this line of work, by the way?" He asked, taking the signage designs in his hand. He took one out, gave it a critical look, glanced at Sila, and then both of them shook their heads, tossing it aside.

"Almost six years, more or less. What about you? Your lack of background information screams that it's your first proper event but I'm not buying it. It's your family business. You can't be that detached from something you can be shit at and still make a living out of it. Nepo baby privilege."

"Back to insults, I see. I thought we agreed on a truce just a few hours back." He mock-glared at her making her smile lightly. "A genuine question, Aahil."

He gave it a thought and shrugged. "You are on to something, I guess. It is the first proper event at our hotel that I'm involved in. Nepo baby privilege? Yes, maybe."

She looked mildly surprised. It didn't make sense to her. He had never been involved in Jahan? When he didn't have to be even good at it. If he messed up, no one was going to fire him. He was too lost in himself, disconnected from his reality, or was his reality entirely something else? Being a travel blogger? She was about to ask but then thought against it. It was none of her business but ACHC was and she needed to get back to working on it.

"Faran Bhai just texted. I gotta go." Aahil got up. Sila watched him leave through the door. It was oddly comforting to her that they didn't have any altercation in the past few hours. A nice change. They channeled their energy into the work assigned to them, a first for them. This truce was going fine. They hadn't felt the urge to rip each other a new one, small mercies in life.

She went back to the basic layout she was working on. She moved to the D-day plan. The branding campaign was already in motion for the slots available. The publicity draft was ready to be dispersed and the social media teams were already spreading the word. She opened the ticketing process and then the artist list for the concert Jahan was especially organizing as an added attraction. She gave it a critical look. She had been mailed this just an hour back by Nawar. Sila's eyebrow scrunched. She placed the tablet on the table and turned to Nawar who was immersed in her own laptop.

"Mrs. Nawar, can I have a second?"

Nawar gave her a disapproving look. "Sila, we talked about this. It's just Nawar. Please."

"Okay, Nawar. I want to discuss the concert artist list with you." She pointed at her tablet where she had opened the email. Nawa bent down to have a better look.

"The lineup looks great but as per Mr. Jahangir's briefing the other day, we need to go all out, and having number pullers on the concert will be a wise move on her our part."

Nawar looked confused. "Are they not number pullers?"

Sila shook her head. "No, No. They are. They definitely are. I'm just saying if our selling point is crowd pullers, why haven't we included Zarrar Hassan in the lineup?"

Nawar's face immediately fell. Sila waited for her to answer her query. Zarrar was, right now, one of the most famous music figures in Pakistan. Not having him on board seemed absurd to her. It wasn't like Jahan couldn't afford him. The budget of ACHC was hefty. Then why they didn't think of it? Sila was confused.

"I should've made it clear to you. My bad." Nawar smiled politely but it didn't reach her eyes. "But the thing is, Jahan doesn't have any professional ties with Zarrar Hassan."

"What?" That took Sila by surprise. Nawar nodded. "Yes, we don't...I mean Jahan doesn't associate with Zarrar Hassan."

"Is he blacklisted?" Sila didn't remember coming across any such news. Zarrar was among the elites of elites, and so were the Jahan's owners. If there was some issue between them, the news would be all over the media.

"No, nothing like that. It's something that's just there. Like Jatoi and Jahangir rivalry." Nawar didn't meet her eye as she said that. Sila was no fool. She had understood by then that something was there Nawar didn't want to disclose. Okay then. She wanted to know why a super successful artist wasn't on the list for the concert and she got her answer. Rest wasn't her business.

"Alright. Thanks for clearing out my confusion, though." Sila told her, as she went back to her work. Nawar contemplated something for a few seconds and then spoke.

"I'll appreciate it if you don't mention it in front of Aahil."

Sila's confusion showed on her face but she nodded, nonetheless. Aahil? Suddenly his reaction to Zarrar flashed into her mind the first time they had an argument on the road. Argh, classic Aahil. Though she didn't know the actual thing, it again got proven that Aahil Jahangir had a beef going on with every other person. God bless him.

𝄞

Amal glared at the man sitting opposite her without any subtlety. Professor Inam Uddin was unperturbed, though. He looked up from his laptop screen and gave her a smile. If Amal were a naive freshie, she would've believed his proverbial Raj Aryan aura. But she wasn't a freshie and she certainly, wasn't naive. Moreover, Inam Uddin had nothing on the dreamy music teacher from Mohabbatein. For starters, where Raj Aryan helped his students thrive in their love lives, Iman Uddin worked to sabotage every notion of a love life, social life, or any kind of life for his students. His strategy was swarming them with so much work, that they'd have no time for anything else.

