Inarah's POV,
I found myself pacing impatiently at the entrance, my anticipation growing with each passing moment. Zayaan had chosen to extend his stay by two more days, and my heart longed for his return. As I waited, I adorned myself in a pristine white chiffon saree, draping it with care as if I were preparing for a joyous festival to welcome him back home.

My heart raced with joy as I caught sight of him stepping out of the car. Our eyes locked, and a rush of warmth flooded my cheeks, accompanied by an involuntary smile. I couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through his mind in that moment.

With his gaze never leaving mine, he approached me, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Oh, how I had longed for this moment! Before he could cross the threshold, my heart propelled me into action. Without a second thought, I closed the distance between us in a run, my arms wrapping around him tightly. His presence enveloped me, and I could feel his heartbeat, his warmth, his scent—everything that made him uniquely him. My love!

"Oh, Zayaan, welcome back, my love!" I breathed, holding him even tighter. He returned the embrace, his warmth seeping into me, and a soft hiss escaped him, causing me to immediately release him, my concern etched on my face.

"What's wrong, hubby? Is your wound still bothering you?" My worry was palpable in my voice as I searched his eyes for any sign of pain or discomfort.

He shook his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "It's nothing, just jet lag," he explained, attempting to downplay any discomfort he might be feeling.

I frowned, unconvinced by his explanation.

At that moment, Rajiv entered the scene, and I gasped as my eyes fell on his bruised face. It was clear that something had transpired during their absence. My gaze shifted to Zayaan, and my concern deepened as I noticed a scar above his right eyebrow and a fading bruise at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh God, what happened to your face, Rajiv? And Zayaan, too?" I instinctively reached out to touch Zayaan's face, but he gently stopped my hand, a protective gesture that spoke volumes.

"Don't worry, it was just a minor scuffle. We're both fine," Zayaan reassured me, his grip on my hand offering a reassuring squeeze. He turned his attention to Rajiv.

"Go home and rest," Zayaan advised, patting Rajiv's back. Their eyes exchanged unspoken messages, a bond forged through shared experiences.

"Ji, bhai," Rajiv acknowledged with a nod in my direction before departing. It was clear that he had a family waiting for him, and I understood the importance of his presence at home.

As Rajiv left, a sense of mystery hung in the air. I couldn't help but wonder about the events that had unfolded in their absence. What had led to the scuffle, and why did both Zayaan and Rajiv bear the marks of a confrontation? My heart ached with a mixture of worry and curiosity, yearning to unravel the enigma that had played out during their time away.

Zayaan's POV,
"It seems we'll have to cancel our flight for today, Rajiv," I remarked, my tone laced with a hint of annoyance as I tore off my tie. I surveyed the scene before me, taking in the presence of the individuals who had seemingly converged upon us.

"Sucks. Liked this suit," Rajiv replied, casually tossing his coat aside.

Tension filled the air as we faced off with the encircling group. Sleeves rolled up, a quick glance with Rajiv said it all.

Outnumbered but never outgunned, we braced for the clash. Inarah's promise echoed in my mind—no more secrets.

The brawl ignited, and I stood firm, ready to unravel the mystery behind this confrontation.

Weaponless and cornered on the 11th floor with no walls to shield us.

Amidst the chaos, those bastards charged us like bulls on a rampage, making the 11th-floor corridor feel like a damn battlefield. And guess what? We were bare-handed, up against a bunch of goons armed to the teeth. Real smart move, right?

Inarah's voice echoed in my head, her words a mix of worry and love. "Promise me, Zayaan... you won't leave me alone, alright?" God, that woman had a way of getting under my skin. A promise I intended to keep, for her sake and mine.

I dodged a sickle swinging at my neck, the adrenaline pumping hard. It was a deadly dance – sidestepping, blocking, and striking. I used one goon's own weapon against him, the sickle slicing through the air as he stumbled. A swift kick sent him crashing down, his groans blending with the chaos.

Rajiv backed me up, his moves as smooth as ever. He took down a sneaky bastard trying to catch me off guard. We had a rhythm, a silent understanding built through years of partnership.

But man, were we getting tired. My gunshot wound throbbed with every move, but I couldn't back down. The enemy kept coming, like roaches you couldn't stomp out. And just when I thought things couldn't get worse, snipers joined the party, bullets zipping past us.

