The rain was hitting the windows of Zain's black mansion like bullets.
Ayesha stood at the huge iron gate in a simple white suit. Her hands were shaking. In those hands were her father's hospital bills. 500,000 rupees. If she didn't pay tonight, they would stop his treatment.
The gate opened with a loud creaking sound.
Two guards in black suits grabbed her arms roughly. "Move. The boss is waiting."
Inside the hall, everything was dark and cold. Marble floors. Black furniture.
And in the middle, sitting on a black chair like a king, was Zain.
Black suit. Black eyes. A glass of red wine in his hand. He didn't even look at her.
"Sign here," his deep voice echoed in the hall. He pushed a paper toward her with one finger. "Marriage contract. 1 year."
Ayesha looked at the paper. Then at him. "Why me?" she whispered. "There are other girls."
Zain finally lifted his eyes. They were cold. Like ice.
"Because your father owes me money," he said slowly. "And you... you will pay the debt."
He stood up. He was tall. Scary. He walked toward her until he was standing right in front of her.
"Don't get any wrong ideas," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't like this. I don't trust poor girls like you. You're all gold diggers."
Ayesha felt anger rise in her chest. "And I don't trust monsters like you," she said back, lifting her chin.
Zain smirked. It was not a nice smile. "Good. Then we understand each other."
He picked up a pen and put it in her hand. His fingers were cold.
"Sign it, Ayesha. Or your father dies tonight."
Tears filled Ayesha's eyes. She had no choice.
With a trembling hand, she signed the paper.
From today, she was the wife of the Mafia King.
And he hated her.