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Rehman POV

"Please, baby, please. Do not cry like this. It's hurting me," I tried to say as she hurried to walk away from me.

My heart was sinking low with each tear she was shedding, flowering my heart's grave just beneath her tingling footsteps.

"Rehana," my voice came out hoarse as I quickly followed behind her. My hand curled around her slim arm and pulled her towards me. Her feet stumbled over mine before our chests crushed each other, and my gaze landed right on her tear-glistened cheeks.

"Please, tell me," I demanded, noticing the heaviness in her uneven breathes.

Sobbing heavily, she tried to pull her hand through my hand's grip, and I could not stop wrapping my hand around her tiny waist. Her eyes enlarged, staring at my face with shock.

"Please," I almost whispered. My patience and calm were hanging by a thread. I did not like someone being bothered by me, especially when I did not know the exact reason.

"You... do not love me," her voice shook. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my infuriating nerves.

She struggled to get rid of my hold.

"Kyu sochti hai aapse?"

"Why do you even think like that?" I asked, tightening my hold around her, trying to calm her shaky breaths and remind her that she was my wife—the Mallika of this Sultanate. Every inch of my body was evidence of that. Ever since she had come into my life, half of my every breath belonged to her. I had changed for her. I could not even recognize myself after getting married to her.

She sobbed, and I stepped ahead, pushing her back into the bed's pole.

"Hum sirf sochte nahi hai. Hume pata hai hamare baare me aapke kya khayalaat hai,"

"I do not only think. I know what you think about me," she said, crying even more and pressing her hands against my chest, trying to push me away.

I immediately stepped an inch closer, crushing her protest to rest. She gulped, shaking her head.

"Hamare khayalat hamare bina bataye aap tak pohuchaa kon raha hai?"

"Who the hell is telling you about my thoughts without me ever conveying them?" I asked, losing my senses. I had been trying hard since morning to find out what was wrong with her. And all she was doing was pushing me away.

"Bache hai hum?"

"Am I a Kid?" she asked, sobbing even more, and I clenched my jaw, leaving her arm and cupping her cheek to pull her gaze up at me.

"Ji hn, bilkul hai. Subah se Ro rahi hai befaltu ki cheejo ke baare me soch kar. Biwi hai aap hamari Rehana. Koi or aurat nahi hai hamari jindagi me. Hamari subah par, sham par, raat par, sab par aapka haq hai. Begum hai aap hamari, hamari har cheej par haq hai aapka. Kyu pareshaan hai aap? Jaan hai aap hamari, or aapse aansu se jaan nikal rahi hai hamari,"

"Yes, absolutely. You have been crying since morning, thinking about unnecessary things. You are my wife, Rehana. There is no other woman in my life. You have rights over my morning, evening, night, everything. You are my Begum; you have rights over everything of mine. Why are you troubled? You are my Jaan, and your tears are tearing me apart," I tried to say, unable to keep my words in the confines. My mind was maddening, staring at her silently screaming tears.

I wanted to know what was bothering her. I wanted to know what the hell she was thinking about that was making her cry like this.

"Befaltu ki baatein? Khooni hai aap,"

"Unnecessary things? You are a murderer," she said, and I inhaled deeply, staring intensely into her eyes. This was bothering her so much? If killing to save my people would make me a murderer in her eyes, that I was.

She had to see it from my perspective.

"So?" I asked, unable to explain to her. Because she clearly did not digest the fact that her Jaan-e-Jahan had come out to be a Sultan.

"So? You feel good while killing people," she said, increasing the pressure in her tiny fist against my chest, and I could not help but gaze at how flushed her face looked while crying. Her lips had swollen, her cheeks turned red and fluffy, and her wet eyelashes looked absolutely beautiful under the dim candlelights.

I could die kissing her.

"No, Bache, I feel good killing enemies. I protect people," I replied in a low voice, and she shook her head.

And, the way her breath hitched as I leaned in closer to her lips, my hand tightened even more around her waist. My palm pressed against the side of her hips.

"Jaan-e-Jahan," she cried out in a low voice, understanding my intentions, and I demanded.

"Stop crying, Rehana,"

She inhaled sharply and fluttered her tense, dizzy gaze between my lips and predatory eyes. Her face glowed like gold under the light lamp, casting its rays from the bed's side table.

She shook her head slowly. Another heavy tear rolled down her cheek, and I just couldn't stop myself from closing my eyes, leaning into her cheek, and kissing the salt off she was wasting over useless things.

Her shiver followed after she angled her face slightly back.

"Tell me what's bothering you. I swear, I will answer all of your questions," I whispered, kissing her cheek down her shoulder. Her hands fisted over my chest. She began to lose her senses as my lips began to caress and worship her exposed skin.

With each of my kisses, her breath would grow heavier, intensifying my desire for her.

