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0 8 : n o t  a  d a t e

does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?

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The city of Lahore lay shrouded in a thick cloak of gloom, with no hope of clear skies or sunshine. The storming clouds were rolling in, promising yet another day of damnable rain. It chafed at me that I had to sit through yet another hour of mind-numbing meetings with the company heads. With my grandfather's fraying health, it had become imperative for my family to consolidate power and fortify our share in the family businesses.

With a fortune at stake and a sprawling empire at risk, hard decisions had to be taken, swift and ruthless. I listened with disdain as our legal team mulled over the various ways Dada Jaan's estate, including his assets, funds and businesses could be divided up between the members of the family. I almost felt sorry for our head counsel, who had been a loyal member of our team for years now. With two feuding families, a shiny legacy and a couple of billion dollars thrown into the mix, the man did not have an easy task cut out for him.

And with Zaroon and his brother Shahzad, having returned for good, it was pretty evident the brothers were here to stay. To reclaim their former glory and get back what they thought rightfully belonged to them.

"Zaroon has no legal claim over the businesses, but some of the properties can be disputed. I believe the estates in London, Zurich and Milan might be of particular interest to the brothers." Mr. Zeeshan, our legal counsel said.

I lifted a stack of papers to review later tonight. My legal team had gone above and beyond to assist us with the distribution of wealth and assets, but in a maze of lies and deceits, it was hard to trust anyone.

"Mr. Zeeshan, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. The Villa in Italy is important for both Shanzae and me. Make sure it stays." I said.

"Very well, Miss Malik. We will see to what can be done."

I glanced at the elderly man and smiled curtly. He nodded, straightening his coat and prepared to leave. But just as he was about to leave, it suddenly occurred to me. "What about the Lal Mahal, Mr. Zeeshan?"

The man sighed laboriously, looking tired and haggard, "It's very difficult to say who can lay rightful claim over that property. The deed of the property is particularly complicated and was purposefully devised to be as such to prevent any one member from laying claim over it. But in short the Lal Mahal belongs to the company. It's part of the family trust."

The concerned look on his face told me everything I needed to know and I knew I had to act fast. I'd be damned if I lost this house. Once alone, I leaned back into my seat, smirking in satisfaction. This would be one hell of a game, especially since there were no rules. I knew this would be hard, but the need to burn my wretched ex and cousin to the ground roared within me like a monster.

Placing my arms on my desk, I moved closer to review the papers, when Alina walked in with a carefully wrapped orange box. From the characteristic packaging, it wasn't hard to guess the contents of the box.

"Guess someone knows you well." Alina said, keeping the box on my desk and sliding it towards me.

"Who sent it?" I stared at the box for a moment too long, before pulling the horse carriage embossed brown ribbon from the box. As soon as I removed the lid, my eyes were drawn to the stunning red Kelly bag resting inside. At first, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was unmistakably made of crocodile skin. The colour was vibrant and bold, and it seemed to glow in the light of the room.

"How did he know you wanted this bag?" Alina's voice came out low and wondrous, her eyes like mine glued at the beauty in my hand.

"Who sent this?"

"You know who did."

My heart sank at the possibility. Like the rest of the gifts Zaroon had sent, the bag was doomed to the same fate. My dustbin. The beauty didn't deserve it.

"Throw it away."

"What?" Alina almost screamed in disbelief.

"You know the drill." I sighed pushing the box away, when my eyes caught sight of a small neatly folded piece of paper tucked in the corner of the box. I quickly reached forward, pulling the note out.

I picked up the note and stared at the Mughal & Co Law Firm logo embossed on top of the paper and the neatly inscribed message inside.

I hope you'll wear it to the party.
-A

I couldn't believe my eyes when I read the note. This bag has been on my list for a while, but I hadn't had the time to fly down to Paris. My heart skipped a beat as I took in the beauty of the bag, the buttery leather, the subtle stitching, the perfectly placed hardware. I couldn't believe he had actually managed to get his hands on it.

