I jerked awake, opening my eyes as the sunlight hit my face, and I tried to shield the brightness by covering my face.

I attempted to stretch, but my waist was being held tightly by two arms, and a solid chest was pressing against my back. I can feel someone touching my hair and breathing close to my neck.

I froze for a second as I tried to recall where I was and what had happened the day before.

"Good morning, darling. You're finally up," Daniel remarked, his voice raspy with sleep.

It dawned on me. Daniel, shit I jerked trying to move away.

Our Nikah from last night, as well as the threats and my cries, all flashed across my head like a flashback.

I closed my eyes and wished it had all been a dream, but it wasn't. This was real.

He grabbed my hip with both hands, turning me to face him as I tried to object. As he studied my face, he raised himself on one elbow.

I felt uneasy in his presence, and he continued eyeing me up and down like a freak, giving me the ick.

I was completely within his control and couldn't escape his grip because he was completely on top of me, yet he made sure not to crush me.

At this point, he kept staring at me, and I wished I could read his thoughts because I was starting to get quite irritated.

I mentally rolled my eyes right away, assuming that he was probably having those wicked ideas as usual.

Being in a bed with a man for the first time in my life still felt strange and foreign to me, so I tried to scoot away and create some distance between us. But, of course, he didn't let go, tightening his grip and pressing down even harder on me.

I could feel the heat radiating from his body as he clutched me as if I were about to flee him at any moment, which was, after all, my intention. I mean, if only I had the chance, I wouldn't hesitate to run; he's not wrong there.

His tattoos was even more noticeable in the daylight than it had been in the low light of last night. You could see a lengthy tattoo on his left shoulder. It began with a tribal pattern at the top of his shoulder, leading to a sword encircled by roses and a dragon.

Considering the design, it appeared to be a full canvas. My gaze was drawn to the smaller tribal tattoo on the right side of his neck. It was remarkably similar to the man who works with him; I believe his name is Alex.

I examined the remainder of his body and noticed numerous additional minor tattoos. He was made entirely of muscle, and his skin was covered in scars, some of which were round and sharp and seemed as though a bullet had ripped through his skin, while others were thin and long, as if a sword or a blade had cut straight through it.

At this moment, I became more frightened, and my heartbeat gradually accelerated. This man literally screamed danger to me.

He snapped his fingers in front of me, grabbing my attention and jolting me out of my reverie. "Do you like what you see, darling?" I immediately shook my head "no" in response to his mockery. He pressed his lips tight and smirked in response to my comment.

He reached up and pushed a very few locks of hair off my face when I flinched backwards, though he didn't care. I held my breath as he moved his fingers down my cheeks and then to my lips, moving in a downward motion toward my neck.

"Stop flinching whenever I touch you," he stated in a firm voice. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you," he says, expressing his contempt for me when I deny his touch.

I remained still for a moment and mentally begged to Allah to create some sort of miracle to keep him away from me. Astaghfirullah, I realized, I'm committing such a grave sin by sharing a bed with him in the first place.

"God, you're so damn beautiful," he whispered. "I still can't believe that this is real. You... right here, beside me, and on my bed," he said, his lips clenched.

"You must accept, since you are now my possessions, you must constantly obey. You're all mine," His face flushes with delight as he exclaims.

"I... I-I don't belong to anyone," I respond hesitantly.

I am my own person, with emotions I said to myself mentally. I'm not something that can be easily obtained.

With a little bit of courage, I attempted to say it but let it go for now. I lowered my eyes, expecting his rampage but received nothing in return and relaxed internally.

"Wrong babe," he added, smirking, "you've already signed your life away to me." I desperately attempted to get away from him, but I was unable to. I furrowed my brows and asked, "What did I sign my life away for?" I asked, as I received no answer other than a tight lip sneer from him.

"We only have a six-month contract," I tried to remind him once more, emphasizing the word "only."

