Very disappointing, bhai. You didn’t meet the target we discussed. But kher, I still have to finish this story, so I’ll keep doing my part. Let’s stay focused and get things done!
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Poor author!
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HIS POV
As she cut the call, my mind snapped back to the task at hand. The warmth I felt moments ago faded into the cold focus of work. I leaned back in my chair, eyes narrowing as I processed the situation.
Just then, Zayn stepped into my office, his expression unreadable but tense.
“Sir, we’ve got them,” he said, his voice low. “They’re captured in the basement.”
The anger I’d kept at bay for the past month started to stir again. A betrayal in the office, by people I trusted. They stole our company’s privacy, leaked the entire project.. I clenched my fists, the realization of how close we came to disaster hitting hard.
“Good,” I muttered. “Let’s make sure they understand the consequences.”
As I descended the stairs to the basement, my thoughts drifted briefly No one betrayed me and walked away unscathed. I was so close to securing the revenge that had driven me for months.
Zayn was waiting outside the basement door, his face a mask of professionalism, but I knew he sensed the storm brewing inside me. He handed me the file with the evidence they had gathered emails, transfers, the whole web of deceit.
A bitter laugh escaped me as I realized how tightly everything was intertwined. They had taken everything from me, and now I stood on the precipice of taking everything from them.
I pushed open the heavy door, the low hum of fluorescent lights greeting me as I stepped inside. Three of my former employees were bound to chairs, their faces pale, fear written in every line of their posture. I walked in slowly, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the small, sterile room.
“You know why you’re here,” I said, my voice quiet but laced with venom.
They shifted nervously, but no one spoke. Good. They knew better than to plead for mercy.
I paced in front of them, the weight of their betrayal sinking deeper into my bones.
“You thought you could steal from me? From my company? And then run back to them like nothing happened?”
One of them, a man namedRizwan, dared to lift his head.
“It wasn’t personal, sir. We just... we needed the money.”
I stopped in front of him, my gaze hardening.
“It’s always personal. When you stab someone in the back, it’s never just about money.”
Rizwan swallowed, his fear almost palpable, but I didn’t care. They had made their choice. Now, they would face the consequences.
“Zayn,” I called, not breaking eye contact with Rizwan. “Make sure they will never work in their life again.
The silence in the room grew heavier as the weight of what I’d just said sunk in. They thought losing a job was bad? That was mercy compared to what was coming next. These men had not only betrayed my trust they had gambled with my future, my company. I wasn’t just going to ruin their careers; I was going to make sure they couldn’t rebuild their lives.
Rizwan’s lips trembled.
“Please, sir... it was a mistake. We didn’t realize....”
“You didn’t realize?” I cut him off sharply, my voice cold.
“You didn’t realize that you were betraying the very man who gave you everything? Or that you were selling me out to the man who stole my life’s work?”
“Zayn, what does our Sharia kanoon (Islamic law) say about the punishment for stealing?” I asked him.
“To cut off both their hands so they never do it again,” Zayn replied. A creepy smile formed on my lips.
Rizwan opened his mouth to respond, but I silenced him.
“gadar, oo ko bolne ki izazzat nahi hai.”
{REB KI GYAN: In Islamic law (Sharia), the punishment for stealing is known as “ḥadd” (fixed punishment), and it is explicitly mentioned in the Quran. The punishment is the amputation of the hand:-
“As to the thief, male or female, cut off their hands: a punishment by way of example, from Allah, for their crime: and Allah is Exalted in Power, Full of Wisdom.”
However, strict conditions must be met for this punishment to apply, including the value of the stolen goods and the theft being deliberate. Exceptions are made for cases of necessity, such as hunger, where the punishment can be waived. Clear evidence or confession is required, and repentance is encouraged. In practice, this punishment is rarely carried out today, with alternative penalties often preferred.}
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As I came out of the basement and reviewed my files, I received a call from my jaan, and a smile spread across my face just seeing her name on the display. I picked up.
“Haan g, jaan?” I said.
“Kahan ho?” she asked.
“Nikal gaya hu office se,” I lied, but I had already grabbed my coat and was heading for the elevator.
“Aajao, I’m waiting. Ambience Mall ke bookstore pe hu,” she said.
