The next morning, Lucknow woke beneath a pale golden sun.

Inside the luxurious penthouse suite, silence stretched lazily across the massive living room, broken only by the faint sound of pages turning.

Uzair stepped out of his room after getting ready for the day, dressed in a crisp black shirt with the sleeves folded neatly to his forearms and dark trousers that only added to the intimidating elegance he carried so effortlessly.

Fresh from the shower, his damp hair pushed back carelessly, an expensive watch gleaming against his wrist, he looked more like a businessman and nothing like a man people crossed roads to avoid.

The moment he entered the living room, his brows furrowed slightly because Zaid was sitting comfortably on the couch and….. Reading a book.

At eight in the morning.

Uzair looked at him like he had finally lost his mind. Meanwhile, Zaid did not even bother looking up from the pages.

Instead, he casually slid a thick file across the table toward him. “Here,” he said lazily. “Everything about Yusra Zaidi.”

That got Uzair’s full attention instantly. “Yusra Zaidi.” He repeated softly as if testing how her name sounds on his tongue.

He walked forward, picked up the file, and sat down opposite him.

The moment he opened the first page and saw her photograph clipped inside…..He stopped.

Hazel eyes. Long raven hair. That same rebellious spark frozen perfectly in the picture and suddenly, the market noise echoed in his head again.

“BHADWA!”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips.

Zaid didn't even look up from his book and leaned back comfortably.

“Her father, Aamir Zaidi, owns one of the biggest textile businesses in Lucknow,” he began casually. “Old money. Respectable family. Powerful connections.”

Uzair’s eyes moved across the file carefully. “Aamir Zaidi…” he repeated softly.

“Her elder brother, Zubair, handles their import-export business. Married. One son. Zayan.”

Uzair's eyes were glued to the folder.

“Her mother is Shabnam Zaidi. Homemaker. Typical loving desi mother. Her bhabhi, Zara…” Zaid smirked faintly. “Interesting woman.”

Uzair finally looked up.

“She loves Yusra as a sister more than her own idiot brother. She used to teach in her mother Ambreen’s school too. Same as Yusra. But after her son was born, she stopped working……And yes,”

Zaid continued calmly, “that bhadwa you slapped yesterday is Ambreen’s son.”

A dark amusement flashed in Uzair’s eyes.

“Apparently he sent a marriage proposal for Yusra. She rejected him.”

That earned a visible smirk from Uzair.

“Since then,” Zaid continued, “mother and son both have made her life hell.”

Uzair’s jaw tightened slightly.

“She still tolerates everything because she loves her bhabhi Zara too much and didn't tell her father what they both do to her. Otherwise…” Zaid whistled softly. “Her father would burn that very school he helped his sister in making for her living to the ground before letting his daughter suffer.”

Something strangely warm settled in Uzair’s chest hearing that. She is loved, protected and valued. Good.

His eyes dropped back to the file. There were her college photographs now.

A younger Yusra. Laughing openly. Fighting with someone in another candid. Standing on a desk in one picture while arguing with a professor.

Uzair actually chuckled softly because it was Yusra’s fearless boldness that had stolen Uzair’s heart at first sight.

Zaid noticed instantly. “Oh, you have no idea,” he grinned. “Since school then in college, she was just like that. Full rebel piece. That's why it wasn't hard to get these pictures.”

Uzair turned another page.

“She never had a boyfriend,” Zaid added. “Not even rumors. Only one best friend since childhood. Aastha. The girl from yesterday.”

Uzair listened carefully, satisfied that he doesn't have to do unnecessary drama of making any man out of her life. She is single.

“She talks a lot,” Zaid continued dramatically. “Fearless. Absolutely shameless when angry. Once a guy tried harassing Aastha in college…”

A dangerous gleam entered Uzair’s eyes instantly. “What happened?”

Zaid burst out laughing. “Yusra happened.”

Uzair leaned back slightly, interested now.

“She beat the guy in front of the entire campus. Alone. Like an animal. Broke his nose too, apparently.”

A slow… Very slow smile spread across Uzair’s face. Pride. Actual pride. Like he was hearing praise for someone already his.

“She does not get scared easily,” Zaid added. “Loud mouth. Short temper. Protective as hell. And that little kid Zayan…” he shook his head. “Her heart lives in him. Yes, she becomes childish while fighting with him but she loves Zayan deeply like her own child.”