I stared at the note for a minute, my smile growing and my heart pounding. I hadn't felt this exhilarated in a very long time. The thoughtfulness, the generosity, the affection, suddenly overwhelmed me.

Alina cleared her throat, flashing me a teasing smile before quickly slipping outside my office, leaving me to the safe sanctuary of my thoughts. I picked up my phone to give him a call, but then decided to text him instead.

"What is this?" Azaan's response was immediate, and I could almost feel the smirk on his face.

"The better question is, who is this?" he wrote back. Despite his question, I had a feeling he knew exactly who it was.

"Layla," I typed, "and what is this box doing in my office?"

I couldn't help but smile like a lovesick teenager as I waited for his response. It was like a game, this playful banter between us.

"You're texting me. You do realise I now have your number? 🙃 " he teased.

I blushed, remembering how I had initially refused to give him my number. "I'm surprised you didn't already have it," I replied.

"If I remember correctly, which I do, you didn't want me to have it," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Given your reputation, I thought you would have fished it out by now 🎣 ," I joked.

"My reputation precedes me, I do have some morals. I don't go 'fishing' around for a girl's number," he replied.

"Aren't you honourable? 🥺 " I asked, unable to keep the smile off my face.

"Very 😌," he said, and I could almost feel his confidence radiating through the screen.

As fun as this little conversation was, I knew I had to put a stop to it. "Why have you sent this?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the flirtatious banter.

"Sent what?" he replied, and I could tell he was still enjoying the playful back-and-forth.

"Stop it," I typed. "What is this box doing in my office?"

"What box?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Stop acting," I wrote. "Why have you sent it?"

"Azaaaaaaan."

"Say it again."

"??"

"My name. 🤤"

I felt my cheeks flush, and I knew he was smiling just as wide as I was. It was like we were two teenagers flirting for the first time, giddy with the intoxicating flavour of love.

In my mind, I could see him sitting at his desk, his hands poised over his phone as he typed with a mischievous grin on his face. I couldn't help but imagine him enjoying this little game we were playing, even if it was at my expense. Despite knowing that I should probably put an end to it, I couldn't resist the thrill of it all. After all, what harm could a little fun do?

"Why have you sent this bag?"

There was a pause before his response appeared on the screen. The dots appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared.

"Because I know you love bags," he wrote.

My heart skipped a beat. I did love bags, but I couldn't possibly accept such an expensive gift from him. "I do. But..."

"It's a limited edition Hermès," he wrote, as if reading my mind.

"I know what it is," I replied. "But I can't possibly accept this."

"It would go well with your outfit on Saturday," he added.

I sighed. I had been looking forward to the party on Saturday, but I wasn't sure I was ready to face Azaan again. "I'm not coming, A," I typed.

There was silence, before an eerie smiley face appeared on my screen,

🙂

I'm serious.

Ok.

Azaaann! Stop!

🙂

Azaan.

🐒

You're such a dork!
And for the last time, I'm not coming.

🙊

I began to type again but before I could argue further the phone began to buzz with his name. My smile fell, swiftly replaced with a grim frown. It was easier to fight with him over text. The man was much more convincing in person.

"Stop scowling." He chuckled, his dark unruly hair, chocolate eyes and unshaven jaw appearing on my screen. Thick strands of hair fell upon his forehead and his lips were curled up in a lazy drawl. "Having a bad day?" His lips thinned into an unhurried smile, his characteristic practiced move meant to draw you in and leave you at his mercy.

Another thrill of awareness thundered through me at the sight of those perfect lips. How would they feel?

As if reading my inappropriate thoughts, his gaze drifted to my lips and his twitched in what felt like a mixture of amusement and victory.

"Yes. Too many meetings." I replied quickly, putting a rather abrupt end to my straying thoughts.

"Guess you can thank me for making it better."

"I told you, I cannot accept your—"

"I wasn't talking about the gift. I was talking about me." He winked and then relaxed back into his seat. "Seeing me made your day better. Didn't it, Lee lee?"

