The grand hall was adorned with chandeliers that sparkled like scattered diamonds, their soft glow casting a golden hue across the room. The evening was alive with the murmur of polite conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the soft notes of a live orchestra playing in the background.

Ahad stood near the entrance, his imposing figure clad in a tailored black suit that fit him perfectly. His sharp features and confident demeanor made him stand out effortlessly in the crowd. But his eyes weren't scanning the guests or the lavish decorations-they were focused solely on Naira.

She stood a few steps away, adjusting the delicate dupatta draped over her soft lavender dress. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in the grandeur of the setting. Zara and Mina had been left in the care of Romaisa and Kabir for the evening, leaving her with just Ahad at her side.

"You look beautiful," he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, meant only for her, but it carried enough warmth to make her cheeks flush.

"Thank you," she murmured, glancing up at him. She adjusted the hem of her dress nervously. "This is a bit... overwhelming."

"You're doing fine," he reassured her, offering his arm. "Come on, let's mingle for a bit. I promise it's not as intimidating as it looks."

She hesitated before slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. His height dwarfed her, but he slowed his stride as they walked through the crowd, matching her pace effortlessly.

"Ahad," she said softly, glancing up at him. "You don't have to keep slowing down for me."

He leaned down slightly so she wouldn't have to crane her neck. "And you don't have to keep looking up at me like that. I'll come to you."

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she gave him a small, shy smile.

As the evening progressed, Ahad introduced her to several people-business associates, family friends, and even a few of his trusted employees. Naira found herself speaking more than she expected. At first, it was small talk, but soon she was sharing anecdotes about Zara and Mina, laughing softly at her own stories.

Ahad listened intently, his head inclined toward her as though her every word was the most important thing in the room. His usual sharp demeanor softened, his lips curving into a faint smile as he absorbed her words.

"You like talking as much as your daughters," he teased gently during a quieter moment.

She looked up at him, startled. "I'm sorry. Am I talking too much?"

"Not at all," he said quickly, his voice firm but warm. "I love hearing you talk. Keep going."

Her smile widened, and she continued, her confidence building with every encouraging glance he gave her. For the first time in a long time, she felt seen-not as a survivor or a mother, but as herself.

Later in the evening, the orchestra began to play a lively tune, and couples moved toward the center of the hall to dance. Naira's eyes lit up as she watched them, her gaze lingering on the way the women twirled in their flowing gowns.

"You want to dance," Ahad observed, his voice soft and knowing.

She nodded, but her smile faltered slightly. "I do... but my leg's been acting up. I think I twisted it earlier today."

He frowned, his gaze dropping to her feet. "You didn't tell me."

"It's not a big deal," she said quickly. "I didn't want to bother you."

Ahad straightened, his expression firm. "You're never a bother, Naira."

Before she could respond, he bent down and scooped her into his arms effortlessly.

"Ahad!" she exclaimed, her hands gripping his shoulders instinctively. "What are you doing?"

"Fulfilling your wish," he said simply, striding toward the dance floor with her in his arms.

People turned to watch as Ahad carried her into the center of the room, but he paid them no mind. His focus was entirely on Naira.

"You're going to make a scene," she whispered, her cheeks flaming.

"Let them look," he replied, his tone unbothered. "You wanted to dance, and we're going to dance."

Holding her securely, he began to sway gently to the music, his movements steady and graceful despite the unusual arrangement. Naira's embarrassment faded quickly as she relaxed in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the music.

"For what?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

"For making me feel special," she said, her fingers clutching the fabric of his suit.

He paused for a moment, tilting his head to look at her. "You are special, Naira. You just need to start believing it."

Her throat tightened at his words, and she couldn't bring herself to look away from his gaze. His honesty, his care-it left her feeling vulnerable in the best possible way.

As the song came to an end, Ahad carried her off the dance floor and found a quiet corner where he gently set her down on a cushioned bench.

"Are you okay?" he asked, crouching in front of her.

She nodded, her hand resting on his shoulder for balance. "I'm fine. That was... wonderful."

"Good," he said, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. "Because I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Her laughter was soft, and she reached up to touch his cheek lightly. "You're impossible, Ahad."

"And you're worth it," he replied, leaning into her touch.

For the rest of the evening, Ahad stayed by her side, his attention unwavering. And for the first time in years, Naira felt like she belonged-not just in the room, but in her life with him.