"I recall quite well," he says, and I think to myself that whatever he is thinking may not be genuine because of the glare in his eyes. I can sense it in his aura. He can't go back on his words; it's impossible, I thought.

He was deep in his own thoughts as I took this as a chance to slip away from his hold, but he caught my hand the second I was about to take a step forward.

"Where are you going?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, he asks. He was about to speak when his phone rang, breaking up our small talk.

I kept looking at the ringing iPhone on his nightstand before realizing there was a revolver next to his pillow. I literally felt my heart stop when I saw that.

"Did I tell you to leave?" he asked, ignoring the ringing phone.

He noticed the fear in my eyes and the dread returning to every part of my body, and he tightened his hold on my hand. I stood frozen, my eyes fixed on the weapon when he said, "Look at me."

"Why is there a gun h-here?" I stumbled out of dread because I couldn't digest it all, but I was trying my best to compose myself as this isn't my first time seeing one. He's clearly involved in some malicious activity if I'm not mistaken. Who the heck has a gun simply lying around under their pillow?

I know having a gun around is common in my home country, especially in my family, but in this country, I don't think it's normal to have a gun lying around like that.

Even though I don't properly know the laws, I am certain that it is not normal. I suppose I'm just thinking too much right now.

"Zara?" He grabbed my jaw, forcing me to face him while being careful not to hurt me. He tried to reassure me by caressing my cheek and saying, "Don't worry, that's simply for our safety."

"I have many rivals in the business world; therefore, I need to be ready just in case," he explained as gently as he could.

"Since you'll be seeing them frequently, you'll have to get used to this." "It's a part of my life," he replies, keeping a straight face. A part of his life, what's that supposed to mean?

I need to get out of here as quickly as I can.

I pulled at my arm and muttered, "I have to go to the bathroom." I begged.

"And I missed my morning prayer, I need to make it up, please," I pleaded.

He snatched the phone off the side table and glanced at it before releasing his hold on my hand. He said, "Go, while I take this call," and I went to the bathroom.

I sprint towards the bathroom door, slamming it shut. Standing behind the door, I took deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves as best as I could. I finished my business within minutes.

I walked towards the sink and washed my hands clean, trying to remove his touch from my skin. I scrubbed repeatedly. I need to take a shower. I couldn't tolerate him touching me all over, I thought, until I looked up and noticed my reflection in the mirror.

I looked closely at my face in the mirror. My eyes were puffy from all the tears I'd shed. I started to cry once again when I saw all the markings he had left on my neck.

Even though it was just the start of another stretch of miserable days and nights in my life, I was ready for this day to be over quickly. I simply want everything to return to normal as quickly as possible.

Last week's stress came crashing down on me. I felt powerless, terrified, and furious. I was filled to the brim with hatred for my father, but much worse was the searing knife of disappointment and sorrow.

In exchange for his good reputation and the fact that he is Bashir's uncle's son, Abu and Feroze bhai gave me to a man they didn't even know. He gave me to him to do whatever he wanted, destroying my life.

The person whose responsibility it was to keep me safe and protected destroyed me and used me as a pawn in a game against his father to maintain his control and fortune.

Which suddenly made me a victim in this beast's hands, imprisoning me in his care. He attempted to coerce me into marrying him by using my brother's life as bait.

My eyes burned with tears, but the burden in my chest didn't ease. It grew heavier and heavier until I lost the ability to control it and breathed out a whimper.

I can't keep crying like this, I promise. For the next six months, I'll have to fight my way through all of this, so I'd better be strong. I told myself, "I can't simply keep crying." Despite my efforts, another choke managed to escape my lips.

Daniel's stern voice, shouting, "Get a hold of yourself," interrupted my stream of thought from behind me. I turned around to see him standing shirtless in the bathroom doorway.

I ignored the fact that he was still standing there, and he continued to observe me in the mirror as I turned back to face it. The epiphora of tears had erupted, and I was unable to control my emotions as I shielded my face with my hands.

Now I am unable to close them. Now, in order to relieve my stress and the heavy burden on my heart, I have to weep everything out. at least one last time.