Breaths came in ragged bursts, the scene a symphony of clashes and curses. In those intense moments, I fought like hell to keep my promise – to make it back in one piece. For Inarah, who waited with open arms, and for myself, because I wasn't going down without a fight.

Steel met steel, gunfire echoed, and sheer determination kept us standing, facing an enigma of a fight that seemed relentless.

Shit!

Seemed like we had no other damn choice. So, we charged straight at them, using their sorry asses as shields against the hail of bullets. Bodies turned deadweight in our grip as we used them as makeshift barriers, the gunfire painting a gruesome picture.

After what felt like a lifetime, the shots finally stopped. We shoved the lifeless bodies away, and they dropped to the floor with a sickening thud.

"Why the hell are these idiots offing each other?" one of our captors yelled in bewildered frustration, his gaze fixed on the snipers in disbelief.

A smirk tugged at my lips. Oh, the sweet taste of revenge.

But before long, the floor erupted in a storm of chaos once more. Gunshots echoed, screams pierced the air, and the scent of blood hung heavy. Amid the frenzy, a voice boomed, claiming our territory.

"This is our turf, you motherfuckers!"

Stepping back, I caught my breath, wiped a smear of blood from my lip with my sleeve, and straightened my shirt. A nod from Rajiv and a chuckle escaped my lips. We had an upper hand now.

As the local gangs swarmed the scene, bullets rained down, and Murthy's men fell like dominoes. My ribs throbbed, my legs felt like jelly, but the rush of victory fueled me. I approached Rajiv, my own condition no better than his. His arm was a bloody mess, his face battered and swollen. Yet, he sat against the wall, the epitome of resilience.

I extended my arm, a silent invitation. A smirk danced on his lips as he grabbed my hand, and with my support, he rose to his feet.

"You good, bhai?" Rajiv's voice was laced with genuine concern.

I chuckled, slapping his back. "Ask yourself that."

Across the chaos, the gang leader gave me a playful salute, and I returned the gesture with a cheeky wink. Turning on my heel, Rajiv leaning on me, we made our way out of the mayhem we'd orchestrated. Those gang boys were busy admiring their newfound weapons, their leader offering me a salute that I playfully reciprocated. With a wink and a grin, I took my leave, helping Rajiv, my trusted companion, as we exited, leaving chaos and a message of dominance in our wake.

****
"Zayaan! Guess what surprise I have for you?" Inarah's excited voice reached me from behind the bathroom door as I stood under the shower's stream.

I grabbed the shampoo, my curiosity piqued. "What?" I called back.

"I cooked dinner!" Her giggles danced through the door.

I almost dropped the shampoo bottle in disbelief. Cooked dinner? Inarah? I quickly rinsed my hair, my mind struggling to process this revelation. I wrapped a towel around my waist and swung open the door, unable to contain my shock.

"And you know..." Inarah's voice trailed off as her gasp echoed through the room. Her eyes widened, and she stared at me, her lips slightly parted.

"Did you seriously... cook something yourself?!" I blurted out, my disbelief evident in my tone.

"Y-yes!" Inarah stammered, her gaze drifting down my form, her chest rising and falling rapidly. My own realization dawned on me – I was in nothing but a towel, water dripping from my wet hair.

Her face flushed a deeper shade of red as her gaze remained fixed on me. I decided to have a little fun, so I opened the door a bit wider, giving her an unabashed view. Her reaction was priceless – a gulp, a nervous hand through her hair, and a fluttering of her pallu. My smirk deepened. Turnabout was fair play, after all. She always managed to leave me breathless; now it was my turn to return the favor.

"What did you make?" I inquired, amusement lacing my voice, while I moved my fingers through my damp hair, pushing it away from my eyes.

Inarah moaned softly, and I couldn't help but grin. This little game was fun. I leaned against the door frame, flexing my biceps slightly, watching her reaction. She was flustered, her breath catching.

"Z...Zayaan... God... you..." She breathed out, her voice a mixture of awe and desire.

"Hm?" I responded, biting my lip to suppress a chuckle, enjoying her flustered state.