Uzair’s gaze softened unconsciously.

He could imagine it perfectly. Her angry little face. That dramatic voice. Those expressive eyes and somehow… Every single thing he learned only pulled him deeper.

Then Zaid suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh yes. The most important part.”

Uzair looked up.

“Her dadi and your dadijaan were distant cousins.”

Silence crept into that room for a moment. Then slowly… Very slowly… Something dangerous appeared on Uzair’s face.

A plan.

A devilishly clever one.

Zaid saw it immediately and groaned. “There it is. That criminal expression. I knew it.”

Uzair closed the file calmly. But the faint smirk on his lips remained.

“You do not need me to explain how useful that connection can be, right?” Zaid teased knowingly.

Uzair stood up with the file still in his hand. “Get the second thing done quickly,” he ordered calmly.

Zaid saluted lazily without lifting his eyes from the book again. “Already working on it.”

Uzair walked back toward his room and the moment the door closed behind him…The world outside disappeared again.

He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed and reopened the file.

Her photograph stared back at him and God… Now that he was looking carefully….She was beautiful.

Not the delicate, fragile kind.

No.

Yusra Zaidi looked alive.

Those expressive hazel eyes looked like they carried storms inside them.

Her lips… Heart shaped. Perfectly pink. Made for arguing. Made for cursing. Made for smiling that dangerous little smile that had already ruined his peace and of course, to kiss the hell out of her.

His fingers brushed lightly over the photograph unconsciously. “She slapped him with a sandal in the middle of the road,” he murmured under his breath, almost amused as he turned one photo after another.

And somehow… That memory affected him more than any polished, graceful woman ever could.

Because Yusra was real. Bold. Sharp-tongued. Fearless. She fought for herself. Protected people she loved. Spoke without filters.

And still…

There was softness in her too. The way she worried about her bhabhi. The way she handled children. The way her face lit up while teasing that tiny boy.

Uzair leaned back slowly, still staring at her picture because he wanted a life partner exactly like that. Bold and fearless. Who could fit in his dangerous world but still she would be the most alive and the innocent soul he ever knew and Yusra is exactly like that.

For years… People had feared him. Respected him. Wanted things from him. Women threw themselves at him constantly.

But not once… Not once had his heart reacted. Until yesterday.

One meeting. One touch. One hug and now this woman had occupied his entire mind like she belonged there.

A slow possessive look entered his eyes.

“My rebellious little queen…” he murmured softly.

He could already picture it. Yusra in his home. Fighting with him. Arguing with him. Cursing at him. Walking around like she owned every piece of him.

And strangely… The thought felt right. Dangerously right.

Uzair looked down at her photograph one last time. Then a faint smile tugged at his lips.

No matter how long it took…Yusra Zaidi would become his Begum. That's what he knows.

Uzair emerged from his room sometime later, the sleeves of his black shirt still rolled up to his forearms. His sharp gaze immediately landed on Zaid, who was still sprawled on the couch, completely absorbed in the same book.

Uzair paused for a moment, eyebrows slightly raised wondering from when he got into books like this?

“Is the work done?” he asked, voice calm but commanding.

“Yup,” Zaid replied without lifting his eyes from the pages. “I’ve located that bhadwa Fahad. Now you can go and enjoy your little meeting.”

“Good.” Uzair walked closer. “What are you reading?” he asked, snatching the book away from his hold.

“Heyyy!” Now the spell broke, and Zaid looked at him.

“What is it?” He asked, looking at the sluty cover of the book. “Impermissible!” and frowned. “What the hell are you reading?” he said while throwing the book in his direction, and Zaid held it in the air as if his life depended on it.

“How dare you?” Zaid gasped dramatically.

Uzair scoffed at his theatrics and pulled the book back from his grip, ignoring the protest. 

“Be gentle!!!” He gasped, and Uzair royally ignored him.

He randomly flipped it open and began reading a paragraph. Within seconds, his eyes widened slightly.

He looked up at Zaid, who was now grinning like an idiot.

“Horny bastard,” Uzair muttered. “You are reading Porn.”

