Once they reached his place, it was already 9 p.m. Sarfaraaz had intended to take Tania to her room and wake her up, but just as they were about to get out of the car, his phone rang.

It was the nanny, calling about Muneeb.

"Muneeb's been crying for a while. He's missing his parents all of a sudden," the nanny's voice was laced with concern.

His heart twisted at the words. Muneeb was suffering, just like he and his sister had in their childhood. But Sarfaraaz couldn't let that happen...not to the boy. The trauma, the nightmares... they still haunted him. He wouldn't let Mubeen bear the same weight.

Helplessness and frustration coiled in his chest. Raising the child had always made him feel unworthy, a task he couldn't fulfill no matter how hard he tried.

Taking a deep breath, he signaled to the two women helpers in the house to take Tania to the room.

As they approached, their expressions turned to shock."Who would dare shoot the boss?" someone whispered.

Sarfaraaz narrowed his eyes. "Don't just stand there. I'll be back in an hour." Without waiting for a response, he hopped into the car again, already dreading the next step.

_______________________

The news spread like wildfire. Within moments, everyone in the house knew exactly who had shot their boss, and rage simmered through the loyal followers of Sarfaraaz.

Whispers of vengeance filled the air, their anger sharp and palpable. It was unthinkable to them that someone-let alone her-would dare to raise a hand against him. To them, she had crossed an unforgivable line.

Without thinking about the consequence they tied her in a chair in that unconscious state. They thought their boss would be happy about this. They made his work easier.

____________________

Sarfaraaz walked into the surveillance room after a long, agonizing day. His body ached, the bandages around his wounds tight and fresh, but it wasn't the pain that gnawed at him. It was the image on the screen.

The footage showed Tania, tied back to the chair. His coat still draped over her, her head slumped forward as if she was either unconscious or asleep.

A surge of anger pulsed through him as he clenched his fists. His teeth ground together, eyes narrowing.

"Who the fuck tied her back up?" His voice was a low, menacing growl.

"Sir, she shot you, so... we thought it would be... better to..." one of his men began to speak, but he faltered under Sarfaraaz's dangerously intense gaze.

"I didn't order this!" Sarfaraaz's voice was dripping with anger.

"Who directed this?" he demanded.

A man stepped forward, trembling. "It was me, boss."

The room was filled with the sharp crack of a gunshot. The man cried out in pain, clutching his wounded arm.

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you in the head. This is for overstepping your boundaries. She is my personal matter... Understood? None of your fucking business" Sarfaraaz's voice was icy with fury.

"Do not make the same mistake again," he warned coldly, then stormed into the room where Tania was being held.

___________________________

His chest tightened as he saw her up close again. Her face, pale and motionless, looked so fragile-nothing like the defiant fire she had shown him earlier.

He reached for the ropes binding her, his fingers trembling slightly. She was a complication-a mystery. Someone he should hate, yet here he was, unbinding her as if it was the only thing that made sense.

As he took her face in his hands, she frowned and shivered at his unexpected touch.

He sighed in relief. She was asleep.

Gently, he lifted her and carried her to the bed. Removing his coat, he noticed the torn fabric of her dress and the light bruises from nails-nights that twisted his insides with guilt.

He never wanted this to happen, not even in his wildest dreams, despite his hatred for her bloodline.

"I should have given a slow, painful death to those bastards who touched her like this," he growled, his fury barely contained.

The sight of her torn clothes disturbed him. After a moment of inner conflict, he decided to change her clothes. Holding her gently against his chest, he carefully unfastened the chain of her top. Without looking at her, he discarded the torn garments.

Even though he was ruthless, he couldn't bring himself to invade her space in her weakest state. Not when she was unconscious.

He dressed her in one of his T-shirts and carefully laid her back on the bed.

Just when he was about to get off the bed, she let out a soft whimper and clutched the edge of his shirt.

Her whimper turned into a scream, "No... no... Don't... Don't do this!"

