Yara’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as the echo of the intruder's voice reverberated through the grand hall. The wedding chamber, once filled with oppressive silence, was now charged with tension and fear. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her tears falling uncontrollably as she stared at the man who had burst into the room, gun in hand.

Dawood Haider Khan turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the figure who had disrupted the nikkah. The intruder stood in the doorway, his arm outstretched, holding a gun aimed directly at Rehan, one of Dawood’s closest men. The air crackled with danger, and Yara’s trembling intensified.

"Who the hell are you?" Dawood demanded, his voice low and menacing. He took a step forward, his eyes burning with fury as they locked onto the stranger. “How did you get in here?”

The man, a dark-haired figure with a wild intensity in his gaze, ignored the question. His face was tense, his jaw clenched with barely restrained anger. He kept his gun pointed at Rehan, his other hand twitching slightly at his side. "This wedding... it’s not happening," he growled through gritted teeth.

Yara's sobs grew louder, her hands clenching the delicate fabric of her wedding dress. She could barely process what was happening. Everything felt like a nightmare—Dawood’s cold, calculating demeanor, the gun pointed in the room, and the overwhelming fear coursing through her veins. Her vision blurred as more tears fell, her mind racing.

Dawood’s face twisted in rage. He moved swiftly, his hand slipping inside his coat. In one fluid motion, he pulled out his own gun, the metallic click echoing in the room as he aimed it directly at the intruder. Yara gasped, her heart nearly stopping as she saw the cold gleam of the weapon in Dawood’s hand.

"Answer me," Dawood snarled. "Who are you? How did you get into my estate?"

The man remained silent, his gun unwavering, his eyes flicking briefly toward Yara before returning to Dawood. The room was filled with an unbearable tension, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Yara sobbed, her chest heaving, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the confrontation.

Dawood’s patience snapped. “You think you can come into my house, interrupt my wedding, and not give me an answer?” His voice grew cold, deadly. He shifted his stance, his finger hovering over the trigger. "I’ll ask you one last time—who sent you?"

Still, the man refused to answer.

Yara’s breath hitched as Dawood’s eyes flickered with murderous intent. She had never seen him like this—so unrestrained, so dangerous. Her tears blurred her vision again as a wave of terror washed over her. Was someone going to die tonight? Was this man here to save her or to drag her further into the depths of despair?

Dawood’s frustration boiled over. He raised his gun, his voice an icy whisper. "Men, grab him and lock him in the cellar. We’ll find out what he’s doing here soon enough."

At Dawood’s command, two of his armed guards moved toward the intruder. The man tensed, his gun shaking slightly as they approached. For a moment, Yara thought he might fire. Her heart leaped into her throat, and her fingers clutched the sides of her dress in terror.

But the man didn’t shoot. Instead, he lowered his weapon slightly, allowing the guards to seize him. Dawood watched, his gun still trained on the intruder, his expression cold and calculating. As the guards dragged the man away, Dawood barked another order: “Inform Ali. He needs to know about this immediately.”

Yara’s blood ran cold at the mention of Ali’s name. She didn’t understand why, but something about this situation felt even more sinister. Her tears hadn’t stopped, and now they came faster, uncontrollable sobs racking her body. Her world was collapsing around her, and there was nothing she could do.

Dawood, however, was far from done. He turned back to Yara, his expression softening just slightly, but it did little to comfort her. “This nikkah will proceed,” he said firmly, almost as if reassuring himself. “Nothing and no one will stop this.”

Yara shook her head, trembling. She didn’t want this—none of it. But she had no choice, and that realization tore her apart from the inside. Dawood stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. He motioned for the Imam to continue, his words final.

The Imam, visibly shaken by the chaos, cleared his throat and began the recitation of the wedding vows once again. Yara barely heard the words over the sound of her own sobbing, her heart sinking deeper with every passing moment. She was powerless. Completely and utterly powerless.

Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw Dawood’s stern face, his posture stiff and unyielding. And then, it happened. The words she had dreaded.

"Do you, Yara Fayyad, accept Dawood Haider Khan as your husband?"

The words echoed in her ears like a death sentence. Yara’s body trembled violently, her lips parted, but no sound came out. She was sobbing too hard to speak. But the pressure, the weight of Dawood’s expectations, loomed over her like a dark cloud.

“Say it,” Dawood whispered harshly, his voice low but filled with authority.

With every ounce of strength she had left, Yara forced the words from her throat. “Yes…Qubool hai” she whispered, barely audible. Her heart shattered as she spoke, each syllable feeling like a nail in her coffin.

The ceremony continued. Yara’s sobs never ceased, not for a moment. Her entire body was trembling, her soul breaking under the weight of the nightmare she was living. And then, it was done.

The nikkah was complete.

Yara’s mind felt numb, like she had been buried alive. Dawood leaned in close to her, his lips brushing against her ear. “You’re mine now,” he whispered, his voice sending chills down her spine.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down, too scared to react. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her world had crumbled, and she was trapped.

Dawood straightened and turned to Safiya Ma, his expression unreadable. “Take her to my room,” he ordered. “I’ll deal with this intruder myself.”

Safiya Ma nodded, her face a mask of sorrow as she helped Yara to her feet. Yara could barely stand, her legs trembling beneath her. Her vision swam with tears, and she clung to Safiya Ma as she led her out of the room.

Dawood didn’t look back. His thoughts were elsewhere—on the man who had dared to interrupt his wedding. The man who refused to answer his questions. Dawood’s jaw clenched as he made his way to the cellar, intent on finding out who this intruder was and what he wanted.

When he reached the dark, damp room where the man had been locked up, Dawood paused. Something wasn’t right. His gut twisted with an uneasy feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

Pushing the door open, Dawood stepped inside. The man sat in a chair, his hands bound behind his back, his face twisted in defiance. He looked up as Dawood entered, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of anger and triumph.

“Why did you do it?” Dawood demanded, his voice like ice.

The man smirked. “I don’t answer to you.”

Dawood’s patience wore thin. He grabbed the man by the collar, lifting him slightly off the chair. “Who sent you?” he snarled.

The man’s smile only widened, and he leaned in, whispering, “Ask Ali. He’s the one who let me in.”

Dawood’s blood ran cold.

Ali? His best friend? His most trusted lieutenant? His right-hand man?

The revelation hit him like a punch to the gut. Dawood released the man, stepping back in shock. His mind raced, trying to process the betrayal. Ali had let this man in. Ali had ordered him to stop the wedding.

And the reason why was even more shocking—Ali was in love with Yara.

Dawood’s fists clenched at his sides as the truth sank in. His world, once so perfectly controlled, was beginning to unravel. And this betrayal was just the beginning.

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