I'm aware that I must stop. Unlike Haider, he hadn't assaulted or even raped me. But I just couldn't control my feelings. I continued to cry while covering my face with my hands. My face was drenched in tears.

If Daniel hadn't unexpectedly dragged me closer to him, I could have tripped over the stool or fallen on the lavish marble floor, pulling me towards him by my forearm.

He whispered, attempting to hold back his rage. "Don't ruin my fucking mood early in the morning," he said as he struggled to control his fury. I numbly nodded while attempting to contain my tears.

"That nod is meaningless." "Don't you think I can detect fear in your eyes as they mirror my gaze?" He says this in a stern voice. I just stood there perplexed because I had no idea what he expected me to do. It's not like I liked being completely terrified by him.

He does, after all, radiate a deadly aura. He doesn't understand that there was more to my collapse than just fear. He seemed unwilling to acknowledge how I felt as if my life was being taken from me.

I am practically in difficulty once more, and I am unsure of how to get out of it for the remaining six months without being caught by my family.

I don't even know how I'll be able to face my family after they learn what I did. They'll be prepared to kill me right there and then for damaging the family's high and mighty reputation.

"I'll say this just once more, and only once more. Stop crying," He spoke softly, as if he were being all sweet, but it was clear that he was threatening me. I stopped moving right away and allowed him to pull me up onto the counter and set me down. I suppressed my feelings as I sat motionless like a corpse, controlling them.

He continued, "We have to leave," and I could see the rage that had returned to his face. Before I entered the bathroom, he was not in a tense state. He'd just gotten a call, and it seemed like something had happened during the call.

He added, attempting to maintain his composure, "I have some work to deal with, so hurry up," he said, trying to keep his cool. "But first, I'll send you back to your family, and I won't be in New York for very long." He added, with a strained expression, "I hate that I have to leave, but it's urgent."

I was filled with hope when I learned that I would eventually be returning home. I attempted to ask him whether he was serious and not just joking with me, but he interrupted me by saying, "Remember to stay in touch with me at all times once you step out of my line of sight. Every day and anytime I ask to meet, I have to see you. "

"If not, you already know what the results will be," he stated. "I don't want any other men around you, so keep that in mind." I complied with his requests and softly nodded. I'm not sure why, but I suddenly felt both pleased and frightened by his protectiveness.

"Good," he said, looking at his watch. "I'll send the maid in to help you get ready, then come down to breakfast with her. We have a three-hour flight back to New York," he remarked.

I avoided speaking and simply nodded, taking care not to let him see how eager I was. Finally, I'm able to go back home. I then thought about Azaan Bhai. He is still there.

"My brother, what about him?" He seemed to be in a hurry, so I asked before he left. "Would you please let him go now?" He turned around and faced me. He said bluntly, "I've already done that," and walked away.

Again, I felt relieved letting out a deep sigh. I mumbled to myself, "Thank God," I'll finally be at home.

I was already dressed in a dark maroon dress with a gold belt to accentuate my waist, which the maid had handed me, and black tight leggings and long trench coat. thankfully it was modest with long sleeves.

I had just gotten ready after breakfast when Daniel walked into the room to fetch me. He placed his hand on my lower back as we walked away.

All his men and several other men dressed in black were waiting there as we got to the main foyer, in front of the main door.

The atmosphere in each one was fatal. I could only get a quick peek at them before my body started to shudder. I bet that anyone who tried to glance at them would be instantly dead from their deadly death stares. These men were not to be meddled with; they were three times as big as me.

I immediately lowered my gaze, not wanting to attract any of their attention as I was already scared out of my wits. We headed out as a black Range Rover was parked right in front of the main door.

He gently pressed me forward, and we walked down the steps towards the car. I stood still when his uncle rushed down, looking as tense and angry as ever.

He hurried over to Daniel as he began speaking in a foreign tongue.