I could sense the cocky confidence radiating from him, the fire emanating from his intense stare had me rooted to my spot. The aristocratic arrogance of his power and charisma seemed to bleed off his face, but it wasn't conceited. Instead it was the cool confidence of a man who could bring the entire world to his feet with a single biting gaze.

As he leaned in, his eyes never once left mine, the heat in them freezing me to my spot. For a moment, I almost forgot how to breathe, when he leaned closer and whispered in a husky tone, "Answer me, Lee Lee. Did I make it better?"

"Yes." I murmured, the word barely audible. He wasn't even near me, yet I was losing ground. It was his hypnotic pull that had me losing myself to the spell he seems to have cast over me. His burning presence making simple tasks like breathing and thinking difficult.

He leaned back, victoriously, a smug smile on his face. This man extruded sin and seduction. "That wasn't hard to admit, was it?"

The hypnotic spell that had fallen over me broke like brittle glass and I straightened, dismissing whatever sorcery he had cast over me moments ago. He regarded me with a shrewd gaze, having expertly navigated through the conversation, manipulating me out of my reasons for having this conversation to begin with. In the short time I had known Azaan, I found him to be a charming man, powerfully persuasive and cunningly calculative. When he set his mind to something, he'd readily bargain with the Devil himself, but more importantly I knew he'd come out on the top.

"Seeing me always makes your day better, doesn't it?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the irritation that threatened to show on my face. He had successfully changed the topic. He was insufferable, but there was something undeniably charming about him.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" I grumbled.

"Ah, but you love me for it," he replied, his voice low and smooth.

"I don't love you," I protested, although my heart was beating a little faster at the words.

"Not yet, but you will," he said confidently, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Azaan. I'm not attending the party with you, we've already discussed it." I sighed.

"We can discuss that later."

"Azaan." I shook my head, " As much as I like the bag and appreciate the gesture. I can't keep it. The gifts won't convince me."

"Did you like the bag?"

"Like? I love it! But I can't—."

"Then please accept it." I opened my mouth but he shut me down with a raised finger. "Even if you do not plan on coming to the party, I still want you to keep it. It's a gift not a bribe."

"It's not a bribe?"

"Maybe a little bit, but trust me it is a gift. I know you wanted it." He sensed the hesitation on my face and whispered, "Accept it for me. It'd make me very happy if you did."

"I'm speechless. You have no idea how long I've been wanting to buy this bag in this colour."

"I know."

"How did you?"

He shrugged, "I just knew."

"This is so perfect. I don't know how to thank you."

"Have dinner with me?"

"There we go again."

"It's just dinner. I promise." He straightened in his seat with a self-satisfied entitled smirk, making me want to equal parts run my finger over his lips and punch him straight across the jaw. Either way my ultimate and only desire right now was to wipe the lazy smirk that had me feeling both unnerved and unsettled off his face. And in my pursuit, I didn't care if I had to resort to seduction or savagery

His brow rose in anticipation, his eyes now impatiently searching mine for answers, "And you wouldn't try and convince me to attend the party?"

A cheeky smile appeared on his face, "I never said I won't."

I smiled and shook my head, "I'm late for a meeting, Azaan. I'll see you later." And then without waiting for a response I disconnected the phone, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

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Breaking the silence of the monotonous car ride back, Shanzae asked while flipping through the newspaper, "Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

I furrowed my brow at her inquiry, grateful for the sudden respite of silence. Ignoring her question, I focused my gaze out the window as our car weaved through the heart of Lahore, passing by the most affluent and developed areas of the city. The street was lined with the city's finest designer showrooms, bustling with enthusiastic shoppers and diners at the numerous restaurants and shopping malls. Shanzae neatly folded her papers and ran her fingers through her hair, her keen eyes fixed on me. When she cleared her throat and repeated her question, I couldn't help but notice the sharpness in her tone, which caught me off guard.

Finally giving in, I sighed and answered, "None that I can remember." Under her scrutiny, maintaining an indifferent face felt rather tedious.

"The Mughals have invited Aliyaar and I for a dinner party. I was wondering if—"

"If I can take care of Aly? Sure. She can stay with me." I was quick to offer.

