Chapter 49

Ahmed was impatiently heading somewhere, his eyes scanning the crowd for someone. His steps wavered, missing their rhythm. And then, finally, his eyes found what they were searching for. He quickened his faltering pace.

The man he had been anxiously looking for was right in front of him, a wicked smirk plastered on his face, his expression full of malice as he reveled in Ahmed's unease and restlessness.

Ahmed's eyes sparkled like a thirsty traveler spotting a flowing stream. The thing he had been desperately longing for was in the man's hands. He surged forward in urgency, but before he could take it, a sudden blow knocked him to the ground.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in an empty room. The room was neat and clean, with a sofa set in one corner and a bed on the other side, spread over with a beautiful floral design. There was also a study table beside the bed and a bookshelf with books arranged in order.

Suddenly, he started feeling a thirst for water-and something else. Rising to his feet, his senses were still not working properly, but he somehow managed to stand. Despite finding himself captivated, he wanted to satisfy his thirst, which was making him weak and bringing him to the extreme edge of vulnerability.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. His senses gave him strange signals. With terrified eyes, his gaze was fixated on the door-the door that would soon reveal the face he feared most at the moment. The door cracked open, revealing a face he never expected to see.

"BROTHER SALAAR..." The words left his mouth, drowned in his stunned silence.
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TWO HOURS EARLIER
"No, Salaar, it is not right... I can't give permission for this," Zareena said, her voice trembling with disbelief at what Salaar had just suggested.

"Aunty, believe me, this is the only way to save him. Even if Ahmed agrees to treatment, he won't be able to control his urges at home. He could harm you emotionally and physically, and I can never let that happen. Please, Aunty, you have to trust me," Salaar pleaded, his gaze fixed on her, hoping for approval.

Zareena's heart was in turmoil. She had already lost her daughter and couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to Ahmed. Her mind raced in different directions, insecurities coiling like venomous snakes ready to strike. Then, in a split second, she made a decision, placing her faith in Salaar.

"Salaar, I don't trust you," she said, her voice firm.

Salaar's expression faltered, something breaking inside him.

"But I trust in God, who brought an angel like you into our lives. Go ahead, Salaar. I am with you." She smiled, as if God had suddenly lifted the curse upon her. She chose to entrust her children's destiny to the man who had become a beacon of hope in her dark life.

"Aunty, we still have time-almost six months until the final exams. If we can retain him for just three months, he'll be able to overcome this and even sit for his finals. I know how much you and Zarmeena hope for him to become a doctor one day. But I need to ask-has anything gone missing from your home? Money, jewelry, or anything he could sell to buy drugs? Or has he demanded a large sum of money lately? These kinds of drugs are very expensive," Salaar inquired.

"No, nothing. I don't have jewelry, and I keep my money in the bank. He hasn't demanded any money-not even for lunch or stationery like he used to before," Zareena explained.

"Alright, Aunty. I'll handle this. But I'm telling you now-Ahmed won't be coming home anymore," Salaar reminded her as he dropped her off at home.

On his way back, Salaar mulled over Ahmed's situation. If Ahmed wasn't buying the drugs himself, it meant someone else was giving them to him for free-likely demanding something in return. Salaar's mind shuddered at the possibilities, unable to fathom the price Ahmed might be paying to obtain the drugs.

Two hours later..

BROTHER SALAAR...

Ahmed called out, immensely surprised to see him instead of kidnappers. After pondering for a moment, he realized something.

"Oh! Brother, I'm glad you came to save me." He sighed in relief and quickly rose to his feet.
"Somebody kidnapped me and brought me here. Let's go, brother. They will be here soon." He stammered with fear and urgency.

"You're not going anywhere," Salaar said in a relaxed tone. He opened the front button of his coat and sat on the sofa, leaning back in a calm position.

"What? This is no time for jokes! The kidnappers can arrive here anytime," Ahmed said pleadingly, stunned at Salaar's demeanor.

"The kidnappers can't come here because..." Salaar paused before dropping the bombshell, "I kidnapped you."

"What??" Ahmed screamed, unable to comprehend the situation.
"You cannot do this," he denied, refusing to believe Salaar's statement.

"Yes, I can. If a good boy like you forgets his morals, ignores the dreams his mother and sister have for him, and gets involved in drugs and other criminal activities, I'm left with no choice but to kidnap you and bring you to your senses," Salaar said firmly, each word hammering on Ahmed's ears.

"Brother Salaar, you can't keep me here like this. It's criminal! And what will Amma and Zaro think of you?" Ahmed tried to warn him.

"Huh..." Salaar smirked.
"Did you, by any chance, ever consider what they went through when they found out about you?" Salaar asked pointedly, trying to make Ahmed realize the consequences of his actions.

"What do you mean they know about me, that I..." Ahmed faltered, unable to finish his sentence.

"Yes, they know. You're still clinging to the hope that they'd never find out. But you've been expelled from college, and your mother is in the hospital after learning about your true actions," Salaar revealed, bringing Ahmed face-to-face with reality.

"No, no, no! This can't be true," Ahmed cried, putting his hands over his ears, unable to accept the truth.
"This is all because of you, Salaar." He shifted his gaze to Salaar, glaring at him with disdain.

"Me?" Salaar responded.

