"dil ka sauda hua chandni raat mein."
   
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STARTLING sound of her room's door flying open jolted her awake from the deep slumber she had slipped into after Fajr prayers.

"Bajjo!" exclaimed Omer as he bolted inside, his features agog with astonishment―pretty much resembling a deer caught in headlights.

Iman's frame rose on the bed―her heavy eyelids sweeping with concern―as she yanked the blanket off her body and enquired in a hoarse voice thick with worry; "What's wrong?"

The younger sibling hiked towards her perched frame and grabbed her hand. "You have to come with me."

Iman's brows formed a knot of dread as she heard her brother's eager request and took in the shadows of befuddlement on his face.

"But why? What happene-"

"Just come with me!" Omer prodded, gently tugging her hand and propelling her to get up.

Leaving her bed, she got up on her toes and scurried out of the room with Omer leading the way. The sibling duo emerged in the open hallway of the first floor connected with the circular double staircase and halted by the golden steel railing at the edge.

Iman's curious gaze roamed around the men present downstairs but when her eyes descended on a particular man among them, her gaze couldn't move beyond.

Her heart leapt in her throat when she saw Zain standing with the uniformed officers, his demeanour all erect and fatal and dominant. There was a distinguished air to his countenance that she had never felt when he was with her.

"Ya Allah!" A surprised gasp rolled out of her lips and her hand flew to her chest in incredulity―feeling the meteoric rise of her heartbeat as her eyes drank in the sight. "Zain... what... what is he doing here with the police?"

"They're here to arrest Haider," enlightened Omer, making her abruptly snap her head to his side with her jaw hanging low.

"What?! Why...?"

"For assaulting a police officer," Omer told her in a hard voice.

Her eyes spanned, accompanying her loosened jaw but it was the subsequent words that came out of her brother's mouth that made her breathing stall.

"It's him," Omer said, without taking his eyes off his sister and pointing his finger down at a certain man who was currently the centre of attention. "He just introduced himself as Inspector Zain Awan from SIU."

Omer's statement ringed through her ears and turned into an avalanche of shock that wreaked havoc in the hazy land of her mind.

Slowly, her head turned and she let her mystified gaze ski down, landing on the murky disposition of the man who was engaged in a conversation with Haider.

Her brain struggled to register the newfound information.

"No way..." she trailed, gobsmacked.
How was that possible? Why did he never tell her that? She couldn't believe it! Zain was a... he was a....

The thoughts that echoed in the walls of her head were shared sentiments that rumbled the mind of the man who was circled by the lawmen downstairs.

With an acerbic arch of his thick brow and an equally cutting gaze, Haider hissed out: "So, you're a cop."

Zain whimsically pursed his lips and loosely shrugged.

"You ambushed me with your men that day, " Zain stated; his lips slowly curving into a devious smirk. "I thought I should also bring my troop and return the favour."

A bitter scoff fled Haider's mouth. "Oh, yeah? To arrest me on the allegations of assaulting a cop when I didn't even know the name of the said cop, let alone his status and occupation?"

"Did you not?" Zain feigned an oblivious look and then added, "Well, have fun proving that."

The lawman flashed him a vicious grin, making Haider grind his teeth in anger.

"And," Zain continued in a serious tone, "Even if you manage to do so, I'm sure you're smart enough to know that assaulting any person is a crime that can earn you a trip to jail, so you, Mr Khan, are caught in cleft stick either way."

Haider's glare turned darker as he clenched his fist with such extreme fury that the tremors rocking his hand were noticed by the Bakhtiyars standing behind him.

Amir―quickly recovering himself from the shock―leaned closer to his father and mumbled in a low voice, "Baba Jaan, he's the guy Iman ran away with."

His father's head snapped in his direction upon hearing that and  stared at him with his expanded grey eyes, sputtering an incredulous, "What!?"

And then, Ashfaq Bakhtiyar's stunned gaze caught the sight of his friend, Khawar―who had been standing next to them moments ago―hike forward with a deep frown clouding his traits and halt next to his son.

"Just what the hell is going on here? What is he saying, Haider?" Khawar queried with a mixture of concern and confusion.

"Gibberish," Haider replied curtly, keeping his dark, malevolent eyes pinned on the cop before him. "That's what he's uttering."

Unclenching his fist and pulling in a deep breath that barely managed to calm his boiling blood, he turned to his father and told him on a solemn expression, "I haven't done anything like that, Dad. Let me call my lawyer, he'll deal with them!"

Haider fished out his phone from his pocket but before he could ring his lawyer, he was interrupted by an annoying voice.

