Madiha Shah, a young woman from a middle-class family, finds her life unexpectedly entangled with the illustrious Zafar Shah Abraar, a prominent business magnate in India and the elder brother of her betrothed, Zahid.
As fate would have it, unforese...
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Zafar finished the last meeting for the day at 6:30.
"Sir, the Spectrum tender.." Rudra started.
But Zafar cut him off. "Not today." He picked up his suit blazer and hung it on his arm. Pocketing his phone, he walked out of his office, Rudra hot on his heels.
They took the lift to the ground floor. On the way, Rudra called Zafar's driver to keep the car ready at the porch. The driver had the car door open for Zafar.
"Rudra," Zafar called out to his assistant who was in the passenger seat once the car had hit the road, "any new update on Zahid?"
Rudra looked over his shoulder. "No, sir. He is still in London."
After Zahid fled, Zafar instructed his private investigation team to locate him. Even before Zahid's plane touched down in London, Zafar was already aware of his whereabouts. He was staying there with a friend. He was also meeting Alice everyday. Despite having the capability to forcibly bring Zahid back home whenever he pleased, Zafar chose not to do so. He believed that coercing Zahid would not resolve the underlying issue caused by his drastic escape. Zafar wanted Zahid to comprehend the gravity of his actions and make his own decision regarding his future.
And a selfish part of Zafar also wanted Zahid to stay away because he was not sure if Madiha still had feelings for him. The mere thought of Madiha forgiving Zahid and choosing to go back to him was enough to freeze him through the bones.
The car drove inside the ground of the palace, cutting Zafar's thoughts short.
When he walked inside, Ziya was the first one he came across. Amusement flowed on the young girl's face as she checked the time. "Zafar Bhai home before 9, what a surprise!"
He ignored her teasing. "Where is Maa Saheb?"
"Maa is in her room, and.. someone else is in the kitchen cooking your favorite dishes for dinner." She finished with a smirk.
He frowned at that. Why was she cooking? They had enough servants and cooks to handle the chores.
"We told her that she doesn't have to cook." Ziya answered his unasked question. "But she insisted."
Zafar nodded and began walking towards the staircase. But when Ziya got distracted, he pivoted to the kitchen. And there Madiha was. Her hair gathered in a messy bun, a white apron on top of her red suit.
Her back was facing towards him, so she remained unaware of his presence. He gestured to the servants to leave, and they obliged immediately. Then, with quiet steps, he reached her and snaked both his arms around her petite waist.
In the midst of adding salt to the gravy, Madiha suddenly felt herself being enveloped and instinctively recoiled. The salt spilled over the stove in the process. Zafar pressed his face against her neck, eliciting a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. This assured her that it was her husband, for only he had the power to evoke such a reaction from her with a single touch.