"I believe Sami mentioned that I have a task for you."

Amal's mood worsened. Sami, who was preparing for his next lecture in the other corner of the office, smirked.

"He did. But I also have to mention here that I'm already working on the revision of the SSC10. 'This course doesn't really cover south Asia's history' your words, not mine. Then I'm grading assignments for the Anglo-Indian narrative. Your students are taking it as a story-writing competition rather than a history course. The fiction I have to read while grading their assignment, I can't even say. Told you, you need to change the instructor."

She watched Sami from her peripheral vision and surely, his smirk was gone. His lips were pursed in a thin line. Take that. She hated nothing more than Inam Uddin and Sami teaming up against her. Sami, the hypocrite always talked shit about Inam Uddin but when it came to conspiring with him to make her work overtime, he was always all game. Did she mention the guy was a major a-hole?

"You can give the course revision to Naila. The assignments won't take the whole week, I presume. What's the state of your workload now?"

Amal didn't know whether to be offended or take a sigh of relief. Inam Uddin just eased her work? A dire situation needed dire actions. She chose to indignantly stay quiet. Inam Uddin nodded. "Seems like you have enough time now. Which brings me to why I've called you here."

He leaned forward. His stance was all business. Amal also became alert. Her dislike for the ma aside, he was her supervisor and she couldn't afford to be on his bad side, more than she already was.

"I recently got a call from my professor from MSU. We talked for a bit and reminisced about the good times."

MSU, Morehead State University in Kentucky, his alma mater and the one topic he could rave on the day in and out. Seeing Amal was attentive, he continued. "He asked a favor of me and since I still consider myself his student, seeing I owe a lot to him for where I'm today, I ensured him that everything will be taken care of."

Amal scoffed. He owned the man every hair on his bald head. Was that her problem? But she kept the retort to herself.

"Someone he knows personally is traveling to Pakistan for the research for his book. He has requested I receive the guy and introduce him to the people who can help him in his work."

"What the book is about?"

Inam Uddin's lips curled up into a smile. "This is where things get interesting. He is going to write about Karachi. Its demographics and urban disparity. I think I have a student under my supervision named Amal Rafiq whose Ph.D. thesis is more or less on the same topic."

Right on target. He had played his cards. Amal narrowed her eyes. "What if I refuse? Collecting material for a book takes time and I don't have much of that to give for free. You won't pay me, obviously. I'm halfway through my research anyway. I don't think helping a white man is going to do much to my resume."

Inam Uddin didn't look, please. "He's not white. I'll appreciate it if you don't talk about him in a condescending way. He is a friend and very dedicated to his work. It's not me who will be paying you, though. He is. He has offered money to whoever aids him in his research. I had you in my mind because your work is more or less on the same line. Sami and Naila's thesis topics don't align with his book, not even remotely. So, consider it a task from your supervisor and get to it. I won't entertain any excuses."

Ah, here he was. The assertive no-nonsense man who just knew how to get work out of the people working under him. Amal knew she had no choice but to say yes but in a way, Inam Uddin hadn't been that off with this scheme. She would get paid and also, and she would have more endeavors to look through for her research. It wasn't so bad. Yes, she'd have to work with Inam Uddin's friend. If he was just like her supervisor, that'd be a tragedy but guess she'd have to see where this goes.

"Okay, I'm in. Choosing from so many options was surely not easy but here we go."

Inam Uddin ignored her sarcasm. She was on board, that was his main concern. He nodded. "He lands in Pakistan on Tuesday. You will take Usman along and pick him up from the airport."

Amal nodded with a sigh. So, it begins. Let's see how it goes.

𝄞

It was the first proper family dinner after Farman's wedding. Najia called her when she was in the office as a reminder. It wasn't like it slipped from Rameen's mind, anyway. As soon as she got off work, she took a ride to PECSH and reached her family home.

The familiar cacophony that was a part of everything her family did was welcoming. Mehreen, Farman's wife got along well with everyone so far. Rameen wasn't surprised by it, her family knew how to make people feel at home and Mehreen was now part of the family as well.

Skipping Bushra and her sons whenever there was any occasion at her place wasn't Bushra's thing. So, as per the norm, Bushra and Dareer were also around. Rameen's worry began when Danish also joined them all.