"Do that later." The middle-aged officer who had shown him the arrest warrants earlier came forward. "Right now, you have to come with us to the police station, Mr Haider."

Haider turned to him with a deadly scowl but it was his father who moved forward and replied to the impudent officer.

"You're not taking my son anywhere! Do you even know who you're talking to? I'll call the Chief Minister and get you-"

"Sir, ap Chief Minister ko call karen ya Prime Minister ko but he's coming with us to the police station," the uniformed officer interjected in a loud, strict voice.

A grin manifested on Zain's lips as he folded his arms across his chest and watched the scene―deeply amused and entertained as he let his fellow law enforcers handle the rest.

He had asked for the assistance of his team that often accompanied him during raids and sting operations; comprised of superintendents and sub-inspectors. His eyes fell on a particular sub-inspector, Saif, standing a few feet away from him sporting a bored look.

"The choice is yours," the senior officer spoke again, gesturing with his hands. "Either come willingly or we drag you by force."

Watch it!" Haider snapped, pointing a sharp finger at him. "Apni auqaat main raho."

Shutting his eyes briefly and realizing with a bitter taste in his mouth that the only rational choice he had right now was to comply and settle this matter outside the Bakhtiyar mansion without prolonging the scene further. He knew it was going to be complicated because the goddamn man he had punished was a member of law enforcement.

"Dad, I'll go with them. Call my lawyer and come to the police station with him," Haider told his father, making worry contour his features.

"What? But-"

"Dad, please. Do as I say," Haider pressed, earning an exasperated sigh from his father.

Bearing the maelstrom stirring inside of him and tightly reigning on his anger so he doesn't end up punching that dirtbag―who was staring at him with a disgusting smile―and make his predicament worse, he began walking.

His frame halted when he was about to pass by the repulsive, plain-clothed cop. Swerving his head, he locked his fiery gaze on him―a gaze kindled with dire retaliation; a gaze so charring and unforgiving.

"This is not over, Inspector Zain." The title was uttered in raw vehemence, festooned with severe ramifications.

Coldness swept into the obsidian sphere of Zain's eyes as he jutted his chin and held the hateful glare of the man before him.

"Get over yourself, Haider," Zain bit out.

The flames of resentment in Haider's irises burned like a wildfire―and Zain's piercing subzero gaze countered it. A silent battle of fire and ice roared on between them.

The senior officer's interruption and his hand motioning Haider to move forward severed the glaring clash. He swerved his head his frame stormed towards the exit with the stygian-clothed officers―leaving Saif and Zain behind.

Haider's father, with his phone attached to his ears, also followed suit when he was momentarily stopped by Amir's voice.

"Uncle, I'll also come with yo-"

"No, thank you!" Khawar Ali Khan harshly cut him off and regarded Ashfaq Bakhtiyar and his son with a furious glare before storming out of the house.

After their departure, Zain straightened his neck and his gaze involuntarily flew up―catching sight of a female figure standing at the top of the majestic staircase.

The cold reigning in his inky eyes instantly melted away and his traits softened as his gaze settled on Iman. Her wide grey eyes were pinned on him; her beautiful face drenched in surprise as she kept staring at him in a quandary.

A ghost of a smile, an assuring smile, twinkled on his face before he dragged his gaze down and it landed on the old man standing a few feet away from him―her father.

As he footed towards him, he couldn't help but discern the uncanny similar eyes the father and the daughter shared.

"Hello, Sir. I have already introduced myself but I," Zain cleared his throat and resumed, "I am... also the man who helped your daughter run away from her wedding."

Mr Bakhtiyar regarded him with the same hard-as-granite look he had seen in Iman's eyes that night when she had declared that she didn't want to marry Haider.

"And what do you plan to do now? Throw me in jail?" Her father bit out sarkily.

"Of course not," Zain stated calmly. "Please, let me clarify what actually happened that night."

Amir, standing next to his father and shaking with unbridled anger took a fuming step forward. "How dare y-"

"Amir!" His father stopped him with a firm raise of his hand, compelling him to swallow his rage and halt his movements.

Taking a deep breath, Zain began, "While working on a mission that night, I had gotten badly injured and to save myself from the goons who were chasing after me, I ended up taking shelter in the room your daughter was in. Even though I threatened her with a gun, she was kind enough to help me treat my wounds."

Zain exhaled, his mind automatically replaying the moments that were stored in every crevice of his heart and mind.

"Long story short, I found out your daughter wasn't happy with the life partner you had chosen for her so I ended up helping her run away from the wedding."

Iman witnessed the scene unfolding downstairs with thundering palpitations of her heart, her eyes never leaving the face of the man who was so calmly narrating the chain of events.