Hesitantly, he pulled her into a tender embrace and caressed her back.

"No one is coming. Sleep," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn't even understand why he was doing this, but he couldn't ignore the aching need to protect her, even in her most vulnerable state.

Yes, that night, Sarfaraaz set aside his thirst for vengeance and allowed himself to become her protector, providing her with a temporary sanctuary from the chaos and pain. In that moment, his own turmoil and guilt overshadowed his anger.

__________________________

When I woke up, I felt trapped in a firm hold, and my heartbeat quickened in fear.

I opened my eyes to find myself in his arms.

My destroyer!

Why am I with him?

The memories of the previous day came flooding back, each one more painful than the last. Tears welled up, a mixture of hurt, disgust, and anguish.

Then I remembered-I shot him! Panic surged through me as I noticed my top was missing, replaced by an oversized t-shirt. The scent clinging to it was unmistakably his.

Did he...? Oh Allah, no! Please, don't let my worst fears be true!

I tried to slip out of his grasp, but as I moved, my hand brushed against his wound. He groaned in pain, and his eyes flickered open. He quickly released me, sitting up with a wince.

"What did you do to me last night?" I asked, my voice trembling with fear.

A smirk tugged at his lips, sending a chill down my spine."Can't you feel it? You must know if I did something or not, right?"

The cold, taunting edge to his voice terrified me, making my skin crawl.

"The top looked disgusting, so... I changed it," he replied, his tone flat but unapologetic.

My heart pounded in my chest as he continued, "And for the record, it was you who clung to me last night. Not the other way around."

His words struck like a whip, leaving me feeling both humiliated and confused. I searched his face for any sign of deceit, but his gaze remained cold, indifferent, as if none of this mattered to him at all.

"Leave the place after breakfast," he commanded, his voice sharp, offering no room for argument.

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. "Why did you save me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I didn't understand.

His gaze flickered for a moment, something unreadable passing through his eyes. He leaned in slightly, his voice dangerously low. "Maybe I didn't save you. Maybe I just didn't want anyone else to have the satisfaction of breaking you."

I froze, confusion swirling through me. What did that even mean?

"Will you continue to manipulate the shares of my father's company?" I asked, gathering what little courage I had left, still foolishly hoping for a no. How naive could I be?

He looked at me for a moment, his lips curling into a smile that sent chills down my spine. "I'll only stop when he loses everything, and there's nothing he can do about it," he said calmly, as if discussing the weather.

My heart sank. I should have known better. There was no room for hope with a man like him-no mercy in those cold eyes.

______________________

"Stop destroying my father's company, Sarfaraaz. You've already done enough annihilation," Tania pleaded, her voice trembling with desperation.

He paused, his dark brown eyes narrowing dangerously, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So, what are you offering in exchange for that?" His voice was low, cutting like a blade.

"Myself," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but her blank stare held firm. "My freedom."

It was her last resort.

Sarfaraaz's gaze darkened, a storm brewing behind those eyes, as if her words had triggered something deep inside him. He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his presence suffocating.

"Are you sure about this, Hazel?" His voice dropped to a menacing whisper, each word drenched with a dark promise. "Can you bear the weight of those words?"

He loomed closer, the space between them charged with dangerous tension, daring her to back down.

Tania knew exactly what she was saying. But desperation drove her to this point.

If she couldn't escape through death, then sacrificing herself for her father, for her family, was the only option left. The best she could offer.

"Yeah, I know." Her voice hardened, masking her fear. "You married me, didn't you? Take me to your home. Let's see how long you can tolerate me," she challenged, her eyes locked on his.

A smirk curled his lips, and his dark eyes gleamed with something sinister that sent a shiver down her spine.

"If you're asking for a life of torment, Tania, I'll gladly give it to you," he said, his voice dripping with cold menace. He stepped closer, grabbing her chin with an iron grip. "Be ready to be an unwanted and ignored bride, Tania Shafiq Hussein."