The pages kept getting filthier. Vincent had Vanessa pressed against the office desk, her skirt pushed up to her waist, while he…

Uzair turned a few more pages, expression growing more amused and judgmental with every line.

“From when did you develop this addiction?” he asked, surprised.

“It’s marvelous, isn’t it?” Zaid asked, flashing his teeth.

“It’s nonsense…”

“Heyy! Don’t say that,” Zaid cut him off, suddenly defensive.

“You are behaving like a teenage girl, who is obsessed with romantic novels. Correction. Dirty novels.” Uzair said while chuckling at him mockingly. “Damn you bastard; not even my sister had such hobbies. What the hell is this stuff? Who writes such things and idiots like you are reading it?”

“She is a bestselling author.” Zaid protested.

Uzair raised an eyebrow. “How do you know the writer is a woman?” He searched for the author’s name on the cover. “Aphrodite,” he read with a low chuckle. “The goddess of sex. How childish.”

“Nope. Never disrespect someone’s hard work. That’s what you always say, right?” Zaid shot back. “She’s really good at what she does…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve read all her books,” Uzair said, mildly shocked.

“Yeah, I have,” Zaid confessed, scratching the back of his neck.

Uzair shook his head. “Son of a bitch. From where did all of this start?”

“One of my bed warmers left her book behind. I picked it up out of boredom… and got hooked. Now I only read her, no one else.”

Uzair smirked. “You’re sounding like a girl. No wonder you’ve always behaved like a pussy.”

Zaid tried to kick him, but Uzair moved away smoothly, avoiding any contact with his perfectly tailored trousers.

“Girls are crazy for her books,” Zaid continued. “What would you do if your Yusra turned out to be her fan?”

Uzair’s eyes darkened with a dangerous glint. “Then I’ll kill you and use your tongue as her personal audiobook.”

Zaid laughed. “Take my advice, man. Read a few of these. You might get some theoretical knowledge before doing it practically with your future Begum.”

“I don’t need cheap porn books to learn how to worship my queen,” Uzair replied coldly, throwing the book right onto Zaid’s lap, dangerously close to his crotch. Zaid hissed and jerked back.

Uzair turned to leave, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Get up, we have to go and meet that bastard and what about the other meeting I told you?”

“Don't worry, by Monday evening you will be inside her house.” Zaid replied, smirking.

A few minutes later, both of them finally stepped out of the penthouse suite.

The private elevator opened directly into the underground parking where their black luxury SUV already waited.

Uzair slid into the passenger seat while Zaid took the driver’s seat casually.

The engine roared to life and for a few moments, silence stretched between them then Uzair finally asked, “Where is Badshah?”

Zaid snorted softly while turning the steering wheel. “Went home.”

Uzair glanced at him. “To soon?” he asked dryly.

Zaid laughed. “No. To continue whatever sinful activities he started yesterday.”

A faint smirk appeared on Uzair’s lips before disappearing just as quickly.

The car sped through Lucknow’s busy streets before finally slowing outside one of the city’s largest luxury gyms.

Glass walls. Imported machines. Expensive crowd. Exactly the type of place a spoiled rich idiot like Fahad would haunt.

Zaid parked the car smoothly and the moment both men stepped out, the atmosphere itself shifted.

People noticed them instantly.

Not because they recognized them. But because men like Uzair carried danger naturally.

The two entered the gym calmly.

Inside, loud music echoed through the massive hall and there he was.

Mr. Bhadwa aka Fahad.

Running on a treadmill with headphones on, completely unaware of the devil who is here for him.

Uzair’s gaze locked onto him immediately, cold and unblinking.

Without saying a word, he walked straight toward the machine. Then casually pressed the emergency stop button.

The treadmill jerked violently and Fahad stumbled forward, almost falling flat on his face before grabbing the handles.

“What the hell?” he snapped angrily, yanking off his headphones then he looked up and froze.

Uzair stood in front of him calmly. Perfectly composed. That same terrifyingly calm expression from yesterday.

Beside him stood Zaid, already smirking.

Fahad’s face visibly changed color and the slap from yesterday again ringed in his head.

“What kind of nonsense is this?” he snapped anyway, trying to act brave.

Uzair smiled. A very small smile. The dangerous kind. “I came to meet you,” he said smoothly. “My future saale sahab (brother-in-law).”

