Mafia Redemption ( series three)

Lit up their world

If you haven't prayed your salah please pray this book can wait but your salah can't

Happy reading….

Inaya p.o.v

" Where the hell do you think you are going?" I squeezed my eyes shut .

Turning around with a nervous smile I greeted with a nod '' please don't tell mom " I beg folding hands .

" Aslam, " he shouted at our driver .

" Yes sir " in a 5g speed he came .

" Drop ma'am where ever she want to go " he ordered and I looked at him confused .

" You- you are not going to ask me where I am going or why ?" I was surprised but then again we hardly interacted .

" We both know you are not my daughter and I am not your dad , so let's not pretend . I don't care where are you going just inform your mother after you reach  " he spoke nonchalantly " there will peace for sometime "

My fist automatically curled up " thank you so much for your gentlemen's behaviour " I smiled sarcastically.

" You are right , you are not my dad and you shouldn't pretend to be one " I control the tears threatening to come out .

He walked away without turning and so did I .

As I stepped out of the car, a rush of emotions flooded over me. It had been years since I last set foot into this place—the old house where I had spent countless days of my half childhood. I stood there, frozen in time, admiring the charming structure that had held so many memories.

The house stood tall, its weathered facade telling tales of a rich history. The once vibrant paint had faded, giving way to patches of exposed brick and peeling window sills.

As I approached my grandmother's house, anticipation filled my heart. It had been years since I last saw her, and I couldn't wait to embrace her in a warm hug. But just as I was about to reach the front door, my eyes were drawn to a captivating sight.

Across the street, a mysterious figure caught my attention. His back was facing me, so I couldn't see his face, but there was something undeniably appealing about him. Dark, tousled hair peaked out from beneath a worn-out cap, and the muscles visible through his shirt hinted at strength and resilience.

Curiosity gripped me as I watched him effortlessly carry heavy wooden planks on his broad shoulders. The way he manoeuvred with ease, as if the weight were almost insignificant, fascinated me. I wondered what his story was, what kind of life he led that required such skill and strength.

My mind filled with questions,  As much as the allure of this unknown man intrigued me, my priorities lay elsewhere. I tear myself away from the captivating scene, urging my feet to continue towards the familiar door I longed to knock on.

But as I closed in on Grandma's doorstep, a sliver of curiosity still remained. I couldn't help but sneak one last glance behind me, my eyes yearning for a glimpse of the enigmatic man's face. However, he had already disappeared into the depths of his own home, leaving me with an irrefutable sense of wonder.

With a sigh, I brushed aside my distraction and focused my attention on the task at hand.

Third person p.o.v

INT. SMALL HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

The living room is dimly lit, with a worn-out couch and a coffee table strewn with newspapers and empty coffee mugs. Framed photographs on the wall depict the life of a once powerful Mafia. Haider (late 30s, rugged and weathered, now turned ordinary man, sits on the couch with a melancholic expression on his face. The sound of rain splattering against the window creates a sombre atmosphere.

Haider's gaze shifts to a bracelet which reminds him of his former love, Aamal who is now married to someone else. His heart aches as he reminisces about their past.

Haider teary-eyed, whispering " I miss you." He spoke, picking up the only reminder of Aamal .

EXT. SMALL HOUSE - BACKYARD - DAY

The rain continues to pour as Haider steps onto the porch. He looks out into the vast emptiness, contemplating the choices he made in his life. The solitude and loneliness engulf him like a heavy cloak.

INT. SMALL HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Haider prepares a simple meal for himself. The aroma of food fills the air, but the taste seems bland to his longing heart. He glances at the empty chair across the table, imagining Aamal sitting there, her radiant smile lighting up the room.

If only I were worthy of you, my love. If only I had the chance to make things right...

INT. SMALL HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT

Vincent lies on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as raindrops tap against the windowpane. The distant sound of laughter and conversations drifts in from the neighbourhood. His mind wanders to Aamal, imagining her in the arms of another.

The laughter echoed a little too loudly and his mind unintentionally wandered to Maryam's window , he couldn't see properly but a young girl hugging Maryam and laughing with her . To his surprise Maryam had a visitor . It's been a year , he didn't see anyone come to her house but it seems someone came to light up her world once again .

Only if he knew maybe it's time to light up his world too .

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First of all thank you to those who commented in previous chapter and appreciated my work . Because of you guys it force me to write  sooner .

It's You guys motivate me  to write everyday .

Thank you so much
Hope you like the chapter ...