“5 minutes, begum. On the way!”
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I went to the bookstore after finding out that she loved reading. “It’s a different matter that I don’t know which book she reads. Anyway, my wife is smart.”
I searched for her in the bookstore and spotted her at the cash counter, “khud se zyada bade books utha ke rakhi thi, which are all in black. Did she like mystery horror books?”
As I walked closer, the titles caught my eye----- Captive in the Dark (CJ Roberts), Crow (A. Zavarelli), Broken (Willow Winters), Whispers in the Dark (LeTeisha Newton), Lethal Submission (Morgan Elliott), Their Virgin Captive (Shayla Black and Lexi Blake).
{REB: SAB HUNTING & HAUNTING ADELINE JANTE HEIN TOH SOCHA KCH DIFFERENT DARK ROMANCES BOOKS NAME BHI SUGGEST KRDU)
Before she could hand over her card, I forwarded mine.
“Jab shohar hain, toh mere pyaari begum ko sirf apni khwahishen poori karne chahiye.“I said, grinning.
“pehle batate mein hardcover leti” she said shrugging her shoulder.
We took the books and headed to the car. She was rummaging through her shopping bags and finally found what she was looking for. I helped her into the car, placed her bags in the back, and sat in the driver’s seat.
“Irfaz,” she called my name.
“Ji jaan,” I responded. She handed me a bag.
“For you. A little gift,” she said shyly. Hayee, bohot zyada excitement feel ho rahi thi, like bachon ko naye clothes ya chocolate milne se hoti hai.
“Shukriya, begum.”
“Open it.”
As I opened the gift, I saw a carnelian aqeeq ring set in silver, engraved with the initial “I.”
“Aqeeq stone,” I exclaimed.
“Yeah, I bought it the last time I went to perform Umrah. I bought it thinking I’ll give it to someone who will...” She paused, her voice trailing off. “Nothing,” she quickly said, brushing off the unfinished thought. “I already gave the design to the jeweller, and today when I came here, I thought I’d pick it up.”
{Aqeeq is a stone similar to diamonds, emeralds, and rubies, and it was worn by our Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). As a Sunnah, many Muslims choose to wear aqeeq rings; however, it’s important to note that this practice is not compulsory and does not hold significant religious obligation.}
{Umrah is a pilgrimage to Mecca, performed by Muslims as a demonstration of their devotion and submission to Allah. Unlike Hajj, which has specific dates and is one of the Five Pillars of Islam, Umrah can be performed at any time of the year.}
{Just like Varanasi or the Kumbh Mela pilgrimage in Hinduism}
“Shukriya, begum, really thoughtful gift,” I said.
“Hmm, akhir sunnah hai wear karna, so it’s a good thing to give someone. Even though I’m not super religious, jitna ho sakta hai mere se follow, utna karne ki try always,” she replied.
I smiled at her honesty. “Abhi tum ne diya toh pehna bhi do,” I said, and she slipped it onto the little finger of my right hand, facing the stone my palm.
“Don’t go thinking that wearing this will double your wealth, bring good luck, or protect you from the evil eye and all that. Those beliefs aren’t part of Islam,” she said seriously. “I don’t want to end up sharing in any sin because of it. Just think of it as a normal stone, like any diamond or emerald.”
I chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, begum, I know it’s not some magic charm. But still, it’s special because you gave it to me.”
She smiled, a little relieved. “Good, bas yeh hi sochna. It’s just a gesture, nothing more.”
I glanced down at the ring, admiring the way it sat perfectly on my finger. “Well, it’s a beautiful gesture. Thank you again.”
We shared a comfortable silence as I started the car, her presence making everything feel lighter.
“Wait, that reminds me, you haven’t proposed to me yet, idiot!” she said.
I slammed the brakes, the car jerking to a halt. I turned to her, feigning shock.
“yeh zaroori hein krna?“I asked, hiding my laughter.
“Wallah, kya shohar mila hai mujhe! Ek toh mere se zabradasti shaadi ki, aur dusri baar nikkah ke taiyari karne bhi lag gaye. Aur yahan mere se puchhna bhi munasif nahi samjha ki main karna chahti hoon ya nahi yeh nikkah. Upar se mera first kiss bhi le liya!” she complained dramatically. “Hayye Allah, itna dukh meri zindagi mein dena tha kya?”