"You seem eager." Her brows clenched together suspiciously, but then she waved off her hand. "Yaar or aunty can supervise her, I was wondering if you'd want to join us. I'm sure there will be plenty of people to meet."

I grimaced at the suggestion, but a wave of relief washed over me knowing Shanzae had no idea about Azaan, or if she did, she made no attempt to mention him. Tucking a stray strand of hair, she fixed me with a solemn stare, "You want me to show up at a corporate party uninvited?"

"They are old friends, I'm sure mom and dad have received an invitation as well." Crossing her legs, she turned towards me, insistent. "And if anyone knows how to throw a party, it is the Mughals. The entire town would be clamouring there."

"I'll prefer to sleep it off. I'm exhausted."

Shanzae looked at me with deliberation, her look a weird mix of surprise and disbelief, "You giving up on a chance to party? Are you feeling alright?"

"Pretty peachy." I puckered my lips at her. "If this is your attempt at finding me a sugar daddy, you can give up the search."

Shanzae immediately looked away, shaking her head in a mixture of amusement and disgust. "You're a strange one."

I ignored her comment and glanced at my wristwatch as the car circled the driveway of the JM headquarters. It was a little past half past one, and the sun was shining brightly. "Are you hungry? How about lunch?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Can't. Aliyaar and Aly must be waiting for me, I didn't think the meeting with the lawyers this morning would run so late."

"You can't possibly expect them to explain an estate worth billions of dollars in fifteen minutes, now can you?"

"You know I don't care for it. Any of it. Never have. Never will. But I know you do. And so does Dad. And I'll be there for you all."

"I appreciate that. But I'll head out now, I've to go through a few reports and grab something for lunch."

The sun sank low, casting long shadows across the room. My stomach grumbled, a reminder of my hunger, but my exhaustion was too great to move. A knock at the door shattered the silence, and my heart leapt at the sound. As I rose to answer, the door swung open to reveal Azaan, clad in a sharp black suit, his smile as effortless as his style.

In the half-light, his gaze found mine, dark and molten as chocolate, assessing me with a gentle precision. I couldn't hide my surprise at his sudden arrival, prompting him to explain himself.

For so long, I had believed my emotions to be under my control. Raised in a tumultuous family, peace and tranquility were foreign concepts, fleeting moments lost before I could grasp them. I had faced love, betrayal, and deceit, and emerged unscathed. But since Azaan had entered my life, it felt like control had slipped through my fingers, a thousand grains of sand scattering in every direction. It was both thrilling and frightening, this loss of power, and I knew that I was falling, inexorably, into his embrace.

I was terrified not because I had lost control, but because I wanted to lose control.

"I got us dinner." With a brown paper bag in his hand, he stepped inside, his presence filling the room with warmth and life. The clock had ticked away the hours, and the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow upon the world. As the employees had scattered for the day, I found myself alone, basking in the stillness. Even Alina had bid farewell, leaving me to my own devices. But as Azaan slipped into my office, a sense of comfort washed over me, knowing that he was here with me at this ungodly hour. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

"Can you add me to the visitors list or get me access to the executive floor? Your security is a real bitch." He asked cooly as he kept the bags on the small round dining table at the far end of my office.

"And yet you always seem to find your way up here just fine."

A conceited, overweening smirk tugged upon the corner of his lips, revealing an air of self-satisfaction that I found both unnerving and intriguing. I felt a surge of irritation rising inside me as I saw his easy grin, and yet, my heart betrayed me by skipping a beat at the sight of him. It was as if a magnetic pull had taken hold of me, drawing me towards him despite my better judgement. His eyes were alight with a playful glint, reflecting the dancing flames of the fire that crackled in the hearth nearby. The warmth of the fire seemed to seep into my bones, thawing the icy reserve that I had been holding up for so long. My cheeks burned, not just from the fire but also from the heat of his gaze that was fixed upon me, unrelenting and intense. I had to push my chair back, break the burning eye contact that was smouldering between us, and draw a deep breath to steady my nerves.

