The train rumbled forward, its wheels clanking against the tracks as the scenery blurred past the window. But Shams’s eyes weren’t on the views — they were lost in the memory of Wafa. With every second, the train drew closer to the very hell they had once escaped.

He turned slightly, glancing at his brother seated beside him.

“Planning to run off again with that girl?” Zulfiqar asked mockingly, his lips curled into a sarcastic smirk.

Shams remained quiet, his face unreadable.

“She’s my wife, Wafa. And this time, I’m not running. I’m coming to face you all,” he replied coldly, turning his head back to the window, his mind racing with thoughts.

---

★★~~~★★~~~★★~~~★★

“Wake her up!”
Jabar Malik roared, glaring at his daughter’s unconscious body on the cold floor.

“Bring a bucket of water!” he barked again, and his sons quickly obeyed.

“Saiyen, please don’t do this…” his wife cried helplessly from behind the curtain, watching her daughter in anguish.

Jabar ignored her. He stepped closer, his face twisted in fury. With a splash, the cold water hit Wafa, drenching her completely and shocking her back to consciousness.

She gasped, eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to make sense of where she was. Her body trembled, her head heavy from the drugged cloth that had knocked her out. Slowly, she looked around at the figures standing above her.

“Baba…” the word barely escaped her lips as her eyes widened in horror.

“Welcome home, beta g,” he sneered, venom dripping from every syllable.

“Why, Wafa? Why did you do this to me?” he asked, his voice dangerously low, eyes blazing with rage.

She could feel her soul tremble.

“Baba Saiyen… please… let me go,” she cried weakly.

“Let you go?” His voice cracked like a whip before he struck her — a hard slap across the face that sent her crashing to the floor.

“You brought shame to me! To this family! How could you run away with that bastard’s son?! How could you live with the blood of my enemy?!”

He grabbed her hair and yanked her up. She screamed in pain.

Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed and hiccupped, her body shaking. From behind the curtain, her mother and sisters wept silently — helpless, broken.

“How could you betray me like this?!” Another slap.

“Shams…” she whimpered.

That name was a spark.

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Jabar thundered. “Yonus! Saqib! Beat her! Beat her until she forgets his name!”

Yonus and Saqib exchanged hesitant glances, then looked at their father.

“Beat her until her lips forget how to say it!”

Wafa, barely able to sit upright, wiped the blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes burned with defiance.

“I’ll never forget his name,” she said through broken breaths. “Not him. Not my husband.”

Her voice wavered, but her words were firm.

“My Shams… he will come for me. And we’ll return to the world we built — a world of peace and love. But you… all of you… live in hate. In darkness. I don’t belong here anymore.”

Her words struck deep.

“I’ll kill him before that happens,” Jabar growled.

Wafa looked up at him, eyes steady.

“Then that will be my last day too. Because without Shams, there is no Wafa.”

Fury exploded in Jabar’s chest.

“What are you waiting for?! Beat her!”

“Saiyen, please—” came her mother’s desperate voice again.

But it was drowned in violence.

SLAP!
Saqib’s hand struck her again.

“Will you say his name now?” Yonus yelled, grabbing her hair and lifting her up.

SLAP!

“Shams…” she whispered.

“DON’T SAY HIS NAME!” Saqib screamed and hit her again, harder.

Her delicate face, the same one Shams once kissed with reverence, was now bruised and battered by her own brothers. Blow after blow, they rained down on her — trying to erase a name etched into her soul.

But with every slap, her lips bled “Shams.”

She wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

Finally—

“Enough!” Jabar Malik barked.

The brothers stepped back, panting. Jabar moved closer.

Wafa’s body was trembling, eyes fluttering, breath weak.

But still… her lips moved.

“Sh… ams…”

And then… she collapsed.

Unconscious again.

But undefeated.

Shams's POV.

"
“Wafa!”
Shams bolted upright, his breath ragged, eyes wide with panic. Sweat clung to his brow as his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

He looked around frantically, searching the unfamiliar space. She was in pain. He could feel it in every bone, every beat of his heart. Her voice echoed in his mind — calling his name, breathless and broken.

“I’m coming, Wafa,” he whispered, swinging his legs off the cot. But something stopped him. The room.

