𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐚

𝟏𝟏 | 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

"Expectations are the root
of all heartache..."

Z A Y N A -

The hospital was immense, and lavishing one could tell the owner was rich just by looking at it. It was nothing like the hospital where Zayna has been last time, at Ami jaan's death. She sadly smiled at the old lady's memory.

"You are going to take care of someone, someone special but you have no right to ask who it is. Just take care of him and stay out of my business." Azhar walked arrogantly in the large corridors of the hospital, as he instructed her the - his - rules.

Zayna put her hands in the pocket of her scrub and nodded not before rolling her eyes. Azhar was walking in front of her while talking and she was mimicking him time to time which made the staff give her weird looks. As if she cares.

"Stop rolling your pretty eyes
at me, Z." He stopped making her stop as well. The look on her face was priceless, her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. In her shock she missed to noticed the way he called her.

"What if I don't? What will you do?" The sudden brust of confidence made him smile in amusement. Zayna was utterly attractive to this man - who happens to be husband. He was one creature that Allah had made with utmost care it seems, his tall body and perfect broad shoulders looked so masculine. Not to ad his sharp jawline with perfect amount of stubble suited him more than ever, his eyes. His eyes were her favorite to look at, the storm behind those pretty orbs were unreadable and even if someone did try to read the unfinished tale, they would be caught in the storm.

"Don't let that tongue of yours slip often, love because if that happens too much you might end up regretting it." His calm demeanor was anything but comforting, how could someone be so threatening even after being so calm?

"Now, as I said you should stay out of my business. If you don't interfere in my life, you'll be safe and if you choose to rebel against this rule I won't be there to safe you from the fire." Zayna didn't feel like his words matched his eyes. She was sure that if she did end up in the fire, he will always have her back. There was something in her, her gut feeling that told her to trust him.

But why? How could a mafia, a man no different of her brothers and father could be good for her?

I don't need any man, my Allah will protect me. She reminded herself to not let her faith down.

"Your business became my business the moment I accepted myself as Zayna Azhar Sultan, Mir. And now there is no coming because we are stuck with each other. So you either accept it or..." She left the sentence mid air. Azhar frowned deeply, this mere girl has the audacity to hold her chin high and speak back to him with such confidence.

She was about to go past him when he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest. "Trust me, Mrs.Azhar Sultan you don't want to know my business." He leaned too close to her and Zayna became uncomfortable much to his satisfaction.

She harshly removed her arm from his hold and glared at him before going in the room she was supposed to go in. Azhar followed her behind with a satisfied smirk lingering on his face.

"I am Zayna! Nice to meet you too buddy." She cheerfully said passing her hand through the little boy's head. Azhar entered the room and froze seeing her so carefree. He cleared his throat to make his presence known.

"Azhar! How are you? It's been long!" A young lady who might be two or three years younger than Zayna beamed in joy. She was taller than her, her cheeks hallow and sucked and not to miss the dark circles under her eyes. She was looking tired yet beautiful. Zayna couldn't deny the fact. The lady, which Zayna supposed is the little boy's mother hugged Azhar tightly and he hugged her back.