Apart from their initial greetings, Rameen had successfully evaded having any kind of conversation with him. But for how long, especially when he seemed to be determined to talk? That would explain why he followed her to Ramna's room when Rameen went there to put her phone on charge.

"Reen, I really need to talk to you."

Rameen shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Danish. When I know what you have to talk about."

Hurt shone in his eyes. "I'm also your friend. You can't just shut me out like this."

"I'm not shutting you out. Do you want to talk about anything else than your and Sila's relationship? I'm up for it. But not that, Danish. I promised Sila I won't interfere and try to sort this mess for you. The mess you've created, by the way."

His shoulder slumped. He nodded solemnly. "I know. It's mainly my fault. I don't deny it."

"It's not about denying or accepting it. It's time to do something about it. What? That's for you and Sila to decide."

Saying that she patted his shoulder and moved to the door when she heard his defeated whisper. "I deliberately didn't tell her about my trip to Islamabad."

Rameen stopped and looked at him questionably. "I went there to meet Uncle Basit. No one knows. Ammi and Dareer think that I accompany him and Rafay for the campus tour. That's half the truth."

He paused, as if what he was going to say next physically hurt him. Rameen took a step forward, close to him. "I...I needed money."

He finally looked up at her. "I met him for that. It's so pathetic that I don't think I regret not telling Sila or hiding it from my mother and brother."

Oh, Danish. Rameen knew one thing Danish cherished more than his career was his self-respect. He was a self-made guy. Since the beginning of his university life, he had to fend for himself and then life for him became harder after his father's death.

"Dareer is going to university this year and I want him to have nothing but his career on his mind. He's a bright kid, Reen. He deserves to have a shot at the best academic life. My parents sent me to the best academic institute in Karachi. This is the least I can do for my brother, now that he doesn't have a father he can turn to. I owe Ammi and Dareer that."

Rameen held his arm. He gave her a waned smile. "There's just so much going on in my life, Reen. There's Dareer's career. Then Ammi refuses to leave her job stating that it's necessary for our finances. My job isn't enough to cover everything. The reason why I keep on taking up every gig I can get my hands on. Then there's Sila."

He shook his head, ruefully. "She's...perfect, Reen. Always have been, and always will be. I'm not jealous of her. Not in the slightest. She was always meant to succeed in whatever she had her eyes on. It's not about her. It's about me. She's talking about the future and what it holds when I'm stuck in my present."

"Then tell her, Danish. Do you think she won't understand? It's Sila we are talking about. The last person to judge for something like this."

She prompted but Danish chose to stay quiet. Rameen observed his body language. Her mind instantly shouted. Insecure. Danish was insecure in his relationship. He did say that he wasn't jealous of Sila but opening up to her about his financial struggles when she was doing so well in her career wasn't easy for him. If it was, he hadn't damaged their relationship as had had.

"Danish," She uttered his name softly. He kept his head bent. Rameen felt someone squeeze her heart. Seeing him is torn like this wasn't easy for her.

"You will ruin everything this way, Danish." She muttered. "I promised Sila that I won't try to sort your issues but what do I do with you? You'll waste away in your own misery without saying a word to her. You'll lose her in the process. Try to talk to her, Danish. That's the only way through this. Just once think of her as the same Sila who was your close friend before you both got into a relationship. If you can talk to me, why not her?"

This was the least she could do. This was the only thing she could do. Danish slowly looked up at her. Rameen nodded as if telling him to go for it. Would he? She had no clue, just hope in her heart that not all was lost.

𝄞

Staying calm while negotiating a contract had always been Alina's thing. Rimsha hadn't been wrong when she said Shani and Neha were considering her to be Rimsha's stylist for the movie. She got the call that evening itself. Neha and Shani invited her to their studio to talk about the details and what they wanted from her in the project along with signing the contract.

As decided, she was here right on time, spirits high and confidence intact. But no one prepared her to come face to face with an impassive Osama Siddiqui. Neha gushed about him being the director of their new venture and Alina felt she wouldn't be able to say anything for a while.

Their work lines weren't so apart from each other. They moved in the same circle. Aahil and Mahad were a permanent part of both of their lives. Not running into each other wasn't a possibility. But occasionally finding each other in close vicinity was one thing and being part of the same project was another. But Shani and Neha were a big thing in the entertainment industry. It was an opportunity Alina didn't want to miss out on. And by Osama's expressions, it seemed like he wasn't keen on letting any personal affiliation with each other come in between the work. If he did, he wouldn't have chosen to stay silent when Neha asked if they knew each other before because she had seen them with Aahil and Mahad once.