"The act can't be vindicated, Sir. It was wrong, and I know it must've caused you great woe but what you did to your daughter was also wrong. You shouldn't have forced her to marry someone she didn't want to," Zain stated flintly.

Ashfaq Bakhtiyar patiently heard the tale the lawman recited but the last line broke the thread. "Now you'll tell me what I should and shouldn't have done? As her father, I have every right to take the decisions of her life!"

Iman flinched at the stringent tone of her father.

A dry scoff left Zain's lips, "That's the problem. Parents very proudly remember their rights but always forget the rights of their children."

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he hissed out, "Neither the law nor our religion gives you the right to force her to marry someone she doesn't want to. That's simply a transgression of her right to choose her husband."

A deep scowl stained Ashfaq Bakhtiyar's wizened face and his gaze turned sharper as he roared, "You have the nerve to lecture me on religion and rights after committing such an atrocious act? And, even if I believe the story you just recounted, my daughter still spent two days, two whole days with you! Do you realize what that insinuates?!"

Zain's visage hardened and so did his nerves upon hearing that but he endeavoured to keep his calm and intoned, "Nothing. Your daughter and I don't have any kind of relationship."

And somewhere deep in his heart that was beating for the same woman he had declared not to have any relationship with; it hurt.

"She's a woman of strong character," Zain continued in an acute firm voice. "And, I'm not a man who would take advantage of a woman. I was supposed to bring her back to you because she couldn't stop berating herself for shredding your honour. But, before that, your almost son-in-law abducted me and well, you already know the rest."

Ashfaq Bakhtiyar remained silent for a few moments, his veteran eyes raking the boy, assessing his mien, and inwardly drawing out a conclusion that he wasn't lying. But it meant nothing because the damage had been already done―the damage to his pride and reputation.

"Just what do you want me to do now?" he asked Zain.

"Forgive her," Zain replied instantly. "Give her another chance. She's aware of her mistakes so please realize yours too. Accept her choices just like she has accepted yours all her life."

Iman gripped the steel glass railing tightly; her heart warming at each and every word he delivered in her defence.

But her father had an inverse reaction.

"And what if I refuse?" he asked with a raise of his faded brow.

The lawman's inky eyes narrowed as if he was staring at the old man through sights of a gun. He took a step forward, his countenance as murky as his gaze.

"Then I'll be forced you to teach you how you should treat your daughter with the help of law."

"Is that a threat?" Ashfaq Bakhtiyar asked challengingly.

"It's a request for now," Zain answered in a deadly calm voice.

Her father swerved his head to the side, breathing heavily but his son who was standing next to him in silent obedience all this time took this as an opportunity to open his mouth and call out the cop.

"Just get out of our house and never come back again," Amir spat, shooting daggers with his eyes.

Zain shifted his gaze to him. "That's up to you. Don't provide me a reason to come here again," he riposted scathingly.

Heaving a deep sigh, Zain's eyes descended on the old man again as he announced, "I'll take my leave now."

Her father stared at him in silence.

"Please mend your relationship with Iman. She really loves you," Zain mumbled in a softer, almost pleading, tone.

Her father averted his gaze but Zain didn't miss the gleam of emotions that casted over his traits for a fleeting moment.

Moistening his lips, Zain drew back and his eyes flew up again to meet the woman he was willing to do anything and everything for. There was another person standing next to her, a tall young boy, he hadn't noticed before.

But then again, when she was in front of him, all he could see was her. Everything blurred in her presence.

He swallowed and looked at her.

For one last time.

Zain had made up his mind last night that he was going to leave after dealing with Haider and clarifying everything to her father.

He knew she was so torn by the hatred in her father's eyes that she wasn't going to see the love his inky eyes harboured for her. 

He had to give her time to placate her relationship with her father. Of course, he was going to keep a check on her family, he was not going to let anyone hurt her.

He was going to be there for her, just not with her.

He had to leave.

But the more he looked at her, the more his resolute to go away from her weakened. His heart thrashed against his chest and the desire to take her with him, to never part from her, soared with each riotous beat.

If his heart wasn't caged in the prison of his ribs, he was sure it would have burst out of his chest and fallen at her feet.

Iman held his glance of farewell with a sharp pain of sorrow surging her spirit. Was she really never going to see him again? Part of her didn't want him to go away but how could she stop him? Like he had told her father, they shared no relationship.

Her silent whisperings and his silent longing was a ballad of despair that filled the air.

Zain knew if he didn't take his eyes off her then he won't be able to even take a step further so he closed his eyes and dropped his head.

And then he turned.

His body turned but his heart didn't.

It wouldn't.

