The doctor held his gaze for a moment, then answered as carefully as he could. "We’re hopeful she will, but we can't make promises in these situations. The next couple of days are critical."

Nodding numbly, Sarfaraaz stared at the floor.

"You can see her, but only for a few minutes," the doctor added softly. "She’s stable for now, but she’ll need rest."

Sarfaraaz  didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed past the doctor, his legs carrying him down the hallway to the room where she lay. The steady beeping of machines filled the silence as he entered, the sterile scent of antiseptics sharp in the air.

She looked fragile, almost too still, her chest rising and falling with the help of the ventilator. His breath caught as he moved closer, guilt clawing at him.

He had once wanted to control her, to make her submit to his world. But now, as he looked at her pale face, body has bandages and oxygen tubes, he felt something which he should not feel for his enemy.

He paced the hallway, his heart a heavy stone in his chest, his mind a battlefield. He shouldn’t care. She was nothing more than his enemy’s daughter–a symbol of everything he despised.

Letting her burn would have been justice, retribution for years of suffering at her family’s hands.

But seeing her on that stretcher, smoke filling her lungs, her unconscious body limp and lifeless–it hadn’t felt like victory. It felt like...failure.

He wanted her to suffer for her family’s sins and wanted to see her father’s empire crumble. But there she was, fragile and defenseless, and it was his hand that had kept her alive. The very hands that were meant to take everything from her.

But somehow, despite everything, the image of her lying on that bed, hooked up to machines, made him feel something more dangerous than guilt. It was weakness–something he hadn’t felt in years.

Why her? Why now? He should be rejoicing in her suffering, not questioning his decisions.

His phone rang abruptly and broke his thought.

It was from Rahat.

"Say" he replied averting his eyes from her cabin.

"We found one of our men's dead bodies in the forest near the secret house. He was shot to death" Rahat told which made me clench my fist.

He started saying it again after a pause, "We suspected that it was him who started  the fire because it was him who came from the direction where the fire caught first.  
We also got scissors and matches in his pocket."

"kibaszott áruló" he muttered.
( Fucking Traitor)

"Keep investigating. Look for whether it was done by that bastard Javier or not" he said in a steeled voice.

After seating for a few hours he returned home as his nephew is alone at home.

________________

I headed home, my mind clouded with remorse and confusion. I had never felt this torn before–this uncertain.

After feeding Muneeb, I took him to bed, his innocent smile a stark contrast to the storm inside me.

"Mamu? Did someone scold you?" Muneeb asked, his small voice pulling me from my thoughts.

I chuckled, masking the heaviness in my chest. "Who would dare, my prince?"

But even as I said the words, her face flashed in front of my eyes, cursing me "Maniac, psycho, jerk, monster."

I shook my head, trying to push her image away, to forget the sting of her words.

"You look sad," Muneeb said softly, his tiny hand reaching up to touch my face.

"No, my child, see? I’m smiling." I forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach my eyes. "Sleep now."

"Okay." The boy pressed a kiss to my cheek before settling into his pillow.The cat climbed up onto the bed, curling itself between us.

I reached out to caress it, and at first, it scratched me, but soon it relaxed. I stroked its fur absentmindedly, my voice barely a whisper as I murmured, "Pray for your momma to wake up."

_____________________

"You useless fools! You failed me.. again!" The steel-cold voice cut through the room like a knife.

"How did he escape the fire? You were supposed to ensure he wouldn’t wake."

A tense silence followed, thick with fear, until a shaky voice dared to respond. "S-sorry, Sir. He… he may not have eaten it."

The leader's voice dropped, dangerously calm. "May not? You don't even know for sure?"

Before the trembling man could respond, BANG!

A gunshot rang through the room, silencing everything but the ringing in their ears.Another shot fired, the deafening crack cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Failure is unacceptable," the cold voice growled, the echo of gunfire lingering in the air. "There will be no next time."

____________________

Two days later

It had been two days since the fire, two days since she had slipped into the coma. Every hour that passed felt like an eternity, the weight of his decision bearing down on him like an iron cage.