Daniel, non perdere tempo questa volta e finiscilo per sempre. quegli stronzi devono provare un assaggio della loro stessa medicina per il pasticcio- (Daniel, don't waste any time this time and just finish him off for good. those fuckers need to to get a taste of their own medicine for mess-" he spoke when Daniel cut him off "I know what I have to do."

He gestured for me to get in the car. One of the men opened the door for me to get in, and I did as order. Soon enough, we were on our way to the airport.

For the last thirty minutes, after getting seated in the jet and taking off, I dozed off out of boredom. I had already finished browsing all the magazines on board.

At that point, I questioned his whereabouts. Since the aircraft's takeoff, he and his other men had been in one of the compartments.

I considered asking the flight attendant where he was but decided against it. She came back with a drink and held it out for me to accept when I eventually decided to just ask.

"I didn't ask for this," I said. She replied with a smile, "Mr. Ventalli instructed me to serve you, ma'am."

"Where is he?" I asked as she stared at me in confusion.

She explained, "He's in an important meeting." Since we were alone, I took advantage of the opportunity to learn more about him.

"Can I ask you a question?" As she stood near me, I asked her. She nodded her head to allow me to continue questioning her while trying to avoid coming off as very suspicious.

"Ask anything you like, excluding questions about Mr. Ventalli. I'm not allowed to talk about him in any way. I don't want to get into any problems. We're strictly ordered not to speak of him or his work with anyone."

She informed me ahead of time, "I don't think I can help with anything concerning him." Considering her concern about losing her job, I decided not to bother and simply let it go for the time being.

I have made sure that when I return home, that will be the first thing I have to do. "I need to know who this man is if I'm going to live the next six months as his alleged wife," I quote.

"It's okay; I understand," I reassured her as I sipped my orange juice for the time being.

"What about this meeting? How long do you think it will take?" I asked. I need to talk to him. There's so much on my mind.

"Why, do you already miss me?" I was startled at his sudden presence behind us both as he dismissed the flight attendant.

I averted my attention from the passing clouds outside the window as he sat beside me and asked, "Lost your interest that fast? ... Just a second ago you were curious about my whereabouts," he says teasingly as Omar and Alex follow him behind, sitting far near the back, away from us.

"What will I say to my family once I get home?" I asked, ignoring his remark and getting straight to the point. Ever since the day I married him, this question has been haunting my thoughts.

How will I defend myself? How will I explain how I fell into his trap? Forget about that; how am I supposed to explain to them that I spent all this time with this man at his house? not to mention mentioning this marriage.

"I can't tell them that I spent the entire week staying at another man's house." They'd probably declare me dead there and then for doing such a thing, excluding me from the family.

"Isn't that better?" He said this as I furrowed my brows in confusion...

"You'll end up with me, and I won't have to send you away," he said with a smirk.

"I'm serious," I said sternly.

"So, I'm I, '' he answered coldly. He quickly collected himself and dug into his pocket, retrieving a smartphone. He gently kissed both of my hands before placing the phone in my palm.

He gripped my hands tightly and said, "I've got everything sorted out," He continues, "Alex will lead you through everything; and as soon as you get home safely, contact me immediately."

"It already has mine, Alex's, and Omar's phone numbers saved.... Call right away if you need anything or are having issues."

He brushed his fingers across my hand and further exclaimed, "And if I'm not answering the phone, contact Alex or Omar; they'll definitely be there."

"I have my own, so I don't need this." I tried to resist the phone by shoving it in his direction.

"I'm sure you do, but from now on, you'll use this phone. It is for your protection. ...I warned you that I have enemies who may harm you if they learn who you are, and I'm not willing to put your life in jeopardy," he adds, gritting his teeth as I feel his rage beginning to bubble up again.

I turned to face him because I could tell he genuinely cared about my well-being. Why does this feel odd, though? Why is he affecting me with his simple compassion for me? I'm confused about what he wants from me. His use of language to express his concern for me while remaining as elusive as ever is driving me mad.