*****

"You are a fool, Aamir Hassan! A bloody big fool. You do realize you're never going to get a chance as good as this right?"

"For the millionth time, Zaheer, I will absolutely not risk anything happening to Mayra. I will not put her in the middle of the cross-fire. Do you realize how dangerous this can be? That bastard has already tried to kill her once, you want me to give him a second chance on a golden platter? What are you, nuts?" Aamir glared at the phone in his hand, somehow hoping that Zaheer would understand what an insane idea he was suggesting.

"You are insane, Hassan!"

Aamir rolled his eyes at his friend and said, "Look, there's got to be another way. I'm not going to tone down the security around Mayra so that this asshole has a chance to show his miserable face. I'm willing to wait for as long as it takes to catch the Bastard, but this time, I'll be calling the shots, Zaheer. Not him, not anyone else. And Mayra will be nowhere near him, ever again. Her safety is not up for negotiation. Especially not tonight. I've worked so hard for her to enjoy whatever I've planned for her. All hell's gonna break loose soon enough, my friend, and I want one special memory before that happens."

Zaheer paused before asking, "So, you believe that Mayra is innocent in all of this?"

Aamir didn't hesitate before replying, "absolutely."

"Fine," said Zaheer, conceding defeat of the argument. "I'll be there by eight. You sure you got everything? Do you need my help with anything else?"

"No, thanks," Aamir said, his excitement and nervousness growing. "I've already checked it all out. The hotel manager assured me that he's done everything to my specifications."

"Well, he better," Zaheer laughed. "You're renting out the ballroom of a five star hotel for this night, and paying a fortune on it too!"

"For Mayra, its nothing at all. And if she likes it even a bit then it'll all be worth the time, energy, money and effort."

"I'm sure she'll like it, dude. She'll love it! You've put in so much effort, I know she will appreciate it!"

"Thanks man."

"Anytime, bro. By the way, shouldn't you be leaving for the hotel now? You want to be late for your own party?"

Aamir scowled at the wall clock that chimed seven-thirty. "Damn! Your right! My family takes forever, I tell you. I've been pacing the living room for the last fifteen minutes in this tuxedo! Ugh! I'll see you at the party. Salaam."

"Salaam."

Annoyed at the delay his family was causing, Aamir marched up to the winding marble staircase of his house and bellowed, "WILL YOU GUYS COME ALREADY? WE'RE SO LATE!"

Within seconds the whole family was racing out the front door. Aamir stood by the door glaring at everyone as they left and they had the grace to look at him sheepishly. Tapping his foot impatiently he waited for his beloved to make an appearance.

Zahra came hurtling in the hallway, hopping on one foot and sliding her other foot in her golden sandal. Spotting Aamir she said, "Bhai! Listen! I'm going with Faiza Aapa and Irfan Bhai. Fariha Aapa is coming on her own. Everybody else is going in Dad's car. So it's just you and Bhabhi okay?"

Aamir looked at his little sister astonished. "Who planned all of this?"

Zahra clutched Aamir's shoulder and pushed the sandal on to her foot before standing up and saying, "Faiza Aapa. She gave us all instructions well in advance so that no confusion occurs later. Oh God, Dad is getting angry! Bye! I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Zahra ran out to sound of a car horn being furiously honked, leaving a stunned Aamir behind. What on earth was Faiza up to?

The more he tried to make sense of what was happening, the more confused he got. No matter how much he tried to implicate Faiza, she would do something that totally smashed his theories. She stood up against her own sister in support of Mayra, this was the same woman whose ingenious plans had created so much trouble in Mayra's life. Why was she doing these things to help Aamir reconcile with Mayra yet still keeping in touch with that Bastard?

He really wanted to punch something. Preferably Asshole's nose.

The sound of footsteps had him turning around and the vision he beheld knocked his breath away.

"Oh my God."

Walking slowly down the staircase, wrapped in a beautiful and elegant dress in deep red, with the grace and poise of age-old royalty, was his wife. His Mayra. His Princess.

His chest constricted with the simultaneous burst of pride and intense love for the woman so beautiful that it was hard to think of anything else. He stared at her, unblinking. He was afraid to blink even for the fraction of a second, afraid that she would vanish by the time he opened his eyes. With each step that she took in his direction, the urge to pull her into his arms multiplied exponentially. Never before in his life was it so hard to hold himself back.

With all of her concentration solely upon the high heels Faiza insisted she wear, Mayra walked slowly down the stairs, her gaze firmly on the floor lest she go tumbling down. She was still reeling from Faiza's demands for the night - the clothes, the jewellery, the make-up and the accessories. Faiza had gone all out to make sure that Mayra looked her stunning best for the night. The party was meant to be a celebration of Aamir's success with some international firms and all eyes were going to be on Aamir, as usual - a fact which Mayra voiced to an insistent Faiza. But she was no match against the combined forces of Faiza and Zara. Eventually, she gave up and did as they instructed, to the extent of risking her life wearing toothpick-like heels.

She reached the foyer where she could see Aamir in her peripheral vision as she straightened her clothes and said, "sorry, I'm late. Faiza made me go through all this and.."