He hated her–at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. But seeing her lying there, fragile and hooked to machines, had twisted something inside him he couldn't explain.

Why did she have to survive? Why hadn’t he just left her?

And yet, there he was, waiting.

Her fingers twitched.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to snap him from his thoughts. He leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat, eyes narrowing as he watched her face.

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered, struggling against the heaviness that had kept her locked in darkness for days. Her brow furrowed, lips parting as she took in a shallow breath, her body instinctively trying to fight the lingering effects of the sedatives.

His heart pounded in his chest. She’s waking up.

Her eyes finally opened, unfocused and hazy, blinking against the harsh hospital lights. It took her a moment to register where she was, the sterile smell of the room, the sound of the machines surrounding her.

She turned her head slightly, eyes locking onto him. Confusion flashed in her gaze, followed by something darker–recognition."You…" Her voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible, but laced with shock and… fear.

He swallowed hard, his expression unreadable. He should have been prepared for this, should have reveled in the power he held over her.

"You’re alive," he said, his voice low, betraying nothing.

Her eyes flickered with fear, then anger, her body weak but her spirit clearly still intact. "Why... why am I here? With you.." she rasped, her voice shaky but defiant.

He clenched his jaw. "You're alive because I chose for you to be. That's all you need to know."

Her brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief, her gaze never leaving his.
Finally, she closed her eyes again, her exhaustion taking over, but not before muttering, "Why did you save me you Monster?"

"I would rather have died," she spat, her weak voice trembling with emotion, "than being saved by you."

Her words hit him like a physical blow, sharper than any weapon.He should have felt satisfied hearing her hate him.But instead, he felt… hollow.

"You don’t get to choose," he said quietly, his voice as cold as steel. "Not in this."

Her eyes burned with fury. "You took that choice from me. I would rather burn than owe my life to a man like you."

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He stared at her, at the defiance in her eyes, and for the first time, he wondered if saving her had been the mistake.
.
.
.
In the afternoon she was taken in another hideout of him. He can't stay in the hospital for that long because of his unknown  enemy  who is aiming at his life. They can harm innocent people of the hospital along with him.

He prepared a room equipped with all necessary medical facilities needed for her.
.
.
.
.
The room felt smaller, tighter, suffocating with the tension that simmered between them. She lay in the bed, refusing to touch the tray of pills on the bedside table, her eyes blazing with defiance.

He stood by the window, his jaw clenched, fists at his sides. "Take your medicine" he commanded, his voice low, dangerous

She smirked, though it was weak, her lips cracked from dehydration. "Why? So you can feel better about yourself, monster? You kidnapped me, forcefully married me, made me a liar to my family and the whole country. Now you just want me to keep me alive for torturing me, ha?"

His eyes narrowed. She was pushing him again. She knew how to dig into his skin, twist the blade. He took a step forward  the tension thickening with each inch of space he closed between. them.

"You think this is about me?" he said, his voice is sharp as steel. "I saved you. Now you're going to live with that."

"I don't want to live," she spat, glaring at him. "Not if it means owing you anything. I'd rather choke on my own blood."

The fire in her eyes ignited something deep within him, something dark and twisted, something he'd tried to bury under layers of control.

He had half a mind to let her suffer, to let her taste the consequences of defying him. But then he reached into his pocket, pulling out the handcuffs, the cold metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

Before she could react, he grabbed her wrists and snapped one cuff around it following the other, chaining her to the bed rail.

Her eyes widened with shock and fury. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"You're going to take the medicine," he said, his voice thick with frustration, "or I'll make sure you can't do anything else."

"You can't make me do anything," she hissed, yanking her wrist against the cuffs. "I'd rather die than play this sick game with you."

He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers, their breaths mingling, the air between them crackling with heat and anger. "You perhaps forget our last medicine taking session. Do you want me to repeat it?" His voice was a low breathy tone, his words dripping with dark amusement.

"I own you now. You don't take the pills, I'll force them down your throat. Either way, you're mine to keep alive."