Without wasting a moment, she turned away, her fingers fumbling with her pallu. She stammered, "G... get ready and come out quickly. I... I'll set the table." With that, she practically fled the room.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head in amusement at her adorable antics. My darling wife never failed to surprise me – and this time, it was with her endearing reaction to a little game of seduction.
****
Inarah's POV,
I dashed straight to the kitchen, patting my racing heart in an attempt to calm it down. This man! Seriously... he's just so incredibly attractive! It should be against the law. I nearly had a heart attack! His chiseled abs, those flexing muscles, the definition of his hard pecs... and the water cascading down his golden torso... Oh my God!

"Madam? Is everything alright? Are you feeling unwell? Your face is flushed." The maid's concerned voice snapped me back to reality.

"Huh?" I instinctively touched my hot cheeks.

"Um... I'm okay. Please start serving the food," I mumbled, my embarrassment evident.

"Of course, madam."

****

"Alright! Bhabhi's handmade food! Are we lucky or what?!" Uddhav exclaimed, rubbing his hands together excitedly as everyone gathered around the dining table.

"Wahh! Getting to indulge in the culinary creation of the blessed hands of my goddess herself..." Raghav chimed in dreamily.

"You guys..." I giggled, feeling a mixture of nervousness and pride.

"The richest girl in Asia gracing us with her cooking skills! This moment deserves a mention in the Guinness World Record!" Asad joked, earning a round of laughter.

"I bet it's going to be the most delectable dish in the world. Right, bhai?" Wafeeq grinned, turning his attention to Zayaan. I blushed, waiting for his reaction.

Zayaan simply nodded with a nonchalant expression, which only made me blush even more.

"Aww, look at Bhabhi blushing like a tomato."

"Yeah, she's been tirelessly working since early morning, like a whirlwind, preparing this special dinner for her husband." Asad playfully nudged Zayaan from the other side.

The maid emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray laden with chicken biryani and raita. As she approached to serve Zayaan, I quickly stood up.

"It's alright, I'll serve him. Please go ahead and start with the others," I said cheerfully, eager to personally serve Zayaan.

"Oh... Of course, Madam." The maid smiled, clearly amused by my enthusiasm.

My heart raced as I carefully served Zayaan's portion. When I glanced up at him through lowered lashes, I caught him gazing at me. Oh my!

"Smells absolutely heavenly!" The twins exclaimed in unison, which was quite a surprise.

Anticipation built up as I waited for everyone's reactions, my eyes shifting from one person to another as they took their first bites.

One by one, their expressions changed, but not in the way I had hoped.

The twins were the first to discreetly spit out their food into tissues, their simultaneous expressions of disgust disheartening me.

"Ugh! Nasty!" they both exclaimed simultaneously, a synchronized reaction as always.

Looking around the table, I saw similar looks of disappointment on everyone's faces.

"Is this... supposed to be biryani?" Asad questioned, his confusion evident as he tried not to offend me.

With sinking spirits, everyone gradually set down their spoons, leaving me with a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"It's alright, I'm not that hungry!" Uddhav commented, attempting to console me, though the lump in my throat remained.

Damnit, even now it's horrible? Mom said second attempt would be successful.

"At least the raita is good... um... yum!" Raghav commented, his spoon diving into the raita bowl repeatedly.

I mustered a faint smile and replied, "The... maid prepared it."

"Oh... uh... I see," Raghav responded, clearly realizing the difference.

My grip tightened on the edge of my saree, desperately trying to hold back my tears. I hung my head, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially Zayaan.

"Tina, Meena, get out of here. All of you too. Now!" Zayaan's voice boomed with authority, commanding the room to empty. The sound of chairs scraping and footsteps exiting the dining room filled the air, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my disappointment.

As tears began to well up in my eyes, I bit my lip to stifle a whimper. "I... I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice trembling.

Suddenly, I felt Zayaan's warm hand beneath my chin, gently tilting it upward. I met his gaze, noticing the tension in his clenched jaw. His eyes held a mixture of emotions I couldn't quite decipher.

"Don't show your tears to anyone else. Don't reveal your vulnerability to them. Only I am allowed to witness that," he said in a low, almost protective tone.

His words caught me off guard, and I blinked, processing their significance.

With that, he released his grip and turned away, walking back into the house, leaving me standing there, perplexed yet strangely reassured.

