Spitfire? Was he referring to me? A surge of confidence hits me at his words and I cup his face looking into his eyes but his hands don't stop wandering. I bring my face closer, as he stares at my lips. I have never felt a stronger urge than now and every fiber in my body is chanting just one thing, kiss him. Before I close the distance between us, his hands hold mine, moving away.

He curses something under his breath as he steps back and disappointment washes over my body and soon hurt overpowers it. He places the towel around my shoulders walking out of the room without sparing me another glance.

Mohsin. bloody. fucking. Baig.

I jerk off the towel from my shoulders, walking straight under the shower to bathe. I rinse the sweat away trying not to think about his soft lips, or his sensual fingers. I hurriedly get out leaving my wet hair open without using a hair dryer. I wear a plazo set with golden embroidery rushing downstairs to serve his lunch.

I don't find him in the lounge or the kitchen. I quickly heat his food setting it on a plate and walk towards the study. As expected, his nose is struck in a file which he seems to be studying. I clear my throat and he still doesn't look up, ah my favourite version of him, the asshole mode.

"I got your lunch. Phupi said if you don't have lunch, she is kicking you out of the house. Now be a good boy and eat." I speak like a school teacher.

He places his file on the table, still not looking up.

"I thought you were at Khan Villa."

"Oh yeah? I bet that's not what you were thinking half an hour ago with your lips on my skin." I smile sardonically. How dare he ask me to go there! This is my place now. That's when he looks up at me, with a poker face of course. Now I have his attention.

"And I am my own person, I don't take orders from anyone. Not even uptight CBI officers." I sass.

"Of course. Hamari aukaat hi kya hai Mahira Khan ke samne ki wo ham mamuli mulazimon ki sunein." He says sarcastically getting up from his chair settling on the loveseat beside his desk. Who keeps a love seat in the studyroom?

I hand over his plate to him settling on the seat beside his, "Mohsin! What are you talking about? Shohar ho tum mere, kyun nai sunungi tumhari baat?"

With the way his hand froze when I said shohar tells me he is surprised with my reply. What was so surprising anyway, it is true.

He takes a moment to chew the bite and then chuckles sarcastically.

"Shohar? Badi jaldi yaad aagaya ki kya lagta hun main. Teen saal se to bas inteqaam ka zariya tha, nai?" His words are plain normal but something between us has changed which is why I can clearly read the pain in his plain tone. And they hurt me more than they probably did him.

Ya Allah! Ye kya kar diya maine. Anjane mein itni badi bhool.

Mujhe inteqaam ke alawa kuch dikha hi nai. Mohsin jitni respect is rishte mein deserve karta tha, wo respect dena to dur maine to is rishte ko accept bhi nai kiya.

After his food is done, I stretch my hand to take his plate but he shakes his head in a no, walking to the kitchen himself. I follow him to the kitchen filling him a glass of water which he reluctantly takes from me. After gulping his water under my creepy stare, he keeps the glass on the counter moving out.

He stops at the door, "Khana kha lena. Jab tak yahan ho, hamari mehmaan ho. Main nai chahta khatirdaari mein koi kami reh jaaye." His cold words and dismissing tone is not lost on me, I cradle my hand close to my heart as the hurt makes it's way in. Two tears drop off my eyes, disappearing into my clothes.

Mehmaan!

Sahi kaha usne.

Mehmaan hi to hun main is ghar mein.

Mohsin ki life mein.

Then why does it prick my heart?

Why do I feel like strangling him to death for having sputtered that?

Why can't Mohsin Baig ever talk to me politely?

Why are his words having such an impact on me?

Why can't I get his gorgeous hazels out of my mind?

Fuck it. Mahira Altaf Khan will be the death of me one day. She boils my blood to the extent I can't seem to think straight. And I rarely lose control. I bang my table hard as again the memory of what happened today resurfaces.

Flashback

I woke up to my phone ringing and I unconsciously look around to get a glimpse of her but she is not in the room. Usually, she would be under the shower by the time I get up but today there is no noise. I frown at the unusuality of it but pick up the blaring phone. It is an unknown number but I know who is on the other end the moment I hear the voice, Umer Riyaz. Mahira's best friend and partner in crime, he says he knows someone that has a direct link with Rashid Zara and also has proof against him.

Usually, it is the police department that gets tips like this but since we are investigating Rashid Zara in the Pokhriyal murder case, we have full authority to go there and grab the man. By the time he is done, I know it has something to do with Amir and if there is Amir then ob-fucking-vioulsy Mahira is involved.

I get out of bed rushing out of the house towards H & Co. By the time I reach the spot, the officers are standing in the meeting room looking closely at another small door that is half open and yelling can be heard from inside. I soon deduce it's Mahira inside and she is letting out all the anger on him. The pain and heartbreak in her voice sends a pang through my chest, but I shrug it away and the also the anger that courses through me when I realize she still fucking feels for that fucktard.

It is clearly evident, in the fact that whatever she does it has to do with him, the way she was crying holding his Gift Card on wedding night. How her eyes shine with anger and loathe when he is before her, I know it is anger but still. He gets all her time and emotions.

Will she ever see me? Will she ever feel my presence or it is only going to be that jerk for the rest of our lives!

Enough. Too much heart to heart they have had, I barge in the room only to lose my breath at the sight. The biggest criminal is hugging my wife.

This bastard just invited his death upon himself. How dare he even lay his gaze on my woman?

"Hands off my woman, you criminal!" I shout and he stops pushing her more into him. This sick piece of shit needs third degree torture for forcing a woman. Blind rage overpowers me as I thrash him against the wall. I beat him black and blue for the next ten minutes when somebody holds me from behind. He is almost unconscious by the time I am done with him but he still managed to stare at my girl while leaving.

I will have him killed and no force can stop me. My clenched fists automatically open as her soft, shivering body presses into mine from behind and it takes everything within me to step away. But I need it, I am too mad at her for walking into this trap of his, and she didn't even bother telling me about any of this.

I don't turn around to look at her when she's leaving, because I know I will lose control and forget all of her deeds if my eyes catch hers. She fucks up my brain pretty bad as it is, her innocent black eyes can render me paralysed without a second thought.

Rohan steps beside me handing over all the proofs they had gathered. Only God knows what risks she took to get this, my crazy spitfire!

"Sir! You hit the guy pretty hard. He needs to be hospitalized if we want him alive for an interrogation. You might face consequences for this unauthorized beating." Rohan says calmly.

I shake my head, not worrying about the damn consequences.

"You don't get it Rohan, nobody touches my wife without her will and gets away with it. He will pay, with his life for the damage he caused today." I spit, my anger rising again. I walk out of the room, treading towards the jeep where he has been handcuffed and seated. I look him in the eyes, loving the terrified expression on it.

"You will pay with each dying breath in your lungs for the hurt you caused my wife, you scoundrel!"