Her chest rose and fell with quick, angry breaths remembering how he forced her to take meds that day. "Go to hell."

He chuckled darkly, eyes flashing with something primal. "We're already there, sweetheart."

She was shaking in anger but didn’t argue after that. "Give me the meds" she said not looking at him.

He helped her take the medicine instead of uncuffing her.

"You hate me so much," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "Then why keep me alive? Why go to all this trouble, chaining me to a bed, forcing me to swallow pills? What kind of sick satisfaction are you getting out of this?".

He was silent for a moment, the war raging inside him-hatred, desire, the cold hunger for revenge and something else he could not name it yet.

"I should hate you to death. But you are alive now so I have to make sure you are strong enough to take my hatred" he said in a glacial tone.

"Get out of my head," he muttered immediately under his breath, taking a step back.

She blinked, confused by the shift in his demeanor, her lips parting as if she was going to say something. But he didn’t give her the chance.

Abruptly, he turned on his heel, his movements sharp and deliberate. He stormed toward the door, his body tense, his fists clenched at his sides.

Without a word, he wrenched the door open and stepped out, slamming it behind him with more force than necessary.

______________________

What the hell is happening to me?

I left the room when my heart betrayed me.

"I want to hate you." my gaze traveled from her face down to her trembling lips, then lower. "But there's a problem... You're far too interesting to let go."

Damn.

This was what I felt before leaving the room.

I pulled my hair in frustration. This revenge  game is getting out of hand.

The thought of her trembling lips, the heat in her eyes, the way she had defied me even in her weakest moments...it was driving me to madness.

I curled my fingers into a fist, slamming against the wall. I  couldn’t lose control. I  couldn’t let this… obsession with her derail everything I  had worked for.

I can't let the blood of Hussein win over me. Even if I had to let her go. I  will.

________________________________

I can't even be grateful to my saviour. What an irony!

My body was still weak, every movement a reminder of what I’d been through. But it wasn’t just the physical pain that weighed on me–it was the knowledge of who had saved me.

The person wrecked my life to the point that I have nothing to cling  to. The man who had stolen my freedom, my hope. He was the reason I had wanted to give up, the reason I had stared into the fire, thinking it might be better to just let go.

And now? Now I was alive because of him. It felt like a sick joke. I should have died in that fire. Maybe I would’ve found peace there.

How could I ever be grateful? To him..the man who had taken me from my life, kidnapped me, and forced me into a marriage that felt more like a prison sentence than a vow.

But now I'm handcuffed in this bed because I refused to take medicines. What's the point of taking them and the willingness of  living  has been diminishing slowly.

The way he lastly talked made me puzzled.  I could not read the look on his dark brown eyes. But I already understood whatever it was – it  would never be good for me.

My whole body shivered at this thought.

______________________

Next day

Sarfaraaz could not get to sleep properly for the consecutive four nights which started from the day the fire incident occurred.

Although he never had a sound sleep in his life. Nightmares are the regular companions of him.

But this time along with the nightmares the senseless,  fragile version of her added. He was fighting with an internal turmoil of his thirst for revenge and an ominous pull towards her.

He can't let anything stand in the way of his revenge.  He wants to bring Hussein in such a state that led him to end his life by himself and he will make sure of it.

So he decided to free her.

He entered the room to find her gazing out the window, as if seeing sunlight for the first time in ages.

He strode towards her and uncuffed her.

"I wanted to tarnish the reputation of Major Shafiq. I got what I wanted. You may go wherever you want" he said in an indifferent tone.

His words seemed unbelievable to her. He is setting her free just like this!

After ripping her peaceful life by pieces he said it so easily.

She also thought how she would face her family,  her father who had fought with death only for her.

She anger was fueled, "Do you they will accept me after everything you have done? Why do you destroy my life? What was my fault?"

He got closer to her and grabbed her chin coldly, "Your fault is that you are the daughter of Major Hussein. I hate your entire bloodline,  I hate your existence and everything"

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Id: author_safiyah2617