Tania smiled sadly, her gaze unyielding despite the weight of his words. "Better to be destroyed by you than humiliated by the whole world," she whispered, the pain evident but her defiance still burning.

"Okay, I'm letting him go for the time being." Sarfaraaz murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. "Now seal the deal."

Tania's eyes darted around, confusion clouding her face. "Where?" Her voice trembled as she scanned the room, expecting some contract, some papers-anything that would formalize her surrender.

But there was nothing.

Sarfaraaz's gaze darkened as he leaned in, his lips curving into a smirk that made her pulse race. "This kind of deal isn't sealed with ink." His breath was hot against her skin. "It requires something more... personal."

Her heart stuttered as she stared up

at him, her mind struggling to process his meaning.

"Kiss me."

The words hung in the air like a command, thick with expectation. Tania took an instinctive step back, but his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist, pulling her close. His body was warm, solid, and unyielding. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming, leaving her breathless.

"You said you'd sacrifice yourself," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper. "This is where it begins."

Her chest tightened, every instinct screaming at her to flee, but she was trapped-caught in the storm of his presence. Tania swallowed hard, her lips parting as she met his gaze, intense and penetrating.

His grip on her wrist loosened slightly, as though giving her the last chance to pull away. But she didn't.

She couldn't. The air between them was charged with something far stronger than fear.

She tiptoed and with trembling fingers, she reached up, touching his chest lightly before leaning in. Her lips hovered near his, the moment thick with tension.

Then, with a breathless pause, she kissed him.

At first, Sarfaraaz's mouth was firm, demanding, just as she expected. But then something shifted.

As her lips brushed his, the heat of their kiss softened him. His grip on her wrist eased further, his hand sliding to her waist, almost tentative. The raw dominance in his touch faded, replaced by a brief, flickering gentleness he hadn't planned for.

The kiss deepened, and for a fleeting moment, Sarfaraaz wasn't the man who sought to break her. His lips softened, moving with hers, as if savoring something unfamiliar, something he couldn't control. His hand cupped her cheek, the touch gentle, almost tender, as though he couldn't help himself.

Tania's heart raced as the kiss lingered longer than she'd anticipated. It was still heated, still intense, but there was a shift, a vulnerability she hadn't expected from him.

And then, just as quickly as it had softened, the moment passed.

Sarfaraaz pulled away, his dark eyes clouded with conflict. His thumb brushed her jawline, the warmth of his touch still there, but the hardness in his gaze returning.

"You've sealed your fate," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, though his hand lingered on her skin for just a moment longer. "Now, let's see how far you're willing to go."

______________________

Before they leave for his mansion. Rahat came with a tiny backpack in his hand.

"I found this on the scene. It must be her." he said giving it to Sarfaraaz.

Tania snatched the bag from him before Sarfaraaz could take a look inside.

"Don't touch it! It's mine" she glaring at him.

"Yeah. Keep it to yourself, woman" He replied glaring at her back.

.

.

.

The car ride was suffocatingly silent, the tension between them coiling tighter with every passing second. Tania sat in the passenger seat, her body pressed against the door, as if the mere distance could shield her from the storm brewing inside Sarfaraaz. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a deadly calm, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed straight ahead as they drove deeper into the night.

They finally arrived at his mansion, a sprawling, dark structure that loomed like a fortress, casting long shadows across the grounds. It was imposing, cold, and unwelcoming-much like the man beside her.

Sarfaraaz stepped out of the car first, his movements brisk, controlled. Tania hesitated, clutching her mini backpack tightly against her chest before following him out.

Once inside, Sarfaraaz didn't bother to glance back at her. He led her down a hallway that seemed to stretch on forever, the air heavy with the scent of dust and something old, forgotten.

He stopped in front of a door and pushed it open with a creak. The room was small, dimly lit by the hallway light, and covered in a fine layer of dust. It looked as though no one had set foot in it for years.

