❝ You are fucking mine!!, get that straight in your so called brain ❞ he roared, rage dripping from his eyes, jaw clenched, it was as if the four walls around him had started shaking in fear.
❝ Mr. Khan, I'd rather die than be yours❞
.
Fayra Shoaib...
The luminous Moon illuminated the place, and the soft breeze of midnight blew with a mildly soothing tone, making the trees stride with the same rhythm. The stars twinkled across the sky, showing off their glimmer all over the world. Permitting the dwellers to immerse in their elegance.
“Where the fuck are you Musa? ” The infuriated voice of Aroosh in the background drew drunk Musa’s attention, the instant Musa received the call, he could perceive how frustrated Aroosh would sound, his ocean-blue eyes caught a glimpse of his wristwatch.
The clock stuck half past twelve, his head was throbbing in excruciating pain, and his eyes turned red. He surveyed his surroundings to make sure no soul was around, his mind reminded him the scene in the club, he sauntered towards the car losing consciousness.
“Musa”
“You there buddy?”
The Annoying Aroosh kept calling for his friend; Musa’s fingers caressed his forehead to alleviate the uninvited pain.
“Spit it out!” howled Musa, his one statement was sufficient to make anyone shake in fear, whilst Aroosh swallowed the lump in his throat, he knew his friend’s outrage was something dangerous which he clearly didn’t want to face, and at moments like these restraining one’s mouth is the wise thing to do.
“We caught Ahmed, come to the warehouse.” Aroosh apprised, his voice held fear within, he knew his friend Musa. Musa wasn’t just a business tycoon; He was also a ruthless Mafia, A hunter. That is what his gang is called, they kill and drink blood, for Musa bullets are the language of criminals, those who cross their path with him, end up getting their names wiped out from the world.
Ahmed was a high profile burglar who had smuggled one of the paintings from Khafifa, he had deceived Musa by convincing him that the painting was legitimate and they agreed upon a sum, after the contract was signed, It was decided he would give the painting to Musa, but the man was fool enough to run away, not knowing Musa’s reflection runs with criminals and cheaters alike.
He hung up the call, started the ignition, the car roared as he pressed on the accelerator, He had gone insane, he accelerated the car at an increased pace, not giving a flying shit about anything or anyone in his way. He parks the car at the side, darting towards his warehouse surrounded by trees shading the place, an enormous door opened, people bowed and greeted their master, whilst he strode in with his shoulders high.
His black sleeves crumpled, his muscular arms on display, his ocean blue eyes void of any emotions, the veins on his neck popping out, and his jaw tightened. His hair was messed up yet he looked breathtaking to look at.
His eyes met the words inscribed in bold letters ‘Room – 8’ he pushed the door open, his eyes burning rage, he fumed, numerous things playing in his mind, the walls held nothing but sympathy towards the poor man who Musa Hassan Khan would hunt down today.
“Surrender Ahmed, otherwise master won’t hesitate to slit you into two.” the familiar voice of Altamash rang in the background, Musa’s eyes confronted the pair of familiar eyes, his eyes encountered Ahmed, the man was caged in a wooden chair, his hands tied with a rope, his cheeks and lips bruised, his white shirt held blood stains.
“There is no time for surrender, slit his throat and feed him to the pigs.” The authoritative voice of the great Musa resounded across the cabin, his guards at his back held stoic faces, and not a single emotion could be seen on their faces.
It’s said when a human undergoes pain every single day, and when they are trained to be a monster, blood and tears don’t hold any value, they kill and stride to the next.
How bizarre is this, the world carries so many evils, crimes and torments on its shoulders, yet it’s trained to survive anyhow.
“Musa?”, The familiar voice of Altamash reached Musa’s ears, making him shift his eyes at him, his tensed posture clearly indicated how apprehensive he was, he knew all too well Musa Hassan Khan was unforgiving.
“Plea- please let me go!” the man implored, appealing to let him go, his eyes held tears, and his hands shuddered with utmost anxiety, just at the mere mention of Musa Hassan Khan can make anyone fall on their knees, whilst the man Ahmed wriggled his tied hands, which made it worse as the rope tightened and bruised his hands with blood.
“You were born to be killed by my hands Ahmed, the day you thought about deceiving me, you invited your own death.” Musa took a step Forward, every word he uttered screamed power, the Man shuddered, his lips trembled, and his cheeks cascaded down with tears without his approval, his heart almost ceased to beat.
Musa’s hands went onto his pants, his one hand messed around his hair, the smell of alcohol wreaked from him, his eyes red with no compassion left, whilst he kneelt a bit, getting dangerously close to the Man who has almost left with no hope to survive.
“I am a reflection of death, I kill cheaters and criminals like you!” He whispered with animosity, his every word was garnished with hatred and revenge. The words appearing from Musa’s lips seemed way more hazardous and frightening so much so that the man collapsed just by his mere words.
“I want him dead in the morning!” demands Musa, glared at Altamash as if to warn him to not go against his words, whilst Altamash nodded in fear and commanded their gang to do as he said.
Musa moved out, taking long strides, his shoulders held high, the blazer relaxing on his shoulder, his hair messed up, his jawline stiff.
“When your story ends, your heart would be rinsed with realization about you being the villain of your own story Mr. Musa Hassan Khan!”
The words of his dadi still echoed in his ears like a mantra, his eyes shut while he kicked the stuff that came in his way in resentment.
“Yes, dadi I am ready to be the ruthless villain just to demolish that woman!” the words were drawn from his mouth, the malice his mind poured on him, and he acknowledged everything it said.
He was a storm, and only his wife Fayra could soothe him down, but both have no idea that fate certainly had plans to bring them together, but would they both unravel their tangled love?
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