Lut Gaye || لٹ گۓ

TWELVE | Don't Touch Her

"dil jala kay jagmaga doon main tere raastay."

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THE bastard had the nerve to laugh.

A vexatious scowl soiled Haider's features as he inspected the tall and thewy figure of the man in front of him.

In the face of not one, but six deadly weapons, he shouldn't even have been standing before him. He should've been grovelling at his feet; trembling in fear, begging for his life.

But here he was, unflinching and erect―staring right into his eyes with his lips curved into a wacky smile like he had just cracked a joke.  

It only made Haider want to crack every joint in his body.

As his contemptuous gaze raked his appearance, it was a bitter pill to swallow for Haider and admit that this scoundrel could certainly compete with him in the looks department. Compared to his immaculately groomed appearance, the man clothed in all black and leather had a cryptic and feral presence with a gleam of deviltry in his charcoal black eyes; he reeked of rebellion.

"Who said it's my last wish?" Zain vocalised with a haughtily slanted brow.

He hadn't laughed at Haider's statement but rather at the irony of the situation. He had only started building the castle of his love but Iman's almost husband had shown up without warning like a nasty tide, crashing it down.

Zain couldn't believe Haider had actually brought his armed lackeys to fuck him up. Was this guy really just a businessman?

He also couldn't believe that in his lovesick state, he had walked out of the apartment without carrying his damn gun.

Wow, ishq ne abhi se nikamma kardiya ghalib.

"I don't think you realize the predicament you are in right now. You're either awfully brash or extremely dumb." Haider fleered.

He did. Zain knew he was in a tight corner and his mind had already started devising different escape strategies but they all required him to indulge in a fight with the big―not to forget, equipped―men and who knew how nasty it would get so, instead, he decided to try another method.

Talk before you spar.

"Listen man, I know what happened was wrong, very wrong and I understand how you must be feeling but we can talk it out in a civil manner. Let's not resort to viole―"

A vicious punch packed by Haider didn't let him finish his sentence as his fist connected with his jaw, hard enough to to make him stumble back.

"Just seeing your face infuriates me. Makes me want to tear you limb from limb!" Haider howled; his sooty irises alight with a firestorm that he wanted to burn this fool into. 

It took Zain an immense amount of willpower to not smash his skull in retaliation. Slamming his eyes shut and letting out a low growl with his neck bent to the side, he took a moment to simmer down. When his eyes opened―narrowed to slits―he veered his head and shot Haider a razor sharp glance.

"You could end up behind bars for this," Zain hissed, pointing a finger at him. 

"Funny," retorted Haider with a scoff.

"You wish I was joking."

A muscle feathered in Haider's jaw as he eyed the man in black in disgust; outraged at the gibberish he was uttering. "Who do you think you are?"