Because it wasn't his anymore. It belonged to her.

Gritting his teeth and summoning all his strength, he began treading to the exit, feeling like he was walking barefoot on a bed of hot coals. Each step he took singed his insides, compressed his veins and made it hard for air to filter through his lungs. He had to remind himself repeatedly that he couldn't be with her for now.

Maybe there was going to come a day when they would meet again, when the circumstances wouldn't hold him back from voicing out his feelings, when there won't be any sadness in her eyes; when he would be able to hold her hand and tell her how much he wants to be with her.

But today was not that day.

Today, they had to part ways.

For how long, he didn't know but he was leaving everything to his destiny that had brought them together.

His body whirled back when he reached the threshold and his charcoal gaze darted back to envelop his beauty.

Their gaze collided again and this time, she couldn't suppress the tear that sprouted out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

His poignant stare. Uski wo dil ko cheer dene wali nazar, she wasn't ever going to recover from that.

His misty eyes scintillated with a sadness so excruciating, it made her heart shiver, squeeze and shatter into pieces.

And then the possessor of those sad black eyes blinked, his lips parted and closed, and a stern look crossed over his features before he dropped his head again. His face disappeared from her sight as he veered his body and walked out.

Of the door.

Of her life.

And it was only then her hand extended forward to call him out but it was too late. She slowly lowered her hand and shut her eyes in hopeless melancholy, veering around and running towards her room with Omer following her behind.

Downstairs, Saif was about to cross the entrance of the building as well but his movements halted when he heard the older Bakhtiyar sibling talking in a demeaning way about Zain.

"That bloody third rate officer had the gall to say all those things after putting us through hell. I'll deal with him," Amir spat with sheer rancour. "Iska toh main wo hashar karoonga kay-"

"Don't do anything you might end up regretting later." Saif peddled towards the Bakhtiyar men and stopped before them with his brows sewed into an irritated frown. "Because, first of all, he is not a third rate officer, he's a brilliant and most valorous cop of our department."

Amir grinded his teeth and opened his mouth to riposte but Saif beat him to it.

"And second, he's the son of Inspector General Shahnawaz Awan, Chief of Sindh Police," Saif apprised, leaving the men before him stunned. "So, tread carefully because he has better connections than you," he added with a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Turning around, he darted towards the exit to catch up with Zain, leaving the men of Bakhtiyar family silently ponder upon the information he had provided.

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The afternoon sky was smothered by the thick blanket of dark-grey clouds eager to unleash a downpour on the city of lights.

Under the grumbling sky sporadically alight with streaks of lightning, Zain stood on a familiar street, in front of a particular abode―staring at the imposing wooden gate with dark panels before him.

The Awan Residence. His home.

As he sauntered towards the entrance, he noticed the police vans stationed on either corner of the street his house was situated for security. The lawmen greeted him with courteous salutes and he regarded them with a nod as he stopped before the gate.

The security guard stationed there instantly unfurled the gate upon noticing him and he hopped inside, eyes falling on the warm and inviting exterior of his house; a combination of brown and grey with steeply sloped metal roofing and glass panes. The strategically positioned big glass windows embellishing the structure balanced privacy and views of the surrounding.

A sense of warmth engulfed him as he navigated through the concrete grid-like path paving the way to the building ahead, noticing not much had changed in the time he had been absent. The widespread, lush green garden surrounding the area was still scarce of beautiful flowers. The black pyramid gazebo on the right was filled with the same dark seating arrangement and the car porch ahead was crammed with three vehicles.

Making his way inside, his frame emerged in the spacious foyer decorated with modern wooden furniture. His evenings were mostly spent here with his family whenever he was free.

His weary eyes were fixed on the newspapers scattered on the glass table in the middle when he heard the sweet authoritative voice he was so fond of coming from behind.

"You're two days late."

A smile floated on his lips as his body instantly swiveled around and his eyes fell on the person he was closest to; the person he had missed the most when he was away.

"Mama!" Zain beamed as he regarded the woman before him.

Clothed in a plain violet shirt and trouser that complimented her porcelain complexion―shoulder-length light brown hair framing her round face and her deep-set eyes fixed on him, she stood a few steps away from him.

A gasp rolled out of Fatima Awan's thin lips when she witnessed the wound-covered face of her son she was seeing after sixty days.

But before she could verbally express her shock, Zain sprinted towards her and tightly wrapped his arms around her frame. "I missed you so much."

She hugged him back, relived with his return but equally distressed by the injuries marring his face. When they pulled apart, she instantly touched his face with worry-coloured eyes.

"Zain! What happened to your face?! What are all these wounds!?" His mother exclaimed.