"Here."

Alina extended the signed contract to Neha who looked giddy to have her on board. Shani and Osama moved to the other side of the studio. Shani needed his opinion on some changes in the script. While Neha and Alina talked about their respective professions and the people they worked with on daily basis.

Soon, it was time to go. Alina bade her bye to Neha and nodded in Shani's way as she made her way out of their studio. She was close to the gate when she felt a feathery touch on her ankle. Her eyes widened. Heart thudding, she looked down and as she had expected, an energetic labrador retriever looked in her direction and barked enthusiastically.

Her immediate reaction was to shriek loudly and take as many steps away as possible. Her fear of dogs emerged right on the surface. The dog looked offended, he was an oversized sweet thing, not at all used to such treatment. Alina raised her hand and looked around. "I'm sorry but I really can't pat you." She almost pleaded. The dog heard her as if he could understand her plight. Then he looked ready to bulldoze everything in his way toward her. Another yelp as Alina took a step back, hitting someone's front. She whipped around. Osama looked between her and the Dog and then shook his head slightly.

"You know I can't help it!" Alina groaned. As if the Dog agreed with Osama's disappointment, he took a step in their direction. Alina planted herself to Osama, trying to hide. He stiffened for a beat. Their eyes collided. Osama was the first one to look away. His arms on his side. Alina was clutching onto him for dear life but he stayed put.

"Brudo! You need to behave, big guy!" Osama told Brudo who bobbed his head as if he understood every word. Alina looked at Osama and then at Brudo. "Where did he even come from? He wasn't here when I arrived."

"He was. He gets anxious when he's apart from Shani and Neha for a long time. They spend almost half of their day in the studio so he's always around." Osma replied as he bend down to pat Brudo. Alina's heart melted a bit. She hated herself for having this irrational fear of animals. But she couldn't help it. As with everything else about her, Osama was aware of this fact as well. He kept Brudo occupied. Alina saw the opening and walked away from them, stopping when she was at a reasonable distance.

"Congratulation on getting signing the contract."

Osama mumbled. Alina looked surprised. She hadn't expected him to say anything about it. She nodded. "Yeah. I think I'm going to enjoy it."

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Alina noticed his hesitation but then it dawned on her. "You don't have to worry. We are on the same project but things will move as professionally as they can." She told him.

Osama's brows scrunched. This was surely not what he was about to say. He wanted to ask her if she was fine. Her mother was at her doorstep that night and by experience, he knew that, was never a good thing. But Alina had totally misread him. His face hardened. He looked away.

"I'm not worried about that. It didn't even cross my mind."

Awkward. Alina wanted to vanish from there. "Oh. I...I think I should get going...Bye, Osama."

He glanced at her. "Bye, Alina."

She didn't wait after that. Crossing the gate, she was out in the lane, walking toward her car. The only thought on her mind was of a bespectacled man and how the hell would she work if things were this awkward from here itself.

𝄞

The footage of Faseeh Jahangir's media briefing on the LED screen was the sole focus of every person in the room. Pervaiz Jatoi leaned into his seat, snorting at Faseeh's words. Then his face showed his rage when the topic came of his son's trial.

"Easy, Jatoi Sahab," Akhter reassured him. The footage ended but Pervaiz's fury didn't. No matter how many times they had seen the clip, it would always send Pervaiz into a fit of rage.

"Will you be making any public counter statement, sir?" Pervaiz's PA asked. Akhter Naeem shook his head at that. "No, this word game needs to end."

"Then how do we retaliate?"

Pervaiz leaned into his seat. Then he glanced at Akhter. "Are your man up to what I had asked you to?"

"Yes, Jatoi Sahab. They are working overtime. I can assure you the results will be fantastic. And when they are in our hands, we will strike."

"That gives me some peace otherwise only I know how I'm restraining myself from causing harm to Faseeh Jahangir and his whole family."

"Just wait, sir. Patience is the key here. We will strike when Faseeh Jahangir will be too drunk with his success. He will not even see it coming. But are you sure about what I asked of you? Ali will not appreciate it."

"Ali can shove it. That boy is also one of the reasons I'm in this debacle. Don't care for anything. Just say as I've told you."

