Bint of Gilgit ~ Pakistani Love Story ~ ONGOING ~

Forbidden Valley

Asadullah glared past the valley and at the small tribal folk that mulled around in their pathetic, simple lives. Hailing from Islamabad and Lahore, he had been awed by the beauty and resources of Gilgit-Baltistan, but all it took was for some villagers to sully his mood.

Beside him, his trusted companion from childhood snorted. "These people are still living like that? Even when the world has moved to the Moon and Mars?"

Asadullah was a man of fewer words and more action. His position as the son of the Black Panther Mafias had burdened him with a heavy responsibility from a young age and he often found that speaking wasted a lot of precious time. Still, he was inclined to share his opinion. "How does Baba expect these people to be swayed by money?"

Fahad chuckled, a hint of his chivalrous personality emerging. "Maybe we should have brought cows, sheep, and horses instead, eh?"

"Disgusting." He muttered, a repulsed turn of his lips indicating just how much he despised the small folk. "If they won't listen, then pull out a pistol. Shoot a few if you have to."

A chiseled face who had been scouting the location with binoculars looked up with surprise. "Asad, bro, you're not coming?"

"Obviously not. I can smell the stench of their cattle from a mile away."

Fahad laughed with glee. "Oh, man! Asad, you should come. No one here has a domineering personality such as yourself. They will be more likely to listen to you."

Asadullah merely pulled out his expensive smartphone. Damn, no fucking signal in this place. If Fahad had any idea of the burning frustration in his heart, he would have not made this suggestion. Should Asadullah was to join them in this futile endeavor, a massacre would surely take place. And he had enough blood on his hands to last a lifetime.

Imad shook his head as if he had read his cousin's mind. "You and I are more than capable of handling this, Fez." But the truth was he was not looking forward to this meeting himself. These people had no idea that a storm was coming their way - everything was about to change for them. And despite being a member of the Black Panther Mafia, Imad was a secret pacifist - although more often than not, he had taken lives simply because he was expected to. He really did not want to take any more lives today.

His brother, Fahad on the other hand, could not look more ecstatic. His Spencer Carbine rifle was gleaming in the small rays of sunlight as he pointed it in the direction of the tribe. "Pew pew pew!" He cackled, making an action of a soldier shooting down enemies. Of course. His twin was one sadistic bastard - even Asadullah found his bloodlust troublesome at times.

"Well, since you both have it covered, I am going to take a walk around the valley." His jet black hair swayed with the gentle breeze and for just a few moments, Asadullah felt quietude in his stormy heart. The city certainly had a knack for taking one's peace away and in their lucrative and forever active business, it had taken a toll on him. So when his father had come to him with a new business idea, Asadullah had jumped on the bandwagon.

Now, however, as he began a walk into the woods and the silence that came with it, Asadullah was not keen to face the thoughts that he had pushed to the back of his mind. In the last month, he had faced loss and betrayal. The loss of his beloved mother - the only woman who elicited mercy from his callous stone of a heart. And betrayal - his father - the man who had been his role model had been leading a secret affair behind his mother's back.

And Asadullah knew that his mother had died with a broken heart. Confrontation should have occurred between his father and him, but he had remained quiet. His father was a ruthless man - he had killed one child before and no doubt, he would do the same again if it meant to ensure stability and his position.

Asadullah had little choice as of now. He was the next heir to the business - the strongest of his four brothers, although not the eldest. Still, he did not face much competition from his own siblings, but his father's other offsprings were a different matter. They had set their eyes upon the business - doing all they could to swing the ball in their favor. Assassination attempts on his life had become a common occurrence - Asadullah barely found himself surprised when he would spot a hitman in his vicinity.

And yet he had endured all of it and emerged strong. The Black Panther Mafias would not belong to anyone, but him. And if he had to kill an entire town of innocent villagers to prove his worth to his father, then so be it.

Author's Note: Hello! This is a story set in modern-day Pakistan - specifically Gilgit-Baltistan. I hope to write further if anyone is interested :)