Gloomy. All I feel these days is the gloominess surround me like a shell. The world is a scary movie. And when the movie ends, you leave behind a trail of tears in the wake of the cursed ones that get to live it more.

Fahad. One word description for my entire world. After Mama left us, he was my only source of sunshine. The darkness enveloped every crevice in my body. He was the one that pulled me out of the darkness after Mama's death. We slowly became the closest. There was next to nothing we didn't share. We did most things together as kids. Even when we grew up, most of our day was spent in each other's company.

The only thing that we differed in, was our career choices. I was more into business, chose to expand it abroad. Whereas my stupid brother thought politics could help improve people's lives. When it doesn't. It's just a dirty game of chess where the most cunning man wins. He chose to dive into the depths of this dirt, forgetting that he was too pure for this venomous world. And he lost his life to it.

My breathing gets harsh thinking about my brother's beat body. He was almost unrecognisable. Every part had ugly blue and red bruises. I had just landed back in India, eager to meet my little brother but what I was greeted with instead, is him wrapped in a coffin. I still shake at the horror of it. How can someone be so merciless? Wasn't he human? For some enmity shit that my Fadu did not even believe in, they put him through so much pain.

I didnot believe in this rivalry too, until they sent back my brother on a stretcher. If they think they are safe by tying me with their daughter, they have another thing coming. Those fuckers that killed my brother were sentenced to jail in their village, and they added another unwanted burden on me, their daughter.

Honestly, I know she is not at fault here. And that's not why I refuse to accept her, the fact that my brother lost his life and their men couldn't even be sentenced to death irks me to no end. Her people have my brother's blood in their hands. And if they think it's that easy to overcome my wrath, they are stupid.

I didn't even want to see her face. That's why I left to U.K the same night we got married. For the one month I was there I couldn't do anything apart from bawling my eyes out in memory of my brother and manage the business.

But when Saif phoned me and said Dad was also in agony and his health was deteriorating, I knew I had to go back. I can't lose the only family I have left. When I returned, I was shocked to see that girl is still here. Her clothes in my closet were proof enough and I felt like I couldn't breathe until I destroyed them. That's when my eyes found her.

I knew it was her when I saw our khandani ring on her finger. She was a beauty, no doubt there. But not enough to have my undivided attention. After that, I steered clear of her way. I had no intention of even seeing her face again. But I hadn't failed to notice how she was handling the haveli and its people like her own.

First I thought, she is pretending. But when I saw her cheering up Dad's mood and taking care of him like his own daughter would, I had to think again. I don't know what game she was playing, her doe eyes screamed innocence. Her mannerism stated she had accepted all of this as her own now.

But I was burning in the fire of revenge. My brother could have lived longer, would have had a happy life but these fucking murderers had to snatch that away from him. They had no right. No bloody right to take him away from me. And I promise they will pay. Sarpanch Saleem will pay dearly amongst all for taking my brothers death lightly and not sentencing those criminals to death.

I am shaken out of my thoughts when my door opens, and my wife comes in. The same wife who did not even bother to check if I am alive for the last three days. Usually I don't express my feelings, I am the reserved kind but seeing her blank look I couldn't stop myself from commenting about her coming to see me after so long.

It has been a torture. Ever since I regained consciousness three days ago, I have been counting minutes to see her again. I always try to hurt her and it backfires on me. That day, when I left her in the market between those hungry men, without helping her. I had seen the broken look in her eyes, I was such an asshole for doing that to her. I thought seeing her in pain would give me some relief but all it did was give me more pain than I was already bearing, so I followed her silently back to the haveli. I had left in the car with the intention of not coming back again but I was too ashamed of myself to not come back. I had followed her silently as she wandered on the streets like a helpless soul. I wanted to punch myself for doing that to her.

I have no idea why I am developing this sympathy towards her. But that angered me more, I needed to stop. She is just a means to an end. We have no future together. But I think I hit my head pretty bad in that accident. Because ever since I got up in that hospital, I can't stop myself from noticing her. Her splendid figure, the womanly curves that she does a good job at hiding. Her big doe eyes, how she took care of me like I am made of glass for the whole week after I got discharged.

But I had to be an asshole again and spit absolute bullshit about how I don't trust her. When she has given me no reason to not trust her. I am a sadist, hurting her first and then relishing in the pain that it gives me too.

When I saw her sitting with Saif that day, something in me wanted to punch the daylights out of him. Why the fuck are they so close? He needs to stay away from her.

She smells divine, I deduce as I take in her fragrance. I could get addicted to it. I had pulled her on me when she was unbuttoning me, I just couldn't resist the urge anymore.

Then I pushed her away, complaining like a kid. I think the medicine has gotten to my head. But I frown when I see her lack of response. She is usually too affected with my presence. I had secretly loved the way she stuttered before me the first time we spoke.

She doesn't respond to my words but continues to remove my shirt and scrub me clean. I can feel her soft hands on my body, which makes me want to do sinful things to her.

Once she is done, she pulls back and goes into the closet to get me a shirt. She is going to leave me alone here. Ugh!

When she gets some blue shirt out, I just shake my head.

"I don't want to wear a shirt."

She looks up at me startled. Then turns back again to find something else. What the hell? Why is she acting like that? Stupid Hoor.

She gets a black tee in her hand. I shake my head again.

"I don't like black." I just love it. But she doesn't need to know that.

She goes back again with a poker face. The next time she comes out is with a half dozen of tees in both hands. I pout, why is she so desperate to leave me alone. I grudgingly choose the navy blue one.

I get up from my sleeping position with a little difficulty. It still hurts everywhere. I sit straight and she puts my head into the cloth inserting my hands next. I place my hands on her waist when she is pulling my tee down my body. Her breathing hitched and I smirk. Trying to act strong, are we?

Let's have some fun.

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Hi there, the most awaited part is here. What do you think of Asad's thought process?

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