“Accha jaan, rona band karo,” I said, smiling and side-hugging her. I cupped her face and turned it towards me. “And first of all, when it comes to your first kiss,I will always be your one and only. Whether it’s your kiss or your virginity,there will be no one else, only me,” I said in my dominating tone.
“Secondly, I’ll think about the proposal once you’re mine. For now, let’s focus on the preparations for the nikkah,” I said, planting a possessive kiss and lifting her veil.
She blushed.
“or aap ase chote chote baat pe jo blush krte h mera pant yaha tight ho jata h” I added, only to receive a smack on my shoulder.
“Badtameez! Behaya! Beghairat! Besharam! Beparwaah! Behooda! Kamzarf! Insaan ho tum,” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Hayeeee Allah iss wahiyaat insaan ka mai kiya karu.”
“Ifraz said, ‘Uske sth wahiyat bnjao.’
“Ashleelta toh tumhari, mai ab nikl ti hun,” she yelled, pulling his hair.
“Aise hi baal kuch aur kam kr rhe hi, tab bhi pakde jaate hai,” he retorted, a smirk on his face.
“Ughhh... tum aur tumhari ashleelta bhadh me jao!” she huffed, clearly exasperated.
“Jab tumhe pata hai mujhe kya pasand hai, phir bhi tum aise baatein karte ho,” I said, smirking at her.
“Badtameez, agar tumne apni ashleelta nahi sudhari, toh main tumhe chhodungi nahi chhodungi!” she yelled.
“Chordne ko koun bol raha hai? What I am saying is, should we start...” I tried to make her more red.
“Karo tum car romance steering ke sath, mein chali,” she said, opening the car door with a dramatic flair.
“Achha sorry, begum, maaf kar do, dubara nahi chhedunga,” I said, trying to keep my tone serious while a teasing smile crept onto my face.
“Wow, Ifraz, aaj tu sorry bolne laga hai? Impressive!” I thought to myself, a smirk tugging at my lips as she settled back in her seat.
The drive home was mostly silent, but the air was thick with an unspoken tension. I couldn’t resist stealing glances at her, each one filled with admiration.
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HER POV
As we came back, I saw three new faces lounging in the living room. I greeted them, took off my burkah, and sat down.
“Mashallah bhabhi ki kitni pyari h Irfaz bhai,” she exclaimed. I was taken aback by her sudden compliment.
“Akhir pasand kiski h?” Dewan interjected.
“Teri toh nahi h, Nevle, itna toh sure hu,” she said. “Haan toh Irfaz bhai ki hain or kiski hogi?” he said. “Ya Allah, chipkali jaisi shakal toh de diya isko, lekin chipkali jaisi dimaag dena bhi zaroori tha kya?” Dewan being dramatic.
“Chup kar, Nevle,” she chimed.
“Btw, bhabhi, mein Ayesha, aapki choti nanad,” she introduced herself. “Assalamualaikum choti nanad g. I am Izel Khan,” I said, grinning.
“Izel bacha, yeh Irfaz or Dewan ke chachu hain, yeh chachi unke,” Mom introduced them to me, as the whole atmosphere was lively.
“Ruksar, saar mein dard ho rha h, chai pila adrak wali,” Bua came from her room.
“Ji,” Mom said and went to the kitchen.
“Mumma, mein aau?” I asked. “Wallima ke baad,” Mom said.
“ITni der soyegi toh saar toh dukhega he na,” Dewan whispered to Ayesha, but it was flatly audible to me.
“Astagfirullah, aise na bol.... mera bas chahe toh yeh kabhi uthe he na nind se,” Ayesha said.
“Irfaz ko puche, hum toh kal ke liye bhi ready h,” Father replied.
“Har baat aaj kal bacho ke hisab se chalna padhta toh baap sirf naam ke reh jaoge,” Bua taunted Father.
“Bua, aapko toh bas baatein karni hain. Aaj kal ki generation ko pata hai kya sahi hai aur kya nahi. Baaki final decision hamesha bade logon ka he hoga. “dewan interjected.
“Aap sirf walima ki date yaad rakhiye, baaki sab humare upar hai.” irfaz said.
