Chapter 8: The Shattered Reflection
1153 Words
Ilham Nagar – The Aziz Khan Estate
The night pressed against the grand walls of the Aziz Khan mansion, its silence more suffocating than ever. Wareesha sat motionless in her grandmother’s room, her fingers digging into the silk of her dupatta. The air smelled of sandalwood and something else—something heavy, like the weight of the past finally unraveling.
Dadi sat across from her, her frail hands resting in her lap, trembling slightly. But her eyes—those deep, wise eyes—held a storm.
“It’s time, beta,” Dadi said softly, her voice breaking the stillness.
Wareesha swallowed hard. “Time for what?”
Dadi sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment before looking straight into hers. “For you to know the truth.”
A chill ran through Wareesha.
She had spent her whole life in this house, surrounded by love, by the warmth of a family that had never given her a reason to doubt them. And yet, something in Dadi’s voice made her stomach tighten in dread.
“What truth?” Wareesha whispered.
Dadi reached out, her fingers gently clasping Wareesha’s. “Aziz Khan is not your father.”
The words struck like a blade.
Wareesha blinked. The sentence didn’t make sense. It couldn’t.
She let out a nervous laugh. “That’s not—” She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
Dadi didn’t flinch. “It is.”
“No.” Wareesha pushed back in her chair, her chest tightening. “I don’t believe you.”
“I wish you didn’t have to,” Dadi whispered, grief laced in her voice.
Wareesha’s pulse roared in her ears. “Then whose daughter am I?”
Dadi didn’t speak right away. Instead, she reached for the small wooden box on her nightstand, her fingers trembling as she lifted the lid.
Inside was an old, worn photograph.
Dadi held it out to her.
Wareesha hesitated before taking it, her breath shallow.
The moment she saw it, her blood ran cold.
A man stared back at her. Sharp features, piercing dark eyes. There was something in his gaze—fierce, almost haunting.
And then it hit her.
She had seen those eyes before.
Not in the mirror. Not in Aziz Khan.
But in Bashir Alam.
Her fingers trembled as she gripped the photo tighter.
No.
No, this couldn’t be—
Dadi’s voice was a whisper. “His name was Shahzeb Alam.”
Wareesha’s body went rigid. The name echoed in her mind like a curse.
Alam.
The same name as Bashir.
The same name as—
She shot up from her seat, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “He was related to them?”
Dadi’s eyes filled with sorrow. “He was Bashir’s elder brother.”
The floor beneath her seemed to disappear.
Shahzeb Alam. A name never spoken in Ilham Nagar. A name erased from history.
Her real father.
A choked breath escaped her lips. “Why… why was I never told?”
Dadi looked down at her hands, her voice raw with pain. “Because Aziz Khan wanted to erase him from your life. From this world.”
Wareesha’s nails dug into her palms. “Why?”
Dadi inhaled deeply, as if gathering the strength to say the words.
“Because Shahzeb Alam was a threat.”
Wareesha’s breath hitched. “A threat? To whom?”
Dadi’s eyes darkened. “To Aziz Khan. To everything he built.”
The room spun.
Wareesha shook her head violently. “No. Abu—Aziz Khan—he loves me.”
Dadi’s lips trembled. “He raised you because he had to. Not because he wanted to.”
The words cut deeper than any knife.
Wareesha felt like she was suffocating. “No. No, that’s not true.”
Dadi’s voice wavered. “It is.”
Wareesha staggered back, pressing a hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath.
“Your mother loved Shahzeb Alam. He was the only man she ever wanted. But their love was f*******n. Aziz Khan—” Dadi swallowed hard. “He wanted her for himself.”
Wareesha felt like she was drowning.
“No.”
Dadi’s voice broke. “Aziz Khan forced her to marry him. And when she tried to run, when she tried to go back to Shahzeb—”
Wareesha clutched the edge of the table to steady herself. “What did he do?”
Dadi’s eyes shimmered with tears. “He got rid of him.”
The words felt like a dagger through Wareesha’s heart.
She shook her head violently, refusing to believe it.
Aziz Khan—the man who had raised her, protected her, called her his daughter—he had done this?
Dadi took a shaky breath. “I kept this secret for years, Wareesha. To protect you. Because if Aziz Khan knew you would one day claim your rightful place, he would make sure you never got the chance.”
Wareesha’s breath came in sharp, broken gasps.
“Then why does he act like he loves me?” she whispered, almost pleading.
Dadi’s expression was filled with sorrow.
“Because he knows the only way to control you is to make you trust him.”
The ground beneath her shattered.
Everything she knew, everything she believed in—was a lie.
---
Meanwhile – Zaraar’s Confrontation
Zaraar paced in front of Aziz Khan’s grand study, his hands clenched into fists. The moment he had received Wareesha’s message, he had driven straight here.
The doors swung open, and Aziz Khan stepped inside, his expression unreadable.
Zaraar didn’t waste a second. “What the hell have you done?”
Aziz Khan raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Zaraar.”
Zaraar took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You lied to her.”
Aziz Khan exhaled sharply. “It was never her truth to know.”
Zaraar’s jaw clenched. “You let her believe you were her father.”
Aziz Khan’s eyes darkened. “And wasn’t I? I raised her. I gave her my name.”
Zaraar’s fists tightened. “You stole her life.”
Aziz Khan’s lips curled into a smirk. “And what will you do, Zaraar? Save her?”
Zaraar took another step forward. “You’re afraid.”
Aziz Khan’s expression flickered.
“You know the truth is slipping from your hands,” Zaraar continued, his voice cold. “And when Wareesha finds out everything—” He leaned in, his voice a whisper. “You’ll have nothing left.”
Aziz Khan’s eyes flashed with warning. “Be careful, Zaman Baig. You don’t know what you’re stepping into.”
Zaraar didn’t blink. “Neither do you.”
With that, he turned and walked out, his heart pounding.
Wareesha wasn’t safe here.
And now, he knew—Aziz Khan would do anything to keep his power.
Even if it meant destroying her.
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- Writer