"Noted, Sir," Akhter replied. He could already see nothing but utter chaos for Jahangirs and the funny thing for him was, they weren't even prepared.

𝄞

After a tiring day at work, when she got back home, Sila found the girls on the terrace enjoying their tea. She had already filled her mug and joined them, exactly what she needed.

"There you are. Did you finally manage to work on your homicidal tendencies?" Amal asked cheekily. Sila rolled her eyes. Since the night she had a heated argument with Aahil in front of them, Amal hadn't left any chance to tease her.

"He's on good behavior. Three days without any incident. Who did see it coming?" Sila exclaimed, taking a sip of her tea.

"We really didn't. After that PDA, public display of abhorrence, we were sure you will either kill or kiss the hell out of each other."

Haleh mumbled but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Rameen covered her face. Amal tried her best to not burst out laughing but at last, she did. Haleh was unfazed as if she had said nothing.

"You guys are the worst!" Sila grumbled.

"Though I don't agree with half of what Haleh said, it is true, Sila. The guy really pushes your buttons and brings out a version of you, you normally will not show easily." Rameen added thoughtfully. "Your rage that night was something I had never seen before."

"Not my finest moment, I agree."

"It was funny. I thoroughly enjoyed." Amal informed them. Haleh nodded, in agreement. Sila's eyes found paint on Haleh's arm. She raised an eyebrow. "Are you working on something?"

Haleh immediately perked up. "Yes. The art gallery in Clifton is organizing an exhibition of abstract art and classes. I've volunteered for their sessions. It's fun."

"It doesn't look fun, though."

Amal made a face. Haleh swatted her arm."Amal Rafiq, you insult my work and I will unleash my inner monster on you. I swear to God, you will forget Sila's rage."

"If it's supposed to make me fear you, congratulations, you failed miserably. You call it abstract art while it looks like someone dropped paint on the canvas."

"You're just uncultured."

Haleh picked up the empty mugs and made her way downstairs. Amal followed her, in the mood to tease her some more. Sila looked at the night sky as she took another sip of her tea. Rameen's body language suddenly turned to one of agitation. Sila raised an eyebrow at her. "Reen, do you want to say something?"

Rameen opened her mouth but then she thought against it. With a resigned shake of her head, she sat on the ledge also looking at the sky.

𝄞

"I really shouldn't have been excited to have you here." Mahad groaned as he opened his side of the car door. Abgina shrugged, not really seeing his point. "Art doesn't make sense to you isn't my problem, you see."

"Dragging me here is mine, though. You could've come alone."

"Now, where's the fun in that? Besides, you promised you'd make my stay in Karachi worthwhile. Now, suffer."

Mahad's bored expressions didn't do much to deter Abgina. She got to know about the exhibition and art classes in Clifton and she knew she had to visit. That was another thing that she succeeded in taking Mahad along. Bakhtawar was out to meet some of her old friends she hadn't seen in so long.

"I mean, you can say art doesn't make sense to me but what am I supposed to do when it looks just splashes of paint to me?"

"You try to understand it, Mahad. But honestly, one can't do much if you lack the ability to see art for what it is."

"Fair enough, I guess."

They had entered the premises. To one side, an open space was designated for an art display while the other end had several booths where they could see different art-related activities going on. The theme was a kaleidoscope and everything around had an array of different shapes and colors depicting so much.

"I mean look at this," Mahad stopped outside a painting. "What does it say to you."

Abgina gave it a critical look and analyzed it for some seconds. "I think the artists very cleverly tried to show different aspects of love. See, the painting is named kaleidoscope of love." She pointed to the corner. "The pain used is red. On one side, we can see it forming two faces, two lovers. Then on the upper end, its hands intertwined, harmony? Friendship? That's also love. Then on the other side, it's morphing into a tree and flowers, nature? Also, love. Red has predominately been termed the color of love. This is a genius piece of art, Mahad. I think I will buy it."

Mahad's face opened in an expression of disbelief. "Wow, Gina. That's some imagination."

"It's called the sense of art but you won't understand."

"I really don't. To me, this looks like the paint dropped on the canvas and the artist gave it any shape they wanted to."

"God, that's really not it. You should be banned from ever visiting an art exhibition. My bad I took you along."

Abgina was horrified but Mahad was adamant about his case. "Let's see if someone else agrees with my point or yours." He looked around, and soon, found someone who was already coming toward them.

