In Sarfaraaz's Secret Hideout

Two days later...

Sarfaraaz sat in his armchair, surrounded by the dark, cold atmosphere that made the room feel haunting, mysterious, and chilling. Everything around him was shrouded in pitch black, save for the exposed skin of Sarfaraaz, who wore a sharp, pitch-black three-piece suit. He had just come straight from his company.

His trusted assassin, Taylor, would be here in a minute. He was anticipated to discover the truth that is covered by mystery. The post mortem report has become a rare piece as it had been missing from the police archive. Someone never wanted him to see it.

But he didn’t know that Sarfaraaz always found his own way. A little theft from his father-in-law's house won't hurt.  Though if Tania could know she will be tensed. But he didn’t mean any threat to his father in law. For now.

A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Come in," he commanded in a deep voice, his jaw tightening in anticipation.

"Here’s your report," Taylor, an Afro-American man, said in his sharp American accent, handing over an old khaki-colored file.

Sarfaraaz took it, his hand trembling slightly.

"And here’s the other thing you asked for," Taylor said, offering a small box.

Sarfaraaz stopped him with a firm look. "No, keep it. And take this with you," he said, opening the drawer of the pitch-black wooden desk. He pulled out a tiny packet and handed it to Taylor. "You know what to do with it."

Taylor hesitated. "Are you really sure about this, Boss?"

Sarfaraaz took a deep breath. "Yeah. It's important. Make sure no one knows about it. Not my secretary, not Ravi… and definitely not Rahat."

Rahat would never approve of this. Sarfaraaz knew that too well.

"Okay, Boss. Don’t worry about it," Taylor assured him.

"Good. You may go now. Your payment has already been deposited." Sarfaraaz’s tone was final.

Once Taylor was gone, Sarfaraaz opened the file with unsteady hands. Taylor had done a thorough job...he had brought the entire case report, not just the post-mortem findings.

Before turning to the post-mortem report, he flipped through the case file, reading the official description of his parents' deaths.

Pain, anxiety, and the panic of that horrific night crashed over him like a tidal wave. His fists clenched against the desk. He shut his eyes, forcing himself to recall something that could anchor him.....Hazel’s rare, carefree smile.

Minutes passed. When he finally felt steady, he turned back to the file.

But as he read, a sharp, piercing ache tore through his chest.

His breath hitched.

Something caught his eye.

The placement of the bottle of sleeping pills.

According to the report, it had been found in his father’s hand.

But that was wrong.

Even through the haze of painful memories, some details were seared into his mind. He clearly remembered seeing that bottle on the bedside table.

The report was flawed. No...worse. It was manipulated.

Heart pounding, he flipped to the post-mortem report. Tension coiled inside him, sweat forming on his forehead despite the cold air-conditioning.

It stated that his parents had died from an overdose of sleeping pills. That it was his father’s regular medication.

Another lie.

His father never took sleeping pills. Sarfaraaz was only nine at the time, but he was sure of it. He used to fetch his father’s medicine himself sometimes, from his medicine box. He had done it just two days before the so-called "accident."

And then...Alcohol.

The report claimed alcohol was found in his father’s system.

A grave, unforgivable lie.

His father never drank. Not once. His mother hated alcohol, and his father had sworn to her that he would never touch it. Even as a politician, he had kept that promise. His mother had been so proud of that.

Sarfaraaz’s grip on the papers tightened. His knuckles turned white. He wanted to tear them apart, burn them to ashes, but that wouldn’t change the truth.

Every damn thing in this report was a lie.

This wasn’t the real post-mortem report.

It was forged.

A cold rage settled inside him.
How the hell could this happen? Who had done this?

He needed answers. He needed to face Major Shafiq who was in charge of that case. The man had to explain this.

But he had to wait. For now. Because through the careful scheme, he had arranged for Major Shafiq Hussein to be sent abroad for leg treatment. He hadn’t shown himself–had handled everything through the Major’s doctor.

He wanted to make up for Tania  for what he did in the past. Even though he hated that man.

She didn’t know. He had planned to tell her when the time was right. He knew it'll make her happy.

But right now, he wasn’t so sure about his own action.

___________________________________

Later That Night

The night came by and I was still in my secret house. The silence in this place was suffocating, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall.

I sat on the couch, legs spread apart, elbows resting on my knees. My tie hung loose, the top three buttons of my shirt undone, but the air still felt stifling. A bottle of whiskey sat on the table–half-empty. I had drained glass after glass, yet the ache in my chest lingered.

My parents hadn’t left this world by choice. They hadn’t taken their own lives out of shame.

They had been murdered.

I leaned forward, my fingers pressing against my temples. The more I thought about it, the more the rage inside me grew, twisting like a beast clawing its way out.

The post-mortem report was fake. The case file was a lie.

And the worst part?

I believed it. For years, I let myself drown in guilt, in the agony of thinking my parents had chosen death because of us– me and Safina. When my father said we might have to suffer because of his deeds. I thought they took their life for this I let their so-called "suicide" define me, break me, turn me into this.....a man who knew nothing but destruction.