"Yes, you! You're the reason for all of this. If your Dadi hadn't forced our Dadi into that marriage, everything would still be in place. Dadi would be alive, Brother Fareed would be here, and our little family would be together. But you entered our lives and ruined everything," Ahmed accused, his words dripping with resentment.

"Little brother, you cannot veil your crimes with my deeds. I married Zarmeena because I loved her. I never imagined things would turn out like this. But you-you knew the consequences of your actions. Look at what's happened. Your mother couldn't bear the weight of your deeds and is in the hospital. And Zarmeena? I'll personally tell her about this new side of yours," Salaar exclaimed in fury.

"No, please, Brother Salaar. Please don't tell her. She'll be..." Ahmed faltered again, unable to complete his sentence.

"She'll be what? Sad? Broken? Shattered? Yes, you're right-she will be. But, my little brother, you're too late. You should have thought about her pain before doing all this," Salaar said coldly, his words cutting like a knife.

"Please, please, please don't tell her. She already has too much to bear; she won't be able to tolerate this," Ahmed begged, clasping his hands together.

"I promise I won't tell her. But you will have to tell me the whole story because I saw the man who fled before giving you drugs today. Did he demanded something in return for supplying drugs to you," Salaar demanded, his suspicion deepening.

"I'll tell you everything, but please don't tell Zaro Please," Ahmed pleaded.

"Okay....Now start from the beginning. How did you get into this mess, and who is your supplier?" Salaar's threat seemed to work, and he focused intently on Ahmed, determined to uncover the truth about how such a brilliant and obedient boy had fallen so far.

After some time, Salaar left Ahmed inside and stepped out of the room, signaling the guards to lock the door.
"Sir Salaar, don't believe everything he says. Addicts can lie disguised as the truth, fooling others to get what they want," Zubair said, still not trusting Ahmed's words.
"I know this, Zubair," Salaar replied. "But I have a request. I can't entrust Ahmed to anyone else. Stay here with him and never leave his side. Treat him as you would treat me. He will go through a difficult phase while controlling his urges. During that time, I want someone near him-not just to hold him, but to love him like his own family."
Zubair nodded as Salaar finished speaking.
"Sir, you don't need to request me. I understand. Don't worry, I'll take care of him better than I take care of myself," Zubair assured him. His words brought peace to Salaar's restless mind. Salaar didn't know what the consequences would be, but at that moment, he considered it inevitable.
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Salaar entered his portion, his mind burdened with the weight of a new responsibility. Shaking his head, he tried to shed the tension gnawing at him. In search of solace, his thoughts wandered to the only source of comfort-Zarmeena.

He was headed toward the lobby, and he hoped she had already fallen asleep. The thought of gently carrying her soft, peaceful form in his arms to tuck her into bed filled him with warmth. He could almost feel the heat of her body spreading through his own. But to his surprise, she wasn't in the lobby.

Scanning the area, he moved toward the bedroom and froze. There she stood, glaring at him, her arms crossed over her waist, her foot tapping on the floor-a clear sign of her restlessness.

"Welcome, sir. Have a seat. Would you like anything? I'd be delighted to obey your every command," she said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Salaar easily picked up on her tone, surprised by her sudden confrontation. Zarmeena, who had always ignored him, was now openly arguing.

"Mr. Salaar Malik, would you please make some effort and come with me?" she demanded, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the cupboard. Salaar was too distracted by the touch and grip of her hand to focus on anything else.

She flung open her side of the cupboard, revealing her mismatched clothes hanging in disarray.

"What is this?" Zarmeena asked.

"Uh...a cupboard," Salaar replied cautiously, unsure of her mental state.

"And whose clothes are hanging here?" she pressed, holding the cupboard door open.

"Yours."

"Okay. And what is this?"

"A study table," Salaar answered, his unease growing as he sensed the futility of the conversation.

"Do these books belong to you?"

"No."

"Then to whom?"

"You," he replied hesitantly.

Zarmeena clapped her hands in mock celebration.

"Alright. What is this?" she asked again.

"A bed...your bed," Salaar answered before she could ask.

"Now, tell me-what's the point of showing all this to you?" Zarmeena asked, her tone sharp.

"Showing your belongings to me," Salaar responded, still confused.

"No, you idiot Malik, it's to remind you that this room doesn't belong to you alone. I am also its owner. We are sharing this space, and you cannot come and go as you please, violating the rules of shared living," Zarmeena declared, her voice filled with authority.

"So?" Salaar still didn't fully understand her point.

"So, you are not allowed to come in and go out after sunset. Understand?" Zarmeena said, her voice stern.

Salaar nodded, amused by her sense of ownership and her nagging, which reminded him of a typical wife. Deciding not to argue, he climbed into his bed, too tired to change into night clothes.

But the moment he lay down, he jolted back up.

"What the heck is this? My bed is soaking wet!"

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to mention," Zarmeena said, turning over in her bed with a smirk. "If you come late, I'll make sure your bed gets showered like this. And, oh, sorry again-this rule starts from today."

She closed her eyes, silently congratulating herself on avenging Salaar for the photo in which Leena was clinging to him.

Salaar tapped his foot in frustration, muttering under his breath. With no other option, he headed toward the guest room. Even Zubair wasn't around to help him tonight.