Blinking, he tried to make sense of where he was. The last thing he remembered was being on the train… but now… now he was in a dimly lit room with a single barred window letting in pale daylight. The air was damp. The cot beneath him rough and cold.

His breath caught.

“Baba Saiyen.”

He stood quickly, stumbling toward the locked door and began banging on it.

“Open the door! Let me out!” he shouted, slamming his fists against the wood.

“Saiyen, we’ve been told not to,” came a hesitant voice from the other side.

“Deen Muhammad? Is that you? Open the door! Please!”

“I’m sorry, Saiyen. Bade Saiyen has given strict orders…” the old servant’s voice trembled.

Shams punched the door again in frustration.

“There’s a pot of water in the room,” Deen Muhammad continued softly. “I left it for you. You haven’t eaten in days.”

“Days?” Shams froze. He stumbled closer to the door.

“What do you mean… days? How long have I been here?”

There was silence.

“Deen Muhammad! Answer me!” he cried, his voice desperate. “How many days has it been?”

But the servant had already walked away, leaving him alone with the ringing question and a racing mind.

He turned, clutching his throbbing head. A heavy ache had settled in his skull — a dizzying weight like something had drugged him.

“What’s happening to me?” he murmured, sitting down on the cot, trying to stay alert despite the haze closing in.

Footsteps approached again.

He looked up, breath held.

The door creaked open.

“Welcome, Shams,” came the voice that made his blood boil.

Shah Bakht entered with a smug expression, his hands clasped behind his back.

Shams stood, wobbling slightly.

“So this is how you stop me from reaching Wafa?”

“And this is just the beginning,” Shah Bakht said coldly. “You’ve humiliated me, Shams. This is the price of betrayal.”

Shams moved toward him, unsteady but defiant.

“You can scheme with Jabar Malik all you want, but hear me—” he pressed his palm to his temple, the pain worsening. “Love always wins. Not hate. You can lock me up, drug me, starve me… but you’ll never break what Wafa and I have.”

He staggered back, nearly falling.

“What if I offer you a way out?” Shah Bakht said smoothly.

Deen Muhammad stepped into the room, holding a syringe.

“Sign the divorce papers,” Shah Bakht said, his eyes gleaming, “and I’ll let you go free. No more pain. No more suffering.”

Shams let out a bitter laugh.

“You’re asking for my soul in exchange for freedom? I'd rather die.”

He didn’t fight when Deen Muhammad stepped forward with the syringe.

As the cold medicine flowed into his veins, his limbs weakened and his eyes grew heavy.

“I… want… to go… to Wafa…” he whispered, and then darkness took him.

---

Third Person POV:

Shams lay unconscious, his face pale and sunken. The once-proud man was reduced to a fragile shell by injections, isolation, and days without food.

Shah Bakht looked down at his son, emotionless. Not pity. Not regret. Only cold determination.

Deen Muhammad stood nearby, his hands trembling.

“Saiyen… he hasn’t eaten in a week. Please, if this goes on—”

“Let him wake up. Then we’ll see.”
With that, Shah Bakht turned and walked out of the basement, the door locking behind him with a heavy click.

---

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Meanwhile, in the upper part of the haveli…

“Did she eat anything?” Wafa’s mother asked in a hushed voice, tears glistening in her eyes.

“No, Amma ji. The guards won’t let us near her,” said Rakhshanda, Wafa’s cousin, just as distraught.

Alishba, Wafa’s younger sister, looked down, her eyes filled with sorrow.

“It’s been a week. And she’s so hurt… Amma ji, we have to do something.”

Wafa’s mother clenched her dupatta, broken by helplessness.

“We will. Somehow, we will.”
She looked up at her daughters, determination beginning to replace despair.

Author's Note.

Assalam-o-Alaikum, dear readers!
How are you all doing?

How did you find this chapter?
Shams is trapped, Wafa is suffering... hatred surrounds them, yet love still breathes. What do you think — how should this story end?

Should love win against all odds? Or should fate write a different ending?
I would love to hear your thoughts. What kind of ending do you imagine for Shams and Wafa?

I’ll be waiting for your beautiful comments.
And yes — please don’t forget to vote and follow.
Your support means the world to me!

Until the next chapter,
Stay safe, keep smiling, and keep reading!

Allah Hafiz.