Chapter 11

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He shook his head, acting confused.

He was a politician, if he could fool millions into believing his lies this measly man would be nothing.

However, there was something about this man, that felt different. Familiar even. 

A piece of paper was thrusted into his hand and the man began walking down the alleyway. 

He looked down at the scrap piece of paper laying in his hand and then moved his gaze to look at the house Alayna had scampered into. The decision was hard but he knew he had instilled enough fear into his petite wife for her to neither rebel or try to escape. 

And so, he followed the man, there was nothing that was going to stop him from finding out the truth now. 

The man stopped at the black rusting gates of rundown and seemingly burnt haveli. The name plate caught Zunair's eye, it read the 'Hussain Haveli'. 'Interesting' he thought 'my susar ji has brought me to himself' he chuckled in his mind. 

Something was definitely going to go wrong. 

Especially if Ismail Hussain was involved. 

He pushed the gates with a light force and they swung open, creaking loudly. Alerting those inside the ruined haveli of his arrival. 

The president of Pakistan had arrived. 

Had arrived for answers to his many unanswered questions and would leave with his ear being filled deadly poisonous venom. For Ismail Hussain was involved in this game and that man was a twisted, shrewd being whose lust for money knew no limits. 

Zunair was just a pawn in his game. A pawn that would surely destroy himself because of his devastatingly ruinous ways. 

He would burn in fire that Ismail would create and won't be able to breath freely ever again. 

For he was a pawn in Ismail's game and puppet. Someone who could be easily manipulated and moulded to meet the needs of another. 

There was no hope for Zunair. 

Ismail had seen his stupidity during rallies, conferences and petitions. He was an arrogant man whose hands had managed to catch a few bills and that had caused him to believe that he was undefeatable. 

It was naivety. Sure, Zunair had won majority of the males hearts in Pakistan, but the women all opposed. Ismail had enough experience in the political game, that the unspoken rule was to charm and win everyone's heart, not one particular groups.

Zunair had walked in with a straight posture and a proud aura. 

"Why have you called me here, susar ji?" 

Ismail scowled at the endearment his son-in-law had given him. 

"I've heard that your looking for Armaan Malik, is that so?" Ismail asked whilst taking a large puff from his cigar. 

When Zunair didn't speak, Ismail looked up to find him pointing a gun straight at Ismail's head. What he didn't realise were that there were three red lights dancing around on his chest, pointing directly to where his heart was. 

Ismail tutted, "My dear damad, why are pointing a gun at your pyare susar?" 

Zunair didn't reply, kept his stance and slowly began pulling the trigger. 

"Zunair, I have the answers you want. If you kill me, how will you understand why your father decided to cheat on your mother?" Zunair's finger let go completely. He took a seat on the other chair, seated across from Ismail and in a raspy tone he ordered, "Speak". 

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