A few people nearby immediately turned toward them curiously.

Fahad stiffened hearing the word saale sahab.

Zaid clapped his hands loudly once and looked around casually. “Everyone out. The gym's closed.”

People blinked in confusion and one man frowned. “Excuse me?”

Right then the gym owner hurried forward nervously who had already been threatened beforehand. Very thoroughly.

“Sir, please,” he said politely to everyone. “Technical issue. The gym is temporarily closing. Please cooperate.”

Murmurs spread instantly and within minutes people started leaving.

Fahad looked around in growing confusion. “What the hell is going on?”

The moment the gym emptied completely… Zaid moved fast. He grabbed Fahad by the collar and dragged him off the treadmill like he weighed nothing.

“Hey! Leave me!” Fahad shouted.

Zaid ignored him completely and shoved him down onto a nearby workout bench.

Fahad looked genuinely rattled now. “What kind of hooliganism is this? I'll call the police.”

Uzair slowly stepped forward. Then placed one foot casually on the bench beside Fahad. Towering over him. Dominating the entire space without even trying.

His expression remained calm. Too calm. “That?” Uzair asked softly. “That was not even the beginning of hooliganism.”

Fahad swallowed. For the first time since yesterday…Actual fear crept into him.

Uzair leaned slightly closer. The massive gym had fallen completely silent. Not a single machine running. Not a single person was left inside.

Only the low hum of the AC echoed through the huge hall while Fahad sat on the bench, breathing unevenly, trying very hard not to look intimidated.

But the problem was…The man standing in front of him did not look humanly calm.

Uzair Chaudhry looked dangerous in the worst possible way. Like violence wrapped in expensive clothes.

One foot still rested casually on the bench beside Fahad while his rolled sleeves exposed strong forearms lined with veins that somehow looked more threatening than comforting. His expression remained unreadable and that was the scariest part.

Fahad forced himself to stand up, jerking his collar free from Zaid’s grip. “You think you can threaten me?” he snapped, trying to regain his pride. “Do you even know who I am?”

Zaid almost laughed.

Uzair simply looked at him. Then smiled. Slowly. “Unfortunately,” he said calmly, “yes.” That smile vanished just as quickly. “And I am deeply disappointed.”

“I know you are not Yusra's boyfriend.” Fahad clenched his jaw. “Abd whatever happened yesterday was between me and Yusra. You are nobody in this matter.”

Uzair’s eyes darkened slightly at her name. “Nobody?” he repeated softly.

Then suddenly… He grabbed Fahad by the throat. Fast. So fast Fahad did not even realize what happened until his back slammed against the mirror wall behind him.

CRACK.

The mirror trembled violently. Fahad gasped, fingers instantly clutching Uzair’s wrist and Uzair…Did not even look angry. He looked calm. Terrifyingly calm.

“That,” Uzair said quietly, tightening his hold just enough to make breathing difficult, “is where you are wrong.”

Fahad struggled slightly. “Leave… my throat…”

Uzair ignored him completely. “You have been harassing her for months,” he continued softly. “Touching her peace. Following her around. Forcing yourself into her space because she stayed silent.”

His gaze sharpened dangerously. “And now you think silence means weakness.”

Fahad swallowed painfully.

Uzair leaned slightly closer. “Listen carefully, you Bhadwe,” his voice dropped lower, colder. “Men like you survive because good girls avoid scandals.”

Zaid stood nearby silently now, watching. Even he knew. This was Uzair barely controlling himself.

“But unfortunately for you…” Uzair continued calmly, “I am not a good man.”

The air shifted heavily and deadly.

Fahad finally understood something was horribly wrong here. Because this was not normal anger. This man genuinely looked capable of murder. A very dangerous man.

“Have you ever wondered if I tell mamujaan about your little affair then what he will do?” Fahad forced out despite the pressure on his throat. “You think he will accept a roadside thug touching his daughter?”

For the first time…Uzair laughed. A low, dangerous sound. Then he released Fahad suddenly and Fahad stumbled forward coughing violently.

Uzair calmly adjusted his cufflinks again like nothing happened. “Roadside thug?” he repeated, almost amused. Then his eyes lifted toward Fahad again.

“Do you know what kind of men become dangerous?” he asked quietly.

