beyond the vows

chapter 4

Zaviyar sat in the stark white hospital room, the beeping of the monitors the only sound filling the silence. Zaroon lay unconscious on the bed, his forehead wrapped in bandages, his arm in a sling. His face was paler than usual, a stark contrast to his usual vibrant energy.

Zaviyar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his light brown eyes locked onto his younger brother. He had been here for hours, watching over him, his mind replaying the call over and over again.

An accident.

A heavy bike crashing into him.

Zaroon unconscious on the pavement.

His jaw tightened. “You reckless i***t,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

A groggy voice broke the silence. “That’s not a very nice way to greet me.”

Zaviyar’s head snapped up as Zaroon blinked sluggishly, his black eyes meeting his brother’s. Relief crashed into Zaviyar, but he masked it with a stern look.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.” Zaroon winced. “Or, in this case, a bike.”

Zaviyar exhaled through his nose, his anger barely restrained. “What the hell were you thinking? Bunking college and roaming around without telling me?”

Zaroon groaned. “Not now, Bhai. My head is literally pounding.”

Zaviyar clenched his fists. “Good. Maybe next time, you’ll use it before pulling a stunt like this.”

Zaroon turned his head slightly, his voice quieter. “Are you… really that mad?”

Zaviyar’s fingers loosened. He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m mad because I could have lost you, Zaroon.”

Zaroon swallowed. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Zaviyar’s voice hardened. “It is a big deal. You’re all I have left.”

The weight of those words hung in the air between them. Zaroon lowered his gaze, guilt flickering across his features. “I’m sorry, Bhai.”

Zaviyar leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “You better be.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. Zaviyar looked up as Haroon Malik and Javad Mirza walked in.

Haroon, in his doctor’s coat, immediately moved to check Zaroon’s vitals. “Well, at least you’re awake.”

Zaroon groaned. “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

Javad smirked. “He’s not disappointed. He just wanted to scold you first.”

Haroon scoffed. “Zaviyar already handled that.”

Zaviyar shot them both a look. “I’m still handling it.”

Javad chuckled before turning to Zaroon. “Seriously, kid. Try not to give your brother a heart attack.”

Zaroon sighed. “I get it. No more reckless bunking.”

Haroon crossed his arms. “You’re staying here overnight for observation. If all goes well, you can go home tomorrow.”

Zaviyar nodded. “I’m taking leave from work until he’s fully recovered.”

Javad arched a brow. “You? Taking leave?”

Haroon smirked. “That’s a first.”

Zaviyar ignored them. “Musfira will handle the client presentation in my absence.”

Javad’s eyes flickered with interest. “Musfira?”

“She’s the best option available,” Zaviyar said simply.

Javad exchanged a look with Haroon but didn’t comment. Instead, he patted Zaroon’s shoulder. “Rest up, kid. You gave us all a scare.”

Zaroon nodded, exhaustion settling back in. Zaviyar leaned back in his chair as Haroon and Javad stayed a little longer, their presence making the air feel lighter.

But beneath it all, Zaviyar’s mind remained tangled with one thought—he had almost lost his brother.

And he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

Afternoon at Shah Enterprises: Musfira’s Responsibility

Musfira stood in the conference room of Shah Enterprises, her hands steady as she placed the final set of designs on the table. The clients, a group of three men, studied them intently.

Normally, this would have been Zaviyar’s responsibility, but with him at the hospital, it had fallen to her. And she wasn’t about to let him down.

One of the clients, a man in his mid-40s, looked up. “These are impressive.”

Musfira smiled. “Every detail is designed to align with your brand’s aesthetic.”

Another client nodded. “I can see why Mr. Shah trusted you with this.”

Musfira kept her expression professional, but inside, she felt a surge of pride. Zaviyar had trusted her to handle this, and she had done it well.

As the meeting wrapped up, Maha leaned in and whispered, “Looks like you impressed them.”

Musfira exhaled in relief. “Let’s hope Zaviyar thinks the same.”

Little did she know, he already did.