|Please koyi meri bhi shadi karwa do! Yeh romance likh kar thak gaayi expirience bhi karna chahti hun...|
Murtasim shifts his gaze from me to his mother. They were red-rimmed and clearly filled with rage. I could see that he had not expected this at all. "Kya keh rahi hain aap, Maa. Hamare beech aisi koyi baat nahin huyi."
Maa Begum sits up. She wears her slippers, and gives Murtasim a pointed look. Like if I did not listen to her, she would dare to beat the shit out of him with her slipper. Graceful, yes, but still a mother after all. "Haan, laikin ab yeh baat ho rahi hai. Aur tumhe suni paregi."
He lets out a scoof. His disappointed eyes landed on me. "Koyi aur nahin mila is ke liye." It was more of a statement than a question. I was kind of insulted by the way he looked at me, but I knew that he is not at fault in this. He had not known that his mother had made plans for him, and neither had I. We were both not at fault.
"Maine dhundha hi nahin. Ghar mein dulha ho toh kahin aur kyun dekha jaaye." She stands up and pulls my arm harshly. I don't let her. I snatch my arm away from her grip. "Mujhe hat mat lagana. Warna tod dungi." Through my gritted teeth, those words fall out harshly. I'm not used to disrespecting my elders. But what can I do? At this point she is plotting to ruin my life.
Murtasim looks at his mothers hand on my arm with fury. "Maa usse chodein." He says calmly and watches me with narrowed eyes. "Tum chalo mere sath, baat karni hai tum se."
"Kaisi baat!" I question him. Yeh log samajhte kya hain khud ko. Jalad kahin ke. Murtasim only furrows his brows in return.
"Sharafat se chalogi yaa koyi aur tareeqa aazmaun?" What if they sell me? The fear still lingered deep within me. I was afraid of them, no question. I had not shown an ounce of it, but I was terrified. And this marriage terrified me more.
"Chalungi bawle itne utawle kyun ho rahe ho. Koyi izzat nahin milti kya!" I shouted. It was first after the words were out that I realized what I just said. Allah Miyan, I called him stupid! If possible, Maa Begum's eyes widened more. It looked like her eyes would fall out of their sockets any minute.
Closing my eyes out of embarrassment, I tried to steady my heart. It was beating awkwardly. I had no wish to face the man I just called stupid, but I had no wish to show my extreme embarrassment either. So I opened my eyes, and looked straight into his. But he had the opposite reaction to what I had expected. His lips were formed into a smirk, and his charcoal eyes shone in amusement. He turned on his heels, not before reminding me, "We need to discuss something important. I'm waiting outside by the car, meet me in a few."
I glared at him. Indirectly making him understand that I'm not one of those to fall down to his feet. I'm not the one to bow. I'm not a weak woman, no, I'm strong. I have passed all the hurdles thrown at my face by life, and until now, nothing has been able to break me.
I will under no circumstances allow a man to be my weakness. I'll be theirs, they will never be mine.
His mother stands beside me, trying to see through me. Makes sense, because according to her stupid beliefs, I'll soon be her daughter in law. But I know for a fact, that if I ever married her son, I would never let her rule over me or try to groom me.
My mood is suddenly sour, and I excuse myself from her room. For a moment I decide to just go to sleep, but then I remember that I don't know which room is mine, so I go ahead to face the brooding man.
As promised, he stands in the parking lot. His back is facing me, and I see his right hand tightly holding a phone. He was talking, no, rather shouting at someone. I watch him from afar. Right now, I would rather drink poison than face him, because he spit fire like a dragon.
"Ask me how many fucks I give!" I hear him shout to the other person. He holds up his fingers and closes all of them in a fist. "None. Either you hand over that property peacefully, or things are going to get very ugly Malik Zubair!" Oh fuck.
Guess I'll have to deal with a self-centered, demanding and thereathing man the next few days, and if I happen to marry him then please attend my funeral. A death by him can't possibly be peaceful, and I need tons of prayers already.
The call ends. I see Murtasim leaning on the car. His fingers are busy messaging the bridge of his nose, while he stands there with one arm folded in front of the other. His feet crossed. He looked hot. For a brief moment I see him as a man. A very beautiful and attractive man.
But then his eyes collide with mine, and I'm lost in their depth. Guess marrying him doesn't sound that horrible after all.
Kya guys. Mere hisse ka pyaar kahan gaaya? Please support this book guys, if you will, I'll write better. Because of the support, I would get the will to write;)
Otherwise luv u ma belle's