Fahad stayed silent.

Uzair answered himself. “The ones who have enough power to destroy lives quietly.”

A chill crawled down Fahad’s spine.

Uzair walked slowly around him now. Unhurried. Controlled. Like a predator circling prey.

“You threatened me with Aamir Zaidi,” he continued calmly. “Interesting mistake.”

Fahad frowned slightly.

Uzair stopped behind him. “What do you think will happen,” he asked softly, “the day your mamujaan finds out his precious sister and her son turned his daughter into unpaid labor?”

Fahad’s face changed instantly because no one knew about it unless Yusra herself told him about it. Does that mean she's actually his girlfriend? But how? Fahad wondered.

“What do you think happens,” Uzair continued, “when he learns his daughter is in a miserable state because of you and your mother?”

Silence.

“And what do you think,” his voice hardened further, “he will do after hearing how you force yourself around her despite rejection?”

Fahad opened his mouth quickly. “She is lying……”

Uzair grabbed his jaw brutally. Hard enough to make him wince.

“She rejected you,” Uzair said coldly. “That should have been the end.” His grip tightened. “But you kept chasing her like a stray dog that cannot understand the word no.”

Humiliation flashed across Fahad’s face.

Uzair released him with visible disgust. Then he stepped back slightly and somehow… That distance felt more frightening.

“Now let me explain something very clearly,” he said quietly.

Zaid folded his arms, already smirking because he knew that tone. That tone usually ended badly for people.

Uzair’s gaze locked onto Fahad’s trembling face. “Now listen to me very carefully,” he said quietly, each word landing heavier than the last. “If you ever make the mistake of looking at my Yusra again with those filthy intentions…”

He took one slow step closer. “…I will have that same mamujaan of yours throw you onto the streets like a dog.”

Fahad’s face paled but Uzair did not stop.

“The same man whose money built your lifestyle,” he continued calmly. “The same man because of whom you and your mother walk around wrapped in luxury.” His eyes darkened further. “Owns that school. The clothes you wear. The cars you drive. The gym you show off in. That fake status you are so proud of…” A humorless smile touched his lips. “All of it exists because Aamir Zaidi loves his sister.”

Fahad swallowed hard..Because that part… That part was true. Brutally true.

Uzair tilted his head slightly, studying him like prey.

“And trust me,” he murmured softly, “the day he realizes his beloved sister and her shameless son turned his daughter into a miserable unpaid servant…” His voice dropped lower. “…he will not even spit on your downfall.”

Fahad’s breathing grew uneven now.

Uzair moved closer again until there was barely any distance left between them. “Until now Yusra tolerated you because she respects relationships,” he said quietly. “But now…” A dangerous possessive glint entered his eyes. “Yusra is mine.”

The words hit like a bullet. Not loud. Not dramatic. Worse. Certain. Absolute.

“And if you even dare raise your eyes toward her again…” Uzair’s voice turned ice cold, “it becomes personal for me.”

A heavy silence followed and Fahad felt it then. Not anger. Not jealousy. Ownership. The terrifying kind. The kind men kill for.

Uzair stared at him for another moment before suddenly gripping Fahad’s jaw painfully hard. “And trust me,” Uzair continued, “you do not want to become personal to me.”

Then he shoved him away in disgust.

Fahad stumbled backward, breathing hard, hands shaking slightly despite trying to hide it. Because deep down… He knew. Every single word Uzair spoke was possible and that was the scariest part because he couldn't afford Aamir's anger.

Uzair suddenly picked up a forty kilo dumbbell with one hand..Effortlessly and slammed it down onto the bench beside Fahad’s hand.

BANG.

The metal cracked the wooden surface instantly. Fahad jerked back in horror.

Uzair leaned closer one final time. “This was the bench,” he murmured calmly. Then his eyes dropped toward Fahad slowly towards his head. “Next time…” He did not finish the sentence. He did not need to.

Because Fahad finally understood. This man was not threatening him emotionally. He meant every word.

Uzair straightened fully and slipped his hands into his pockets. “And one more thing,” he added casually. “Make your mother understand properly, from now on, she will not make Yusra do any work. Otherwise, I’ll have the entire school shut down.”

Uzair turned around calmly and started walking toward the exit without even sparing him another glance like this conversation had bored him.