"Don't worry, Mama I'm fin-"

"Don't worry?!" His mother squeaked. "How can I not worry? Have you seen your face? How did this happen?"

"Please calm down." Zain gently squeezed her shoulders. "I'm fine. It's just things got out of control and I had to get involved in a fight. Uh, fights actually."

His mother's jaw ticked like a time bomb and her gaze turned into a deadly glare. "Tum or tumhare baap, dono ne kasam kha rakhi hai kay mujhay chain ka saans nahi lene do gey," she huffed in frustration. "You both have absolutely zero concern for your safety. I'm so sick of your dangerous ventures!"

Biting down his lip, he cleared his throat and placed his hand upon her cheek. "Acha ab please don't be angry. I promise I won't take up another assignment at least for a month."

Her glare aggravated and Zain gulped.

"I-I mean any dangerous assignment, I won't," he assured.

She sighed and shook her head. The anger slowly evanesced and worry refilled her eyes as she scrutinized his face and started asking if he had gotten hurt anywhere else.

He couldn't tell her that his heart was where it hurt the most.

The mother and son were involved in a conversation when a mellifluous feminine voice ricocheted around, grabbing Zain's attention.

"Look who finally decided to show up."

Zain tilted his head, peering over his mother's shoulder and saw his younger sister sashaying down the stairs with her hair tied into a high messy bun and her frame encompassed in a black sweatshirt and jeans.

A grin pulled at his lips as he trudged forward and intoned, "There's my Zuny!"

Zunyra Awan stopped before her older brother; her black irises taking in his features with her brows intertwined into a frown and mouth agape.

Zain pulled her into a warm hug and she returned it with the same intensity because her bother had no idea how badly she had missed his presence.

Pulling apart, Zunyra mounted her arched brow at her brother and remarked; "You're back after two damn months and with this face?"

Zain chuckled, "I thought I should bring some variety this time."

A scowl manifested on Zunyra's symmetrical features. "Not funny, Bhaiyya."

And then her hand rolled out to inspect the bruises on his face, careful enough not to hurt him with her long, red manicured nails. "Did you get them treated?"

Zain assured her with a nod.

"I hope whoever did this dies a painful death," Zunyra spat with derision.

Zain's brows winged as he mumbled in amusement, "You sound scary, Zuny."

"She is scary."

A familiar masculine voice seized Zain's attention as his eyes spotted a lithe male figure swimming down the stairs.

Arsal, his cousin, made his way to him with a bright smile shading his refined traits and his hazel eyes shining with mirth as he greeted Zain with a vigorous handshake and hug.

"Good to have you back, Bhaiyya," he expressed.

After Arsal had lost his parents in an accident at the age of twelve, Zain's father had brought him home and he had been living with the Awans ever since. He was a part of their family and Zain loved and cherished him just like Zunyra.

"I don't think I should ask how you have been because... I can already see that," Arsal remarked with a sympathetic hiss.

"Yeah, had quite a rough time," Zain answered.

The trio and his mother indulged in a short conversation before Zain excused himself by telling them he wanted to freshen up and lie down for a bit. He climbed up the stairs and made a beeline for his room.

"Is it just me or Bhaiyya looks kinda down? Like, something's off." Zunyra folded her arms across her chest and mumbled.

"He must be exhausted," Arsal replied to her, reaping a reluctant shrug from her.

But Zain's mother knew it wasn't just exhaustion. The dullness in her son's eyes and his crestfallen demeanour implied something really was not right.

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A/n: The amount of sad songs I listened to so I could capture Zain's farewell glance perfectly really gave me a headache (and actually made me sad lmao)

Soooo, what do you make of the chapter? How was it? And what do you think will happen next?

And yeah guys, don't worry about Zain and Iman's because adhoori mulaqaat hee toh phir se milne ka bahana hota hai. ;)

Also, yes y'all were absolutely right about Zunyra. She's Zain's little zee and you guys have no idea how fire Zunyra and Omer's next meeting gonna be mouahahha, so do look forward to it.

And and and, do look forward to meet Shahnawaz Awan aswell. 🌚

This chapter is dedicated to the most gorgeous girl and the most fantastic author on this site, Emalax  Thankyou so much for being such a wonderful friend and for spoiling me with so much love. Lut Gaye wouldn't have received such recognition without your support (and that super cool tiktok you made) I'm eternally grateful to you and goes without saying, but I love you. Also, if y'all are into historical fics with hot evil king, then go read her book THREADS OF GOLD.

Alright so, I'll try to see you soon. follow me on Instagram @ _zinu13 if you want to see more of Iman, Zain and Haider.