****
Zayaan's POV,

It was well past midnight when I entered the kitchen. The sight of my angel's tear-stained face haunted me. Those idiots had made her cry, and I was determined to teach them a lesson. Sending them on overnight patrolling seemed like a fitting punishment.

My Inarah... my Jaan, had cooked something with her own hands
just for me. I couldn't believe my luck. It was a moment of sheer happiness. Her delicate hands bore slight burns and bandages from the ordeal, all for me. My angel had gone through so much trouble for my sake.

As I opened the fridge and retrieved the leftover biryani, my heart swelled with affection. She had made this for me!

Admittedly, it didn't taste like the biryani I was used to, but for me, it was the most delectable dish in the world. It carried my Jaan's love for me. I sat on the countertop, savoring each bite with a contented smile.

Inarah's POV,
I entered the kitchen, seeking an ice pack for my swollen eyes after my quiet sobbing. Zayaan wasn't by my side, probably engrossed in a phone call. However, what I found was much more endearing – Zayaan sitting on the countertop, his mouth full of the biryani I had cooked, frozen in surprise like a child caught in the act.

His embarrassment was evident as he cleared his throat and sheepishly set down the spoon and casserole, stepping down from the countertop.

"I... uh... I was just hungry," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

My laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. He looked adorably comical in that moment, and I couldn't help but find it utterly charming.

Finally regaining my composure, I wiped my tears and approached the freezer to retrieve the ice pack. "There was maggi in the drawer," I said, my voice still laced with laughter.

"I wasn't in the mood to cook," he replied casually.

Picking up the casserole, I urged him, "At least don't eat this terrible thing. It could upset your stomach. I don't want to trouble your heart... or your life." My words were tinged with a mix of emotions, and the ache in my heart was palpable. As I moved to discard the biryani, he quickly snatched it from my hand, surprising me.

"Don't waste food. I hate it when people do that. I'll eat it," he stated matter-of-factly.

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. He was willing to eat it, despite its awful taste. It warmed my heart and made me so happy.

"Alright, but let me heat it up first. It's ice-cold," I insisted, and he nodded in agreement.

After warming the casserole in the microwave, I watched him with a soft smile. Sometimes, his actions made me believe that there might be something more in his heart for me. Even if it was just a glimmer of hope, it filled me with immense joy.

"You know, I was really scared when everyone disliked the biryani. I felt like a terrible wife who couldn't even cook a decent meal for her husband. But I'm relieved now that you're eating it, even though it's terrible," I chuckled.

As I placed the reheated casserole in front of him, he settled on a stool. Just as he was about to take a bite...

Zayaan's POV,
I remained still, utterly surprised, as she planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. Her words washed over me, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth and affection.

"Thank you so much, my love, and I promise to do my best to become a good wife and serve you delicious food in the future," she vowed, her smile adorned with her charming dimples.

Oh, Inarah, you're already the best, my angel.

"Make sure not to overeat and upset your stomach. I love you... goodnight!" With those words, she danced back towards our room.

I couldn't help but smile.

I love you too, my Jaan.

And with that, I returned to savoring the biryani she had made, each bite a testament to her efforts and love.

****
Asad's POV,
I entered the scene, accompanied by four of my companions, exuding an air of confidence. I exchanged flirty smiles and playful winks with the attractive women who couldn't resist eyeing me. After all, I had a reputation to uphold as a charmer – an expert in the art of seduction.

There she was, the subject of my search, defying my expectations by indulging in a night of revelry at a nightclub. It seemed she had a tendency to overestimate her influence and rely on her father's power more than she should. Such foolishness.

I felt a mix of anger and disgust as I walked into that private room. I had thought that she'd be long gone, fleeing in panic after our last encounter. But here she was, partying like nothing had happened, surrounded by her debauched entourage.

Leela was lost in a passionate embrace with some guy, her lips locked in a sloppy kiss. Her friends were no better, lost in a haze of drugs and sinful pleasures. My patience was running thin.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," I announced with a sardonic grin. The room erupted into chaos as everyone panicked. Her bodyguards tried to react, but my crew was faster and more precise. Within moments, we had taken down all five of them, leaving their lifeless bodies scattered across the room, a stark contrast to the wild party that had been in full swing just moments ago.