"I should have a word with my security." I mumbled and walked past him towards the chair, he moved with surprising swiftness, pulling it out for me. As I lowered myself into the seat, a heady aroma of sharp spices and smoky charcoal filled the air, enveloping me in a tantalising haze.

"Don't. I'd hate to be the reason they'd lose their job."

"They can't keep letting any and everyone in. It's a security threat."

He let out a low chuckle, dismissing my concerns with a sneering shake of his head, "I'm not any and everyone." His tone was pointed, his words slow and deliberate. And then he straightened in his seat, looking at me intently, "I'm Azaan Ali Haider Mughal."

A thrill of incinerating passion whispered down my spine, a dangerous, all-consuming desire that threatened to consume me whole. The simple words he spoke were like a lit fuse to a powder keg, igniting a fire deep within me. It was a sensation both terrifying and exhilarating, leaving me breathless and dizzy. He was a man whose confidence outweighed his arrogance, visceral and feral, his very presence commanding respect and attention. He knew exactly who he was, powerful and magnificent, a force of nature that left others in his wake. His eyes were molten gold, teeming with fire and passion, daring me to challenge him, to test the limits of his strength and will.

"Of course." I gave him a sugar laced smile. Deciding it was better to ignore his existence, I dug into the bag filled with food, "The high and mighty Mughals. You lot have your claws everywhere, don't you?"

"You won't hear me complaining." I heard him say, as I unpacked the box of grilled kebabs and BBQ. "The surname does come with its perk. Just like yours."

"Just like mine. We've both been handed down lives on a silver platter. I don't see any reason why we should ever complain. The food smells delicious."

"Since you refused to go out for dinner, I thought I'd bring dinner over. Not as intimate as I would have hoped, but it works." He looked around, appreciating the dim lights and the flickering wall sconces that added an air of idyllic cosines to the room. And if I were to ignore the dreary shelves and desk lined with files and paperwork, the ambiance would pass off as romantic.

"This is as private as it would get. But it hardly matters, it wasn't a date." I gave him a knowing smile.

"It wasn't?" The corner of his lip rose up teasingly.

"No. It wasn't. I thought we already established that."

"You." He stressed. "You established that. I made no such promises. But you're right. This is more private."

"How'd you figure I'd still be here? I don't usually stay up this late."

"I thought I'd try my luck." He replied while helping me dish out the food.

"What if I wasn't here?"

"I would have tried your home next."

"You wouldn't dare," I exclaimed, searching his face for any hint of humour, but found none. He sat there unfaltering, his gaze as steady as the unwavering strength of a lion in his lair. He didn't bother to refute my claim, but as I continued to peer at him with uncertainty, he leaned in closer, his presence almost palpable across the small table.

""I would have done so," he said, drawing near. His intense stare caused my body to feel as though it could burst into flames at any moment. He chuckled lightly and playfully tapped my nose. "You look cute when you frown," he said.

"I wasn't frowning," I retorted.

"Is that so?" A boyish smile spread across his face, and I couldn't help but return the gesture. "In any case, eat!"

"Don't tell me what to do." I chided and then dug my fork into the kebabs. "I'd fight with you, but I'm too goddamn hungry right now."

Azaan savoured the taste of the food, a small smile playing on his lips. The rest of the dinner passed by uneventfully. He inquired about my day, chided me for skipping lunch, and shared updates on the case he was working on. Throughout the night, our stolen glances and playful touches betrayed the growing intensity of our attraction.

When I reached for the bag, my eyes fell upon a delicate red rose flower nestled inside. I couldn't help but smile at the gesture, but I left it untouched. As I unpacked the slices of rich chocolate cake, I could feel his gaze fixed intently upon me, and though I tried to ignore it, I couldn't deny the way it made me feel.

Wanted.

Finally, unable to bear the heat of his stare any longer, I looked up and caught his eyes on me. A small smile played upon my lips as I remarked, "You're staring."

"I am," he replied, his gaze smouldering with desire. "I like my view."

I couldn't help but tease him, asking if he was simply trying to convince me to join him at his party. But deep down, I knew that the way he looked at me made me feel desired in a way that I had never experienced before.

