. . .

. . .

~

"And whenever you give your word, say the truth." (Qur'an 6:152).

~

Lucas is conflicted about whether the employees taking a day or two off will be beneficial or detrimental to the company's image. Zoya makes the decision for her PR manager — telling him the damage has already been done — and announces a two day break to her staff. Which seems like too little to get some things cleared up yet at the same time too much that will prod at the press' suspicions.

Either way, the seesaw teeters wildly.

Zoya drives around aimlessly, attempting to gather and trap her thoughts on a leash. She is in such a mad rage that she has half a mind to barge into Zaki Ahmed's office and give him a piece of her mind. The already shaky balance in her has been turned wildly upside down, making it hard for her to sit still without her insides rattling in restlessness. She is so focused on her mission to destroy her rival, so blinded by her anger that she doesn't realize where she is driving until she is directly in front of the headquarters of Paki Enterprises.

Letting out a groan, she places her foot on the pedal and is about to turn her car around when her phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, she huffs out a sigh. "Not now, Sameer. Not now." She declines his call. Seconds later, however, her phone rings with his call again. She declines once more but when it rings for the third time, she gives up and is about to receive the call when someone catches her eye. Abruptly, she slams on the brake.

Because walking out of the headquarters of Paki Enterprises is none other than Sumaiya Akhtar.

Zoya's eyes widen, confusion coating her features.

What is she doing here?

Zoya would not have known it was her had she not recognized the flash of green on her wrist. The band she always wears. Sumaiya's eyes are red-rimmed and she blows her nose with a tissue. Her hood is lifted above her head to conceal part of her face, and she darts her eyes this way and that before edging towards the parking lot.

Zoya's foot on the brake loosens in shock and her car almost slams into the one parked in front of her. She puts her car and grabs a scarf from her backseat, knotting it around her. Placing her shades on her eyes, she steps outside and begins to follow Sumaiya from a distance.

The woman keeps darting her head this way and that, and at one point Zoya has to turn around and begin walking the other way to avoid her suspicious glances.

A man rushes out of the headquarters and hurries to approach Sumaiya. He cautiously darts his eyes around and gestures for her to head into a well hidden alcove to their left, and the two disappear from Zoya's sight.

Now Zoya is extremely confused. Her heart rate begins to escalate as she inches towards the alcove, careful to stay close enough to hear but far enough to run away if need be. Somewhere in her clouded, rattled mind, she gets a bad feeling and finds the sanity to pull out her phone and press record.

" . . . can't do this anymore. I've told you already." Sniff.

"You weren't doing a very good job of it in the first place," the man hisses. "Chumming up more than necessary to Zoya Zameer — "

"You told me to make her trust me!" Sumaiya says indignantly. Zoya presses a hand to her mouth to keep from gasping.

"You know damn well she trusted you quick enough! You got too attached. You didn't want to do this in the first place, and making designs and organizing photoshoots that raised her stocks like crazy was your way of making your guilt go away. I told Mr. Zaki we could have hired anybody — "

"No. You're wrong. I just — "

"You just what, Sumaiya?"

Zoya leans closer, eyes wide. She hears a loud sob, then a series of sniffs. She feels as if her rapidly palpitating heart may stop.

"Oh, please stop this BS drama. I don't have time for this," the man spits. "You had one job, woman."

"But . . . But I did it! Ms. Zoya trusts me now," she indignantly says in between sobs. Zoya's breath catches in her throat.

"There's more to it than that. Make her trust you, and then when something bad happens, support her through it. Let her see she can still trust you during a bad time. And then your job is over. But you didn't have to chum up to her so much. You didn't have to be so damn supportive of the company. If that incident with her employee hadn't happened last week, Zameer would have continued on its happy and forever upwards journey. Because of what you've done for them.

"What's the point?" Sumaiya mumbles bitterly. "She trusts me, you got what you wanted, so I should be allowed to quit all this now. You destroyed her company's name and . . . and ruined Haroun's reputation. Who, by the way, Zaki promised he wouldn't include — "

"So that's what this is about?" Comprehension laces the man's voice. "You weren't supposed to get attached to the bait," he hisses furiously.

Sumaiya continues to sob, and Zoya is immobile, too shocked to move.

"That's what it is, isn't it?" he whispers angrily. "You got attached to your 'fiancé?'"

There is absolute silence for a few seconds, save for a sniffle or two from Sumaiya, before she whispers, "Have you met Haroun Suleiman? It's hard not to fall in love with him."

Zoya gasps, feeling as if she may fall, as if she is having an out-of-body experience. This is too much. What with everything that has already happened, this is too much. Her phone clatters to the floor, and abruptly the hushed conversation stops.

The man steps outside the alcove and squints for a moment before he recognizes who is standing in front of him. He lets out a loud cuss and brings a hand up to cover his face in agitation. Sumaiya follows, and her eyes flutter as if she may faint. She stumbles against the brick wall.

Zoya grabs her phone front the ground and holds it in front of her like a shield, eyes darting between the two of them. Her heart is beating like the blades of a helicopter. "You have two seconds to tell me what the hell is going on here." Her voice is steel.

And there it is. That stupid, stupid voice in Zoya's mind again. But you already know what's going on, don't you?

"Ms. Zoya, I can explain — " Sumaiya starts.

"Shut up and don't say a word." Zoya's eyes bug out of her head. "I'll talk to you in the car." She turns to the man. "What the hell does Zaki Ahmed do for you that you all fall at his feet?" Her voice is appalled, almost wondrous. "Huh? What is it that he gives you or holds over you to make you guys commit such atrocities?"

The man holds a hand up, eyes on the phone in Zoya's hand. The phone that is recording his every word. "Zoya Zameer, I need you to relax. This is all just a big misunderstanding — "

"Shut up." Her voice is barely a whisper, eyes as wide as saucers. "Don't say another word." Then, to keep him on his toes, to haunt his sleep, she says, "I will take this to court."

His eyes widen, and he reaches forward as if to grab the phone out of her hand but she steps back quickly. "Don't you dare come near me. Oh, yeah, I'll take this to court. Let's see what your beloved Zaki does about that," she scoffs. "He's going to let you rot in jail, do you realize that? He doesn't give a damn about anyone."

The man holds both his hands up in surrender. "Hey, listen, I was just following orders."

"Aren't we all?" Zoya says mockingly as she steps back slowly, keeping her eyes on him.

And then he lunges forward, attempting to grab the phone from Zoya's hand. In doing so, he wraps his around around her upper body and suddenly, Zoya freezes in shock. Her eyes widen as she is thrown into too many horrible memories to count, and her breaths begin to come in short gasps.

But she does not let go of the phone.

Sumaiya stands there, helpless eyes darting between the two of them as they push and pull one another. "Stop," she whimpers. "Please."

Disgust runs through Zoya. The man's hands seem to be all over her, everywhere. She yells at him, curses at him to let go. Her vision begins to turn black, flashbacks resurface through her mind, and her grip loosens on the phone.

And then suddenly, the weight of the man's hands is lifted off of her. He is thrown back onto the ground, eyes darting around wildly.

And in front of Zoya stands Sameer, breathless. His eyes are wide, chest heaving up and down. "This is why you should pick up my calls."

. . .