Zaid followed behind him with a grin tugging at his lips before following Uzair out.

And for the first time in years…Fahad Qureshi sat there genuinely terrified.

Monday morning arrived like a punishment.

After spending her entire weekend buried under report cards, remarks, activity sheets, and extra work dumped on her by Ambreen, Yusra woke up already irritated at life itself.

Her mood was rotten and her patience nonexistent.

And the moment she entered the school gates, she marched straight toward the principal’s office carrying the stack of completed report cards like they personally offended her existence.

“This slavery will kill me one day,” she muttered under her breath while pushing open the office door.

Thankfully Ambreen had not arrived yet and without wasting a second, Yusra dumped the files dramatically on the desk.

THUD.

“There,” she muttered proudly. “Before that woman can invent more work for me I should run.”

Mission accomplished. She turned immediately and walked back out into the hallway and then… Her mood worsened further.

Because coming from the opposite direction was none other than Vice Principal Bhadwa himself.

Yusra’s lips instantly flattened. “Great,” she whispered sarcastically. “What a beautiful start to the morning.”

Usually by now he would already be smirking shamelessly or saying something irritating enough to raise her blood pressure.

But today….The second Fahad saw her… He froze. Actually froze. Then like a deeply traumatized man remembering war flashbacks….He immediately changed directions.

Completely turned around and walked the other way. Fast.

Yusra stopped walking, blinking. “What…”

She stared after him in disbelief. Then slowly… Very slowly… A huge smile spread across her face. “Oh my God. That idiot actually believed it.” She was over the moon. “He believed the stranger was my boyfriend.”

A victorious grin exploded across her lips so suddenly that one of the peons passing nearby got startled seeing her smiling at empty air.

The rest of the morning passed suspiciously peacefully. No Fahad outside her classroom. No unnecessary flirting. No random visits. No irritating comments. Nothing.

For the first time since joining the school… Yusra Zaidi experienced workplace peace and she was thriving.

The nursery class practically turned into a festival because her mood was so unusually good.

She sang rhymes dramatically with the kids. Gave extra stickers. Even allowed Zayan to draw two suns instead of one.

Zayan looked suspicious immediately. “Am I dyinn?” he asked seriously in his broken little voice.

Yusra gasped. “Excuse me? I can also be nice.”

“No,” Zayan replied honestly.

The entire class burst into giggles while Yusra glared at her tiny traitor.

During recess she practically ran toward Aastha with excitement. “That bhadwa avoided me today,” she announced proudly while opening her lunchbox. “Completely. Didn’t even breathe near my classroom.”

“Good. But….” Aastha narrowed her eyes immediately. “Yusra… what you did that day was insane. You shouldn't have done that.”

Yusra rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh please.”

“I’m serious,” Aastha whispered harshly. “What if that man had turned out to be dangerous? What if he had done something wrong to us?”

“Stop being negative all the time,” Yusra replied while stuffing fries into her mouth. “He helped and left. End of story.”

Aastha still looked unconvinced. “Normal people do not slap strangers unconscious for girls they just met.”

Yusra paused. “…Fair point.” Then immediately shook it off. “But still. Good man. Very useful man.”

Aastha stared at her like she had officially lost her sanity.

The rest of the school day passed surprisingly smoothly too and by afternoon, Yusra left with Zayan while happily believing her fake boyfriend drama had solved her biggest problem permanently.

But the moment she entered home… Chaos greeted her.

Loud voices echoed from the living room. Male voices.nConversation. Some laughter.

And right beside her tiny hurricane Zayan started shouting dramatically, “DADIIIJAAN I AM HUNGRY.”

“AND I AM DEAD,” Yusra added loudly behind him.

Both walked inside noisily until suddenly Shabnam appeared near the hallway looking horrified. “Yusra!” she whisper-scolded immediately. “Are you a child? What is this way of entering the house?”

Yusra blinked innocently while pouting cutely, “What did I do?” 

“There are guests sitting inside,” Shabnam hissed quietly. “Go upstairs properly.”

Then before Yusra could even ask who had arrived, Shabnam hurried back toward the living room.

Yusra frowned curiously. “Who even came…” 

She leaned slightly to peek toward the sitting area and the second her eyes landed there…

Her soul left her body.