He pretended to think for a while, "What do you think?" He whispered lowly.

"You're hard to read at times."

"Can't they be both?" My eyes, mere slits of suspicion, narrowed at him pointedly. "Why do you seem to have a hard time believing anything I say?"

"You're a notorious flirt. You can't blame me."

"You make it sound like it's a disease."

"Don't you make a hobby of chasing after skirts."

He coughed upon his drink, but his surprised expression quickly settled for a polite smile. "My reputation precedes me."

"Now does it?" The way his lips curled, I could not help my acknowledge how divinely perfect his mouth was. Perfectly sculpted lips, full and pink, shaped by a rough shadow of thistly stubble. His gaze swept over mine, drifting over my guarded features, perhaps reading my wayward thoughts. I felt his eyes all the way to my toes giving wind to an unsettling heat. I didn't realise we both were staring until he reached forward and pushed the plate of cake towards me. I quickly averted my gaze.

"I try to keep my affairs discreet, but clearly I've failed spectacularly." He gave me a flippant smile, but then looked at the cake. "Although you don't particularly seem to be immune to me either."

"Ha, excuse me?"

"Excused. Here allow yourself some indulgence." Whether he was referring to the cake or himself, I wasn't sure.

Changing the topic, I looked at the cake and scrunched my brows, "It's chocolate cake."

"You don't like it?"

"I only eat one ounce of dark chocolate. It's healthier." Suddenly his face turned from intrigue to a mask of pure horrid disgust. He shook his head and then reached for a glass of water, gulping it down quickly as if trying to wash down the acrid aftertaste of dark chocolate.

"Why would you subject yourself to such utter torture." His eyes were wide with horror and something akin to concern, a combination I found mildly endearing. "You make horrendously questionable choices."

"I could say the same for you."

One fine brow rose up in challenge and he sat back in his seat, draping his arms over the armrests with such majestic prowess, it seemed he could crumble everything around him to dust. He had marked his territory and claimed his throne. This man knew how to hold power, and right now merely from the way he looked at me, it almost seemed like he was the one who held all the power here.

The confidence in his stature made him seem decades wiser. The sinister smile returned, stained by a wickedness that twinkled in his eyes. And under the dim light of the lamps, the striking shape of his jaw and the regal tilt of his chin seemed even more formidable. Enticing.

Despite the inappropriateness of the thought, I felt a shiver race down my spine as if icy fingers had caressed my bare back. Another one, at the wild image of those fingers belonging to him. His gaze roved over my form and for a moment, my heart stopped when they came to settle upon my lips.

My mouth quirked and his eyes averted.

Breaking the moment, I plunged my spoon into the cake and took a bite, savouring the strong delectable flavour lingering on my tongue. The cake was too sweet for my palate, but I endeavoured to take another bite. Somewhere in the periphery of my vision, I was aware of his burning eyes on me, but I tried to ignore them, until I heard him chuckle.

His fingers intertwined with mine, and I felt a shiver run down my spine as his touch sent electricity coursing through my veins. My lips parted, allowing him to slip the spoon between them. The chocolate cake melted on my tongue, sending a cascade of flavours that I couldn't help but savour. As I savoured the taste, my eyes locked with his, and I could see a hint of mischief behind them.

"Aren't you going to eat?" He didn't respond, but I watched him raise the spoon to his lips where mine had been moments before and without breaking eye contact, he brought it to his lips, tasting the remnants of the chocolate cake that still clung to . His tongue swept across his lips with satisfying swiftness and I couldn't help but wonder what it must have felt like.

Something burnt within me and I felt a maddening heat engulf my entire being. The insufferable smirk returned with a roaring triumph.

The mischievous glint in his eyes turned into a full-blown smirk as he leaned in closer. It was as if he was daring me to push back, to give in to the searing desire that was building within me.

I tried to push back, tried to ignore the maddening heat that was threatening to consume me. But as I looked into his eyes, I knew that resistance was futile. His smirk widened as I rolled my eyes, and I settled back into my seat, feeling the heat of his gaze on my skin.