"Hello." Mahad greeted her and without waiting for her to say anything, pointed at Abgina. "My sister thinks that this piece is some in-depth depiction of various forms of love but I think the inspiration behind it was nothing that deep, a dropped bucket of paint? A crime scene? Nothing as poetic as she's making it sound."

The girl's expression changed drastically. From a mild smile to her eyes narrowed and lips into a thin line, she looked about to charge. Mahad was taken aback. "What?"

She breathed deeply. "I think your sister's interpretation is right."

Mahad laughed lightly. "And how do you know that? Maybe, I'm right here? We don't know what was going in the artist's mind."

"The artist is standing in front of you."

She deadpanned. Mahad looked around and then at her. Then he couldn't help his laugh. This was really not what he saw coming. The girl's eyes narrowed some more. Abgina jabbed Mahad into his side to make him shut up. He did, after a few seconds.

"I'm sorry about that."He apologized with twinkling eyes.

"I'm too." The girl replied and before Mahad could understand what she meant by that, she had smeared his pristine white shirt with red paint. Getting done with her work, she took a step back. "I don't know about this," She pointed at her painting. "But for this," She pointed at his shirt, "The inspiration really was a crime scene, asshole!"

Saying that she picked up her painting and started walking away from there. Mahad was rooted to his spot. Abgina didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He looked at his shirt and then at the woman who was now at a reasonable distance from him. Haleh turned back and tucked her hair behind her ear, and in doing so, some of the paint smeared on her cheek as well. As she exited, the bold words of Kaleidoscope: Love blinked overhead, with love shining in the same color with which she had just coated the man and herself as well.

𝄞

Today's agenda was meeting the various supplier companies to discuss the terms with them. The whole day, both of them were out. He drove around and she gave him instructions which he followed to the t, much to her satisfaction.

"We covered more than our to-do list for today," Sila informed him, as they walked toward his car. The office hours were over so, they wouldn't be going back to Jahan. Sila's own vehicle was there in the parking lot but since they were close to her place, Aahil suggested dropping her home which she accepted readily. She had no energy left in her to go back to Jahan and get her car.

"We are not half bad as I expected us to be."

"It depends on your cooperation. The moment you decided to behave, we had things sorted."

"Or when you decided to not lose your calm?"

Sila made a face. "When will you guys drop it? I have said it time and again it wasn't my finest moment."

Aahil grinned. "We? Is there someone else having a gala time reminding you of your demonic moment?"

"My friends. Rameen is normal about it but don't get me started on Haleh and Amal. They are getting a kick out of it just like you."

"Something tells me I will get along well with your friends."

Sila raised her finger in a warning gesture. "Don't even think of it."

"Possessive much? The last time I checked, you had a boyfriend. I don't mess with committed chicks, Sila. Sorry to disappoint."

"Dream on."

He leaned against his car and gave her a thoughtful look. "This brings me to my next question. You haven't broken up with him, have you?"

"Interested much? The last time I checked you didn't mess with committed chicks, Aahil. Sorry to disappoint."

A laugh left his mouth. "Let's get you home."

"Please! I feel like I will collapse any second now. This event is so damn draining."

Aahil unlocked his car. Sila wasted no time in sitting inside but he couldn't do so. There was a prickling on his neck, a feeling of being watched. He looked around but found nothing.

"Are we going or not?"

Sila asked from inside. Aahil gave another look around and finally, on finding nothing, took the driver's seat. In no time, they zoomed away not even realizing that Aahil's hunch was 100 percent right.

𝄞

As soon as they reached Wadia House, both Sila, and Aahil had seen Danish standing outside it. He had also found them by then. His gaze was curious at Aahil. Then as it moved to Sila, it softened considerably. But the scowl on his face didn't ease much.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Sila mumbled to Aahil who nodded in return. She came out of the car and took uncertain steps toward Danish. Aahil had driven back by then.

Sila hadn't anticipated Danish's visit. She felt entirely unprepared for this. She was at a distance of just a few feet from him when her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked at the screen.

The Rich Problem: Don't be easy on him. Make him grovel.

The Rich Problem: Don't think I'm bluffing. I mean every word. Look at yourself, Sila. Smart, independant, and pretty with the tendancy to go batshit crazy when required. That stuff screams grovel, asshole or go home. So, upset him. And send me the pictures if you can. :P

All her nervousness left her instantly. She couldn't help smiling. She was about to meet her boyfriend after days. He was right in front of her but the smile on her face wasn't because of him. Not in the slightest.

𝄞