Dawood’s office was thick with tension, the walls seeming to close in on the two men. The air was stifling, weighed down by the unsaid words and heavy accusations that hung between them like a blade ready to fall. Dawood's knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his desk, his entire body taut with the fury he struggled to contain. He’d been here before, with enemies, with rivals, but never with Ali. Not Ali, the man who had saved his life more times than he could count, the man who had stood by him through his darkest days.

But today, everything was different.

Finally, Dawood broke the silence, his voice low and dangerous. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He stopped pacing, staring Ali down with a look that could cut steel. “You knew. You knew exactly what was going on, and you didn’t say a word.”

Ali’s jaw clenched. “What do you mean? You didn't tell me anything about your so called marriage and now you are accusing me of knowing it.”

Dawood’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point, Ali. You should have told me! You should have been there at my side, not plotting behind my back with some intruder, trying to stop my wedding.”

“I wasn’t plotting anything!” Ali’s voice rose, the emotion breaking through his carefully controlled demeanor. “I didn’t even know that man! You’re accusing me of things I didn’t do. And let’s not forget, Dawood, I wasn’t even invited to your wedding. Your best friend, your closest ally, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Dawood’s face hardened. He hadn’t expected that. Of course, he hadn’t invited Ali, but the reasons for that were complicated. “You weren’t invited because I didn’t need anyone to stop me,” Dawood said harshly. “I knew what I was doing.”

“Did you?” Ali shot back, stepping closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve lost control of everything. You’re so blinded by your obsession with revenge that you can’t even see the damage you’re doing, to yourself, to her, to all of us.”

Dawood’s temper flared, his voice rising with barely contained fury. “Why do you care so much about her, Ali? Tell me!” He grabbed Ali by the collar, pulling him close, his breath hot with anger. “Are you in love with Yara? Is that what this is about?”

Ali’s eyes blazed with a mixture of shock and pain. “Who told you that?” he asked, his voice cold. “Who planted that lie in your head?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dawood growled. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, the way you’ve been acting. You didn’t want me to marry her because you’re in love with her!”

Ali shoved Dawood’s hands off him, his face pale with anger. “That’s not true, and you know it! I care about her because she’s innocent in all of this. She didn’t ask for this life, she didn’t ask to be dragged into your world of violence and revenge. But love? No. I’m not in love with her, Dawood. But I’m starting to wonder if you even know what love is.”

Dawood’s heart pounded in his chest, but he couldn’t let go of the gnawing suspicion, the betrayal that felt like it was eating him alive. “You should have trusted me, Ali. Out of all people, I thought you had my back.”

Ali’s expression softened, but there was still a hard edge to his voice. “I did trust you, Dawood. I always have. But now... now I don’t know who you are anymore.” He took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re so caught up in your anger that you can’t even see the truth when it’s right in front of you.”

Silence fell between them again, heavy and suffocating.

Ali turned to leave, but before he reached the door, he stopped, his voice quiet but filled with hurt. “You could have trusted me, Dawood. You could have asked me, and I would have told you the truth. But you didn’t. You chose to believe a stranger over your best friend. And that...” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s something I’ll never forget.”

Without another word, Ali walked out of the office, the door closing behind him with a quiet finality.

Dawood stood frozen, his fists trembling at his sides, his heart heavy with the weight of Ali’s words. He had just lost his best friend, and it wasn’t because of the intruder or even Yara. It was because he hadn’t trusted the one person who had always stood by him.

As the hours passed, Dawood’s mind churned with restless thoughts. He sat behind his desk, staring at nothing, his emotions a chaotic swirl of anger, confusion, and guilt. He couldn’t stop replaying the argument in his mind, the way Ali had looked at him, the pain in his eyes.

And then, his thoughts shifted. Yara. She was at the center of all of this. If she hadn’t come into his life, none of this would have happened. Ali wouldn’t have betrayed him, the intruder wouldn’t have shown up at his wedding, and he wouldn’t be sitting here, drowning in doubt and rage.

Blaming Yara was easy. It was easier than blaming himself.

With a frustrated growl, Dawood pushed himself out of his chair and stormed out of his office. He needed to clear his head, needed to release the pent-up anger that was burning inside him. He headed straight for his shooting room, the one place where he could let loose without consequences.

Grabbing a pistol from the rack, Dawood aimed at the targets across the room and fired off several rounds. The sound of the gunshots echoed in the confined space, each shot a release of the anger he couldn’t control. His hands shook as he fired again and again, his mind a blur of frustration and regret.

By the time he emptied the clip, his chest was heaving, and his arms ached from the tension. But even the physical release wasn’t enough to calm the storm inside him. He dropped the gun onto the table and pressed his hands against his temples, trying to stop the thoughts from overwhelming him.

Why had he married Yara? Why had he let things spiral so far out of control?

The answers were elusive, hidden beneath layers of pride and anger that he couldn’t unravel. And now, as the night dragged on, Dawood was left with nothing but his doubts, his frustration, and the hollow echo of gunshots ringing in his ears.

.
.
.

The next morning, Yara jolted awake at the sound of her door creaking open. Her heart raced, her breath catching in her throat as fear washed over her. She had barely slept, haunted by the nightmare of the previous day, the forced marriage, the intruder, the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had taken root deep inside her.

But when she turned to face the door, it wasn’t Dawood standing there. It was Safiya Ma.

Relief washed over Yara, but it was quickly replaced by dread. Safiya Ma’s kind face was creased with worry, and Yara knew what was coming.

“Child,” Safiya Ma said softly, stepping into the room. “It’s time to get ready for the waleema.”

Yara shook her head, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders as if it could shield her from reality. “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to.”

Safiya Ma walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, her weathered hand gently patting Yara’s shoulder. “I know, dear. I know this isn’t what you wanted. But you don’t have a choice. The guests have already been invited, and Dawood... he’s not in the mood to be crossed right now.”

Yara bit her lip, the tears threatening to spill over once again. “He’s angry, isn’t he?”

Safiya Ma sighed. “Yes. After what happened with the intruder, he’s furious. And if you refuse to show up for the waleema... well, I don’t want to imagine how much angrier he’ll get.”

Yara looked down at her hands, her heart heavy with the weight of her fate. She didn’t want to go through with this. She didn’t want to face the world as Dawood’s wife, to be paraded around like some kind of trophy in front of a room full of mafias. But what choice did she have?

Safiya Ma’s voice softened even more, her eyes filled with sympathy. “I know this is hard, Yara. But you’re stronger than you think. And right now, you need to be strong.”

Yara swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “I’ll get ready.”

With a heavy heart, she climbed out of bed and headed toward the bathroom, her steps slow and reluctant. As she prepared for the day ahead, her mind raced with fear and uncertainty. What would happen at the lunch? What would Dawood do if she disobeyed? And how much longer would she be trapped in this nightmare?

The answers were unclear, but one thing was certain: today, like every day since she had been forced into this marriage, Yara would have to survive.

And that, she thought grimly, was all she could hope for.

............................................................................

Hiii / Assalamu Alaikum
I hope all of you are doing good ❤️

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