"You sure have some nerve."

"I do. And you clearly seem to enjoy it." The smug smile deepened, his face burning with satisfaction at the success of the game he was playing.

"That's a little presumptuous."

"Oh hardly."

"You're so annoying." I muttered under my breath as I got up to collect my things and leave. I heard him laugh behind me, the rustle of his footsteps close behind me. He was quick to reach for the door, backing himself against it. Noting my fingers at the handle, he stayed there for a moment longer.

"You're the most infuriating woman I've met."

Although he knew it would only goad me, his lips twisted into a wickedly irresistible smile. "You're running away."

I left the handle and crossed my arms across my chest. My heart raced as I stood in front of him, his warm breath fanning across my cheek. The gentle scent of his cologne wafted to me, making me want to lean in closer. I could see the glimmer in his eyes, almost daring me to accept his offer. But I knew better, I knew what could happen if I let him take control."Thank you for the dinner, but I need to get home."

"I'll drop you." he offered, his deep voice smooth as velvet.

"I can take care of myself." I replied, a little more firmly than before.

"I'm perfectly aware of your capabilities."

"Then let me go." I said, my heart beating a little faster at the intensity of his gaze.

"Are you scared?" he asked, his eyes piercing into mine.

"Of? You?"I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Of us. Are you scared of us, Lee lee?" He took a step towards us, closing the distance between us. I should have moved back, put some space between us, but unwilling to give him the satisfaction of his effect, I stood root to my spot. Raising my chin a notch, I struggled to keep a hard glint in my eyes, especially when he was so near, the warmth from his body seeping into my chest. His eyes, fathomless pools of chocolate, lit with amusement and a sinful smirk adorn his face as he towered over me.

His breath washed over me. His unwavering gaze clung on to me, holding me captive. My eyes sparred on with his, drinking in his artfully slicked back hair, the biting edge of his jaw that was covered with a close-cropped beard, and the deeply hooded brooding eyes which sparkled with devilish mischief.

He was unabashedly handsome.

A flicker of awareness rose up my belly, when I felt his hand brush back a strand of hair from my face. His finger-tips grazed against the side of my cheeks before fleetingly caressing the side of my neck. A pulse throbbed throughout my entire body and I would swear he felt it too

But then somewhere in the background, muffled sounds of indistinct clatter penetrated the fog of madness that seemed to have shroud us. And we both stepped away, looking a tad bit bewildered.

Quickly regaining my composure, I reached for the door. "Just drop me home." I said as I walked out. I didn't have to look to see the victorious expression plaguing his face

"Yes, ma'am." I heard him mutter from behind me.

༻✺༺

For the next three days, I didn't hear from Azaan. But every afternoon as I sat poring over the financial reports, Alina would walk in with a carefully wrapped box. One revealed a box of dark chocolates, one a pair of diamond studs and one a game of chess. Each came with a Mughal & Co Logo embossed memo note signed with just his initial A.

Despite my many attempts to reach him, he continued to ignore my calls and refused to reply to my messages. Whatever game it was he was playing, it sure as hell kept me on my toes.

The week passed away quicker than I had anticipated and it was Saturday before I realised. Shanzae had called me this morning to ask if I'd be attending the dinner party later tonight, but I still hadn't heard back from Azaan. No message. No call. No surprise visit. Not even a goddamn reminder.

Had he given up the idea or was it another trick up his sleeve, I was yet to figure out. Despite myself, my eyes kept warring to my phone, almost hoping for some sort of contact with him. The dying afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, when a knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts. Alina walked in with a smile on her face and kept a humble bouquet in front of me.

A colourful assortment of different flowers were haphazardly bunched up together. While there was nothing sophisticated about the rustic and raw arrangement, the flowers were breathtakingly beautiful. Amidst the flowers, I found an envelope carefully tucked away, hidden from plain sight.

Making a bouquet is harder than I had thought. But I hope you like it. I'll see you tonight. ;)

Azaan Ali Haider Mughal
P.S. Wear something Bordeaux

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Thoughts?

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