As the other partygoers fled in terror, Leela remained, seemingly unfazed by the bloodshed. She reclined on the sofa, lazily indulging in a packet of cocaine. Her carefree demeanor irked me.

"So... enjoying a good make-out session and indulging in drugs with a politician's son? I'm impressed!" I smirked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

Her gaze met mine, a mixture of annoyance and nonchalance. "How boring."

The room was a chaotic scene of destruction, a testament to the recklessness that had unfolded within its walls. And in the midst of it all, Leela sat – a portrait of audacious indifference in the face of danger.

Leela groaned in her intoxicated state, her voice hazy as she spoke, "I was going to fuck him, you scoundrel. Why did you interfere?"

One of my boys chimed in, astonishment lacing his voice, "Your bodyguards are all dead and you're completely at our mercy. Yet you aren't scared?"

Leela looked at him and chuckled, her gaze unfocused and distant. "I've seen worse... I've done worse."

I couldn't help but smirk, leaning against the doorway. "That's why I like you, hotness," I said casually, swinging my gun nonchalantly.

She staggered toward me, her movements unsteady and her eyes heavy with intoxication. Her silver sequin dress exposed more than it covered, and her attempt at seduction was hard to ignore. "Maybe you could entertain me," she purred, tracing her finger over my chest provocatively. "You so harshly left me back there that night after turning me on for you...so make up for it right now...and I won't kill you."

I let out a chuckle and slipped my hand into her hair, only to yank it back abruptly. "You think I'm here to fuck a whore like you? No thanks. You can satisfy your needs elsewhere."

Undeterred, Leela shifted her approach, her voice dripping with allure, "I can help you, you know. You and me... we can join forces and take Zayaan down. You can be the new King of Mumbai."

I arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "And what can you offer for that?"

"For now... my body and then... whatever you want. Leela Surya Murthy can do anything to get power," she purred, grinding herself against me.

I chuckled softly, pushing her back onto the couch. "You're a bad girl, aren't you?"

Her gaze turned hungry as she licked her lips, her invitation clear. "Want a taste of how bad I can be?"

I rolled my eyes, my amusement plain. "Who are these guys with you? Haven't seen them around."

"They're my squad."

"Ah, raising your own army now? Tired of being Zayaan's lackey?"

Leela took another step forward, wrapping her arms around my neck, her voice dripping with seduction. "I can help you, you know. You and me together... we could be unstoppable. Power, money, fame... everything you desire."

I smirked, moving the barrel of my gun against her cheek. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea. But let's get one thing straight, Leela. I'm not interested in your body or your empty promises. You're just a pawn in a much bigger game."

Her expression wavered between frustration and desire, her need for power clear in her eyes. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you're wrong. Only one way to find out."

I leaned in, our faces inches apart.
Her eyes narrowed, the realization dawning on her that her plans were futile. "You underestimate me."

I smirked boring my eyes into hers.
What a vixen!

Placing the gun, I dug the barrel deep inside the cushion right beside the head... pulling the trigger, she flinched probably getting sober enough soon spitting profanities at me.

I laughed.
"Aren't you excited? Wasn't that thrilling?" I cooed.

She grimaced at me trying to stop her shuddering.

Standing up, I pointed the gun over her forehead as her whole body tensed.
"If you really wanted to join forces...you really shouldn't have dared to mess with Asad Abbas in the first place. You helped our enemy and dared to hurt my bro and his wife. Now that isn't very good, isn't it sweetheart?" I whispered garing into her eyes. My voice laced with threat.
I shoot on the couch above her head again as she screamed covering her ears.

"And I don't like scums who mess with my people. I don't let them off easy...or alive."
I shot twice again beside her as she screamed and shuddered cursing at me.

Everyone's afraid of death and the one's that claim to control it, are the one's who are afraid of it the most. She's Surya Murthy's daughter so I can't just kill her and end it at once. It will start a bloody gruesome war.

"This is my first and final warning to you. Stay away from Inarah....and as for being the king..."
I smirked.
"... I have my own plans for that."

I winked and took off with my boys.

"You won't get away with this..." She screeched behind me like a wounded kitten.

"We'll see!"