A sharp, bitter laugh  escaped my throat.

I had been played.

Every second, every sleepless night, every ounce of guilt...I had carried a weight that wasn’t mine.

The glass in my hand cracked under my grip. I barely noticed.

And Major Shafiq. The man I hated for putting my father into the position to take his own life maybe something more. I only hated him not listening to my father when he had a chance to prove himself innocent.

But what if there was something more to this. What if he was involved in this manipulation? After all he was the one given charge of this case.

Here I was starting to think.. maybe Hazel was right. Maybe I made the mistake of blaming her father for nothing.

But what if I was right?
For the first time in years, I questioned everything.

And for the first time in years…
I was afraid of the answer.

_____________________________________

By the time I reached home, it was nearly 4 a.m. If it weren’t for Muneeb being a little sick, I would have stayed at the safe house for the night.

After checking on my nephew, I made my way back to my room–Hazel’s room.

Stepping inside, I froze.

Someone was lying on my bed.

Instinctively, my hand reached for the gun at my waist, my body tensing for a fight. But as I moved closer, my heart stilled–no, danced to be exact.

Was I dreaming? Or was it just the alcohol playing tricks on me?

Tania...my Hazel...was sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. Her dark hair cascaded over the mattress, a stark contrast against the soft white cotton of her kurti-pajama set. She looked so serene, so breathtakingly peaceful, that for a moment, the storm inside me settled.

Shaking off the haze of whiskey and exhaustion, I set my laptop bag down on the table and headed straight for the shower. I didn’t want to go near her like this. Not in this state. Or I may end up doing something I had to regret later. Because my mind is a hell of a mess.

After a cold shower and  I changed into something more comfortable, I finally allowed myself to slip into bed beside her.

She stirred at the sudden movement and turned around, her sleepy eyes blinking up at me.

"Hey... you’re home. Finally." Her voice was soft, drowsy.

"Yeah." I exhaled, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her close. "Finally, I’m home."

Burying my face into the crook of her neck, I inhaled deeply, letting her scent ground me. Let it tame the raging tornado inside me.

"You’re really here, Hazel. I can’t believe it." My voice came out rough, almost fragile.

She shifted slightly, her hazel eyes meeting mine in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. "I missed you. So I came."

I blinked. Surprise flickered through me before I cupped her cheek, my thumb grazing her skin.

"You did the right thing," I murmured, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "My good girl."

Pressing her against my chest, I closed my eyes, holding her tighter.

For now, I just wanted time to stand still right there...so I could hold her, stay in her embrace forever.

_________________________________

The soft vibration of my phone pulled me from my peaceful slumber. Lately, peace only existed when I was beside my monster...Sarfaraaz.

Yesterday, after my classes, I had rushed home. A nightmare about him had gripped me with an unshakable fear. My heart refused to settle until I saw him. Until I was here.

With half-lidded eyes, I reached for my phone, blinking at the notification. The hospital.

Emergency duty. Now that I've just stepped into my final year, these hospital duties are crucial for gaining hands-on experience.

An accident.
More hands needed.

I sighed. Duty called. But for the first time, I hated it.

Because I didn’t want to leave him.

Not this time.

I wanted to stay. To return for real.
To confess.

It would sound absurd, but I didn’t care anymore. My life was already a mess, and he was part of that mess...the most beautiful one.

Taking a deep breath, I shook off the remnants of sleep and turned.

There he was. My husband. My captor.

Sarfaraaz lay in deep slumber, his usually sharp features softened, his face relaxed yet slightly frowning–almost like a child.

A rare sight.

Despite the regal mustache that gave him his intimidating presence, right now… he looked a softhearted human.

A soft smile tugged at my lips.

Leaning in, I pressed the gentlest of kisses against his left cheek, my lips barely ghosting over his skin.

"Sorry, I have to go this time." I whispered, my breath fanning against his ear.

My fingers slid into his silky jet-black hair, caressing him one last time before I pulled away.

"But when I return, get ready to be my world." My voice dropped into a promise. "Because I chose you over everything."

I got up and walked away, the weight of my unspoken words heavy on my chest.

Soon. I will tell him soon.

_____________________________

In the Hospital

"So, let me get this straight, you left without confessing your love? And while he was sleeping?!" Jubi’s tone was laced with pure disbelief.

"It was an emergency!" I pouted. "And he was sleeping so peacefully. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up."

Jubi groaned. "Tania, for someone who’s married to a ruthless mafia boss, you are too damn soft."

I rolled my eyes. "I’ll tell him soon. Once I’m free. Between hospital duties and studies, there’s barely time to breathe."

But in truth, I wanted to rush back to my Rayan and spill those three words.
To wrap myself in his warmth.
To never leave again.

"Are you sure he won’t be mad?" Jubi asked hesitantly.

I smiled. "He can’t stay angry with me. Not anymore."

Or so I hoped.

________________________________

Two Days Later

"You’re summoned by the VC," the class monitor informed me.

Me? Summoned by the Vice Chancellor?

Did I do something wrong?