"You're staying here from now on," Sarfaraaz said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. He stepped into the room, his tall frame casting a shadow over the doorway as he glanced around with disinterest.

"You don't go upstairs unless I say so, and under no circumstances do you enter the west wing of the mansion."

Tania stood frozen at the threshold, her eyes scanning the room; the shabby, threadbare curtains, the old, creaking bed. It wasn't a prison, but it wasn't far from it either.

"You're going to clean this house. You'll cook starting tomorrow." His tone was a command, as if he were speaking to one of his employees rather than the woman he had just forced into his life.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her fingers tightening around the straps of her backpack.

"Fine," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. She was tired of fighting, tired of resisting-if this was what her life would become, so be it. At least her family would be safe.

Sarfaraaz's gaze lingered on her for a moment, as if searching for something-regret, fear, submission but Tania's face was blank.

"You can rest for now," he added, though the way he said it felt more like an order than an offer. "Tomorrow, your real life begins."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out of the room.

5 days later

Sarfaraaz thought he could break her by forcing her into the role of a servant. The daughter of a multimillionaire, now reduced to cleaning his massive mansion and cooking, all without complaint-it had surprised him. Where was the rebellion, the fire?

He was busy, managing his business both in the underworld and the company, so he hadn't had the time to observe her closely. But the more silent she became, the more it felt like defeat to him. Her silence wasn't submission, though. It felt wrong, like she was slipping away from his control.

Returning home from the office, he decided to push her further, to hurt her pride a little more.

"Go upstairs, to my room," he ordered after walking through the door. He usually spent his nights with Mubeen in the east wing, but tonight, he had a different plan.

Without a word, Tania followed, her steps steady, her face expressionless. No complaints, no signs of fear-at least not outwardly.

But inside, she was terrified.

Where was the fierce Tania who had stood up to him? What happened to that fire?

Once they reached his room, Sarfaraaz began discarding his clothes. Tania froze, her heart racing in her chest. Her gaze quickly dropped to the floor as she averted her eyes.

When he was down to just his pants, he stepped into the shower. For a moment, she exhaled in relief, thinking the worst was over.

But that relief was short-lived.

"Come here," his voice echoed through the room, commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

She swallowed hard and slowly walked toward the bathroom, her fear increasing with every step.

"Scrub my back," he said. His tone was firm, neither soft nor harsh, but the weight of the order made her hands tremble. She stood there for a moment, feeling the storm of conflicting emotions-fear, anger, but also something else she didn't want to acknowledge.

"Wait..." she finally spoke, her voice fragile, almost breaking. "The wound on your arm... has it healed? Don't let it get wet. It could... it could reopen."

Her words, cautious and soft, surprised even herself. She was the one who had caused the injury, yet here she was, asking about his well-being.

Sarfaraaz, standing under the shower's stream, barely glanced at her. "The bullet grazed me. It's nothing serious," he replied, his voice cold and indifferent, as though the pain didn't matter, as though nothing did.

Tentatively, she stepped closer, her hand trembling as it reached out, gently hovering over the place where she had shot him. The water ran over his skin, tracing the lines of muscle and scars she hadn't noticed before.

With shaky hands, she reached for the scrub. Despite her fear and confusion, she did as he asked, her hands moving slowly over the hard planes of his back. The water continued to pour down over him, washing away the tension, but not the emotions tangled between them.

Her eyes caught sight of the scars across his back, jagged and faded, but unmistakable. And then she remembered-those scars. She had seen them before.

Six months ago, when she had saved him after his accident, his face covered in blood, his life hanging by a thread. At that time, she hadn't recognized him; his face was hidden beneath the blood and the darkness of twilight. But now, the memory came rushing back.

It was him. The man she had saved was now her captor.

Her breath hitched in her throat as the realization sank in, her hand pausing mid-scrub.

Her cruel fate!