Her hold loosened as I gave up my control over the mild fragrance she was wearing with her sweet bodily smell. I felt the movement in her neck as she gulped thirstily.

A teardrop fell against my cheek, and I gently pulled my face up to look into her innocent, pure-hearted eyes.

"Why are you crying baby?" I asked, gently moving my thumb across her lower lip.

"What do you want to do with me?" she asked, looking into my eyes. Her face was angled back, staring deep into my eyes. Her gaze wandered around to pierce my soul, wound my heart, and make me bleed for her.

I would.

I definitely would someday if she would not stop overthinking negatively about us.

"Everything. You tell me, what should I do with you?" I asked, wondering to know what was going on in her head. It seemed like she was not just worried about me not confessing my love but something else, too.

She gulped, inhaling unevenly and deeply.

"Kill me?" her soft whisper brought a weak smile to my face. The questioning expressions lingering on her face made me lean in closer and peck her lips softly.

"Is that what you think of my intentions for you?" I asked, pulling back slowly, and she gulped frightenedly.

"Why me? You could have married anyone. And, even if it was for guilt, why not marry someone else for love?" her words wounded my heart. What the hell was she thinking of me? Did I look like someone who would be hurting a woman by bringing another one into life and complicating everyone's life?

"Yes, I could have married anyone. So, I married you," I stated, caressing her lower lip. She blinked heavily as I leaned in closer and kissed the side of her lips.

How could I tell her what kind of love I had for her?

I could not even explain it to myself, let alone her or anyone.

"You want to kill my family?" she asked in a low voice, and I inhaled deeply, staring into her sapphire-wet eyes.

"Who is your family?" I asked, wondering who she was talking about.

She blinked nervously.

"My stepmother?" she asked hesitantly, and I knit my brows with anger just at the mention of her.

"She sold you to a brothel, Rehana. And, yes, if she ever shows her face to me, I will definitely kill her," my words brought the tint of fear on her face. She shook her head terribly slowly.

"And, my father?" the moment those words escaped her lips, I leaned in closer and pressed my forehead against hers. She breathed shakily.

"Do not go to war, please," she whispered, and I gulped, pulling back.

More tears rolled down her cheeks.

"It's not him. I swear. Please do not do anything," she said, and I caressed his chin. I knew who he was and what he had done. But, I was not sure if she knew who sent dacoits for her.

"You met him? He..." I paused, finding the right words to explain how bad his intentions were. He tried to kill me more than five times. He was a disgusting man. She shook her head slowly.

"He left you, Rehana," I tried to explain how bad his company was for her. She should not have met him.

"He would have reasons," she said, and my jaw tightened with anger.

"Seriously. You are justifying why you ended up in the brothel in the first place?" I asked, unable to digest if she knew what she was thinking.

"I ended up in the brothel because your father chose the violence over my family," she said, and I closed my eyes, looking away.

"Seriously?" I asked, and she immediately pushed me away.

"So, you are after my father," she stated, and I stepped closer to her.

She immediately walked past me, and before I could catch her, she ran away.

"Rehana," I called her out, walking after her.

Reaching closer to the door, she hustled to open the lock, but before she could, I held her hand and turned her around to make her look at me.

"Rehana," I called again, grabbing her by her waist.

"Trust me, Bache, I will never let anything wrong happen to you," I said in a low and convincing voice, but she shook her head, breaking into cries.

"Why are you going to the war? Please, do not go to the war, or you will do something wrong to me," she said, and I shook my head.

"It is necessary to treat the people right. No one can dare to lift their eyes to my wife. And, the lesson should be taught to them," I said, and she pushed me away, walking past me, stepping down the stairs, and looking back at me.

"Why? Nothing happened to me," she said, and I immediately stepped down the stairs and cupped her cheeks.

"Should I wait for something to happen to you and regret it my whole life? Do I look that stupid to you?" I asked and clicked her tongue with frustration.

"He must have reasons," she said, looking at me, letting more tears roll down her cheeks.

"No reason could justify whatever they did," I said, and she looked away from me and palmed her face.

"Rehana, try and understand. Not everything that has sugared layering is sweet," I tried to say, and she shook her head.

"What if something happens to you?" she asked all of a sudden, turning around and looking at me.

"Nothing will happen to me," I said. She walked towards me and fisted her hands on my chest.

"Please, I beg of you. Please just forget everything and leave it behind. I just want your love, nothing else," she said, and I did not know how to explain that securing her was one of a letter in my love language.

"I cannot," I shook my head slowly, and she sighed deeply before walking away from there and lying down on the bed, covering her face with the comforters.

"I hate you so much," she yelled from inside. Her voice came out muffled, and I inhaled deeply.

"Hate me as much as you want, but I am not leaving until they pay for their deeds," I could not stop myself.

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