A strange unease settled in my stomach as I walked toward the office. But the real surprise came when I found the VC standing at the door, waiting for me.

Something felt… off.

I offered him a polite smile. "Assalamu Alaikum, sir."

He returned it warmly. "Mrs. Tania, I summoned you for a purpose."

His tone carried an unsettling mystery, making my heart hammer against my ribs.

"Yes, sir? What purpose?"

"Our Head of Trustees requested to speak with you regarding your career." He paused. "He was concerned about your absence from classes and tests for the past few months."

I frowned. The Head of Trustees?

Concerned about me?

The irony burned. They expelled me without a second thought, and now someone cared?

But I nodded, forcing a smile. "I see. Thank you, sir."

"He’s waiting inside," the VC gestured toward the door.

Hesitating for a brief second, I finally turned the knob and stepped in.

The office was darker than I remembered. The air carried an unsettling heaviness.

At the far end of the room, a man sat with his back to me, broad-shouldered and commanding even in stillness.

The Head of Trustees.

I took a breath, preparing to greet him, but before I could–

"Get on the desk and spread your legs wide for me."

My blood ran cold.

Recognition slammed into me, setting my nerves on fire.

I didn’t need to see his face.

I knew that voice.

A mix of rage, embarrassment, and disbelief flooded my chest. I gritted my teeth, forcing my composure, and took slow, deliberate steps forward.

"I didn’t know that the career advice starts between my legs, Sir" I said defiantly.

When I reached him, I dragged my fingers lightly, teasingly down his back...then suddenly dug my nails in.

A sharp hiss.
A low, guttural moan.

His shoulders tensed.

"Fuck!" His voice was raspy. "You shouldn’t do that to the Trustee of your college, Mrs. Sarfaraaz Talukder."

I smirked, leaning down to whisper near his ear, "And you shouldn’t command a student to open her legs for you, Mr. Sarfaraaz Talukder."

Finally, he turned his chair to face me.

His stormy gaze locked onto mine, dark amusement flickering beneath the surface.

I folded my arms. "How the hell are you the Head of Trustees?"

He smirked. "I have my ways, Édesem."

My pulse skipped.

"Wait…" I swallowed hard. "Don’t tell me...you’re the one who lifted my expulsion order?"

Silence.

But his smirk deepened.

My stomach flipped. He did.

Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. A gasp left my lips as I tumbled into his lap, his arm locking around my waist.

"Why did you leave without telling me?" His voice dropped, low and accusing. "Do you have any idea how that felt?"

My cheeks burned.

"I-I did tell you!" I stammered. "Not my fault you were sleeping!"

"That’s a weak excuse, Hazel," he murmured against my ear, tightening his grip.

"Let me go," I mumbled, wriggling. "The VC is right outside!"

"He’s just guarding. He won’t come in."

Still, this was embarrassing.

"Rayan, let me go," I tried again, my voice flustered.

His grip only tightened.

"Nope, little wife. Not so soon. Let me take you into my system," he murmured, his face burying against my neck. With a slow, deliberate movement, he shifted my hijab just enough to make contact with my bare skin.

"Your scent, Hazel… the only thing that can calm me," he whispered, sending a shiver down my spine.

He inhaled deeply, his arms caging me in, while my fingers instinctively clutched at his.

"I want us to stay like this forever," he murmured. "I want to forget everything… except you. God! I really want this."

He pulled back slightly, cupping my face in his warm hands. His dark brown eyes were turbulent, a storm brewing within them.

Something was wrong. And it unsettled me.

"Did something happen?" I asked softly.

He took a deep breath, his grip tightening just a fraction. "Don’t ask me anything, Hazel. Just stay like this for a moment. Let me heal myself," he whispered before burying his face against my chest.

I couldn't ask him anything more–not when he was like this. Not when he was this vulnerable.

So I held him. Wrapped my arms around him. Let him find his peace.

Minutes passed before I finally found the courage to say what had been on my mind. To surrender in the way my heart truly wanted.

"Will you take me home?" I murmured against his hair.

He stilled. Then, he pulled back instantly, locking his dark gaze with mine, searching.

"What did you just say?"

I swallowed, then offered a soft, reassuring smile. "I said… will you take me home?"

His fingers twitched around mine. "That home is yours, Édesem. You can go back anytime."

I exhaled slowly, tightening my hold on his hands.

"I'm talking about shifting… permanently."

His breath hitched. "Really? Hazel?"

God. He looked so unguarded, so disbelieving...it made my heart clench.

"Yes," I whispered, chuckling softly. "Take me home, Rayan."

The next moment, his lips crashed against mine.

So familiar. So right. Like the missing piece of a puzzle finally falling into place.

I surrendered to him. Let him deepen the kiss. Let my arms wrap around his neck, holding him close.

When he finally pulled back, we rested our foreheads together, breaths mingling.

"I love you, Tania Sarfaraaz Talukder," he murmured, his voice raw, panting.

I closed my eyes, swallowing the words that trembled on the tip of my tongue.

I love you too.

But I wouldn’t say it now.

Not like this.

I wanted it to be special. A moment that belonged only to us.

_______________________________