Her hand involuntarily grazed over the raised skin of his back. He stiffened under her touch, not in rejection but in a subtle recognition of intimacy.

Her touch wasn't just a submissive fulfilling an order-it was something more, a link neither of them had expected or wanted. The air between them grew heavy, charged with something unspoken.

"You don't remember me, do you?" The words escaped her lips in a soft, trembling voice before she could stop herself.

Sarfaraaz, caught off guard, turned his head slightly toward her. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, his brow furrowing as if trying to make sense of her words. "What are you talking about?" His voice was rough, but not unkind, the tension in his body now mingling with uncertainty.

Tania's heart hammered in her chest, her breath shallow as she forced herself to speak. "I saved you... six months ago. After the accident... I pulled you from the wreckage. I saved your life." Her voice broke, a tremor of anger, confusion, and heartbreak lacing her words. "And you... ruined mine."

For a moment, Sarfaraaz said nothing. His body remained still beneath the steady stream of the shower, the water mingling with the weight of her revelation. Her hands, once trembling with fear, now rested against his scarred skin, her touch no longer just an action but a reminder of the bond they shared.

His mind raced, fragments of a half-remembered memory flickering in and out of focus. The accident, the blood, the hazy image of kohl-lined eyes... Yeah those hazel eyes... and yet, the connection had never solidified until now.

He had no memory of her, no recollection of who had saved him that day. But standing here, with her hand on his back, something stirred deep inside him-a conflict, a sense of familiarity.

"You saved me?" His voice was quieter now, the cold detachment he usually carried replaced by something more vulnerable, more human. It wasn't disbelief that colored his words but a mixture of confusion and the painful irony of the situation.

Tania's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her hand still resting on the scars. The man she had saved was now the one responsible for destroying her life. The closeness of their bodies, the warmth of the water, the intimacy of the moment-it all felt like too much.

"I didn't know who you were," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. "I thought I was saving someone who deserved to live."

Her words hit Sarfaraaz like a punch to the gut. The woman standing behind him, the woman he had sought to break, had once been his savior. And now, as her soft hand lingered on the very scars that connected them, he felt a surge of something unfamiliar-regret, perhaps.

He turned fully to face her, droplets of water falling from his hair as his gaze locked onto hers. The tension between them had shifted.

Where there had once been only hatred, now there was something more-something complex and impossible to untangle in a single moment. His chest tightened, his own guilt mixing with the desire he had been battling since their first encounter.

"You saved me," he repeated, his voice almost a whisper, as though he still couldn't fully believe it. "But that doesn't change anything."

Tania flinched at his words, her heart constricting painfully. Of course, it didn't change anything. How could it? But the intimacy of the moment was undeniable.

His proximity, the heat radiating from his body, the water trailing down both of them...it all blurred the lines between victim and captor, between savior and destroyer.

"You don't even care," she whispered, her voice broken, her tears finally spilling over as her hand fell away from his scars.

Sarfaraaz's gaze darkened, not with anger but with a conflict he didn't know how to express. He cared more than he wanted to admit, but admitting it would be a weakness, a crack in the armor he had spent years perfecting.

His body moved on its own, stepping closer to her, the space between them shrinking until there was almost nothing left.

Her breath hitched as the heat of his skin, the intensity of his presence, wrapped around her like a second skin. She hated him, but her body betrayed her, responding to the electric pull between them.

His hand, now gentle, cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet his gaze."Don't mistake my silence for indifference," he said softly, his voice like a low growl, as though fighting against his own feelings. His thumb brushed over her trembling lips, the gesture both intimate and tormenting.

"But don't expect me to change, either."

Tania's tears fell freely now, her body frozen, torn between the man she had saved and the man who had ruined her. The man who, even now, in his cruelty, made her heart race with a dangerous mixture of fear and desire.

This was their fate intertwined in the most painful, ironic way.

______________________

Id: author_safiyah2617