She broke off at the sight of Aamir Hassan, dressed splendidly in a black tuxedo, hair gelled back and his sharp gaze stuck at her face and his mouth open in shock.

"Umm. Is everything ok?"

Aamir shook his head clear of the primal male thoughts that clogged his mind of claiming his woman desperately. "Yes, yes. Everything is fine. Uh.. shall we leave?"

Mayra nodded.

Instead of turning around and walking out the door, Aamir approached Mayra and her heart started to hammer with fear as it did every time he drew close to her, a sad after-effect of her abuse.

He did a little bow and extended his hand. "May I have your hand, my lady?"

Mayra stared at his smiling face, unsure of what to do. As crazy as their life had gotten in the past few days, a part of her had changed, become less fearful. But that hadn't been a good thing at all. For while she felt that she was finally losing some of her paranoia, she was deathly afraid that she was letting her guard down too soon. She lifted her big brown eyes full of apprehension to his and he sucked his breath in at the amount of fear in them.

He knew she was easing in, slowly going back to normal as she addressed each of her fears at her sessions with Gaurav, but he wasn't under delusion whatsoever that she was going to get back to normal as easily as he wished.

"Fifty years from now Mayra, if there's still a part of you that refuses to trust me and can't let you trust me enough to give your hand, you will stand here and you will look up. At that moment when I'm old and weak and walk with a cane, you will see that I'll still have my hand held out for you. I'll be here for you, waiting for you, forever." He sighed and turned around. Feeling sad, he held the door open for her and she walked out quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He locked the door and headed towards the car but Mayra had already taken her seat inside. Sighing, he sat down too an started to drive. In an attempt to create some conversation he asked, "So.. Faiza did all this?"

Startled it her thoughts Mayra looked at him. "Yes," she said. "She did."

"Remind me to thank her later," he said with a smile. "You look absolutely stunning."

'You ugly bitch!'

Mayra shook her head and looked out the window at the cars gliding by. Which words of Aamir were true? The ones he shouted at her in moments of unleashed fury or the ones whispered to her from depths of guilt. She knew she couldn't take his words seriously for she had seen what her place was effectively every time he wanted to show it to her by taking her to parties such as this.

'Who is that?'

'Nobody.'

It still hurt, though not as much as before. She had come to accept her flaws as incurable and unchangeable deficiencies of her personality. Her lack of self-esteem was so big a part of her life that she lived with it every second and it went with her wherever she went. She knew she was ugly, weak and pathetic. A pitiable excuse of a miserable woman.

"You do look beautiful, Mayra," Aamir said sadly. "I don't know what I can do to make you believe it."

"There is nothing left of me to believe in," she said in a quiet voice, still not looking at him. "I'm ok with that."

"Darling, please. I know I am the only one responsible for it but please, I'm begging you, stop punishing yourself."

Silence descended once more in the car and gloom gripped Aamir's heart. Was she going to be like this all night? Was all of his effort going to be laid waste?

Soon they reached the massive hotel where a red carpet had been rolled out and the media was waiting desperately to catch the young successful billionaire and his lady love. Flashes were lighting the night as music, laughter and chatter rang through the entrance.

A moment of anticipatory silence was caused at the sight of Aamir is a resplendent black tuxedo, looking handsome as ever but the moment Mayra stepped out of the car, the cameras went crazy.

"Look here!"

"One photo!"

"Aamir Hassan! Aamir Hassan!"

Aamir plastered a smile on his face and draped his arm across Mayra's waist and whispered to her, "relax. Just smile and walk, I'll handle them."

Aamir led them to a reporter who immediately started chattering questions to which Aamir leisurely replied. Suddenly, one of them asked, "Would like to comment on how your lovely wife has contributed to your success? After all, your recent successes have come to you after you married her."

Mayra could feel, rather than see how he stiffened slightly. She knew he was annoyed even before he answered, "you are very well aware of how I dislike to discuss my personal life, but you are absolutely right. I owe my success to her. She has been more than an incredible support and a wise friend. I can't thank her enough."

Even before Mayra could recover from the shock of what was happening, the reporter turned to her, "and would you like to say something about your husband's success?"

Her hands shook and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. Aamir was about to interfere when Mayra found herself saying, "his achievements are the result of his hard work and all of his family are very proud of him."

The reporter quickly changed the topic, "you look quite stunning tonight, Mrs Hassan, who designed this beautiful dress?"

"Uh.. no big designer, I assure you. I prefer to keep my attire simple and in line with the specifications of Hijab."

Aamir was stunned and so was she. She never knew she was capable of doing that and before any other questions could be thrown her way, he pulled her away. "You were brilliant, Sweetheart!"

Mayra looked flustered as the walked into the hotel. Khalid walked up to him immediately and said, "Everything is set. You ready?"

Aamir nodded and looked at Mayra. She looked back at him questioningly - the Red Carpet, the media. What else had he done that she had no idea of?

"We're ready," said Aamir, confidently.

Khalid have him a smile and turned to Mayra and said, "Get ready to be blown away."

Now, she started to panic. What on earth was happening?

*****