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Bua was silenced, and Dad let out a chuckle.
‘Beta, when’s the walima?’ Dad asked him. Honestly, even I have no idea when it’s supposed to happen.
‘After five days, Dad. I was thinking of doing it the day after tomorrow, but...’ He was cut off by Dad.
‘Good call, otherwise your mom would’ve been upset, saying you didn’t give her enough time to shop.’ Dad glanced at Mom, who shot him a glare.
‘Ayesha Dewan, are you not planning the wedding?’ Dad smoothly shifted the conversation elsewhere.”
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I couldn’t help but think about how much I hated this Naagin (Irfaz’s bua). Naagin suggested we have something light.
Haan Bhai, Iss naagin ne roti aur karele tinde, kaddu banwaye ghar pe, which was basically a torture device for my taste buds. ITNE AMEER HOKE BHI KOI KARELE, KADDU, TINDE KHATE H KYA? ISS SE ACHA MERI HOSTEL LIFE THI ATLEAST MUJHE PANNI WALI DAAL TOH PRAPT HOTA THA.
I’d rather starve than eat this ghass-fuss. I’m begging you, please don’t make me eat this. But Naagin was determined to feed us something “light and healthy”.
We sat down at the table.
“Once the wedding festivities start, if you eat chicken and mutton every day, your stomach will get upset. That’s why I suggested something light and healthy. Karela, tinde, kaddu will even detox your body.” Bua said. “What do you say, nayi bahu? Did I do the right thing?”
I just nodded in response; but inside, I was dying. The thought of eating that bitter, slimy vegetable made me want to gag.
‘Naggin meine been baja baja ke anarakali bana deni h tujhe’
When I got served the food, just the sight of karela made me feel like throwing up, uwaahhhh. I wanted to flip the plate right into this naagin’s face.
“Ammi mein nhi khata hu karela, tinde, kaddu aapko toh pata he hein,” Dewan protested.
‘Very good devar ji, proud of you’
“Tere liye meine daal Bachaya din ka. Abhi lati hu,” Mom said.
‘Wow yrr lucky dewan mere se bhi share krle. Mere chote devar ji. Ek lauti bhabhi hu teri kch toh raham kr merepe. mujhe bhi dede thodi si daal’
Everyone’s eyes were on me, wondering why the nayi bahu wasn’t eating. Uwaahhhh. I’m going to cry.
“Khao beta, don’t be shy,” Bua said.
‘mera bass chale toh mein tujhe na kha jau’
I took my first bite, and I swear, the moment that bitter karela touched my tongue, I felt like throwing up.Agr ulti krdia abhi toh iss naggin ko lgega mein paith se hu Naya bakhera khadi kregi yeh.
Irfaz passed me a tissue. I pretended to wipe my mouth and secretly spat the bite into the tissue, collecting it discreetly. Finally, I managed to finish one chapati khaya nhi h bss muh se nikala h. The whole time, Irfaz’s eyes were on me. I gave him puppy eyes, hoping he’d understand, but this 6ft ka bandar just didn’t get the hint. He smiled at me.
‘Ya allah ek katal maaf krdo Aaj either iss Naagin ki krti hu ya phir apne shohar ki.’
“Would you like some more, beta?” Mom asked. “No, I’m done. I’m not hungry anymore,” I tried to sound normal.
“Why, what happened? Is everything okay?” Mom inquired.
“It’s just a bit of indigestion,” I said.
“I’m done eating,” Irfaz said.
I was relieved when Irfaz finished eating and announced that he was done.
“Izel, once you’re done eating, send me the file of the collaboration. I’ll review it now,” he ordered. I’m letting it slide for now, but don’t you dare boss me around again.
“The iPad is in the room,” I said.
“Come on then, you’re done eating, right?” he taunted me.
He left, smirking at me.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to everyone at the table.
“Bhabhi, wait, I’m coming too. I’m done,” Dewan said.
“You’ve only eaten half a roti so far,” Mom said to him.
“My stomach is full,” he said and left with me.
We headed up the stairs and reached the first floor. “Bhabhi bhook ke mare meri jaan nikl jyegi. Bacha lo mujhe. Meri janaza uthne se pehle,” he said, flailing his arms.
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly.
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