Draped for the Devil

Draped for the Devil - 7

Aariz stood up from the sofa, slow and deliberate, his tall frame casting a shadow that stretched across the room. Each step he took echoed ominously, the sound pressing against Zara's chest like a weight.

Zara instinctively backed up until her spine touched the closed door. Her fingers trembled against the wood, her breath catching. But Aariz didn’t approach her.

Instead, he walked around the desk and lowered himself into the principal’s chair—like he owned the space. Like he was the one in charge.

Then he looked at her.

“Zara Iqbal,” he said.

Just her name—but the way it rolled off his tongue, deep and slow, made her skin crawl. There was something unsettling in his tone. Cold. Calculated. Possessive.

Zara’s eyes fell to the floor instantly, her lashes trembling. She gripped the hem of her dupatta tightly, twisting it around her fingers to keep her hands from shaking.

“Come here,” he said.

The command was simple, but her legs refused to move. She couldn’t. Fear locked her in place. Her knees felt like they’d give in if she tried.

Why me? Why is he here again?

She had barely gathered herself since yesterday—barely stitched her courage back together—and now here he was, again. Sitting across from her like some powerful storm cloaked in silence.

When she didn’t move, the air in the room shifted.

Aariz leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. His jaw clenched as he spoke again—this time, voice lowered, tight, controlled rage simmering beneath every syllable.

“I don’t say anything twice,” he said through gritted teeth. “Come. Here.”

The final word snapped like a whip in the silence.

Zara flinched.

Every instinct screamed at her to run—but her legs obeyed him.

Slowly, hesitantly, she stepped away from the door, her head still lowered, her heart pounding louder with every step she took toward the man whose presence alone twisted her breath into knots.

She didn’t know what he wanted from her.

But she knew—whatever it was, it wouldn’t leave her unchanged.

She moved slowly, almost mechanically, toward the desk. Her footsteps were soundless, but her heart pounded like a warning drum in her chest.

She stopped a few feet away.

“Sit,” Aariz said, his voice low but firm.

She obeyed instantly, sinking into the chair opposite him. Her hands folded tightly in her lap, eyes still lowered. She didn’t dare meet his gaze.

Aariz leaned back in the principal’s chair, studying her for a moment with unreadable eyes. The silence between them was so heavy, it felt alive.

Then he finally spoke.

“If I want something…” he began, his voice calm—too calm—like a storm that hadn’t yet touched ground. “I take it. In any way I see fit.”

Zara’s breath hitched.

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over her.

“But before I take,” he continued, his tone sharpening just slightly, “I give a chance.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his stare fixed on her like a predator watching its prey.

“Only once.”

Zara’s hands clenched tighter in her lap, knuckles turning white. She didn’t know what he meant—what he was implying. But every word wrapped around her like invisible chains.

Aariz Khan wasn’t just warning her.

He was declaring something.

Something she didn’t yet understand—but knew would change everything.

Aariz’s gaze didn’t waver as he spoke again—calm, composed, but carrying a dangerous edge beneath each syllable.

“If I get the answer as ‘no’…” he said, his fingers slowly tapping against the desk, “…then I take the chance.”

His voice lowered, but the threat in it was unmistakable. Icy. Absolute.

“I don’t ask twice. I don’t wait. And I never leave empty-handed.”

Zara sat frozen, her throat dry, her mind spinning. She couldn’t understand what he was after—what this conversation meant—but the message in his voice was clear:

This wasn’t a request.

It was a warning dressed as a choice.

Aariz leaned slightly forward, his eyes still locked on her lowered face.

“I’m offering you the chance right now, Zara Iqbal. What you choose... decides what I do next.”

Zara slowly lifted her head, her eyes finally meeting his.

Confusion clouded her gaze. Fear lingered in the corners. But she looked at him—truly looked at him—for the first time.

Aariz held her stare for a beat longer, his face unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached to his side and slid a thin file across the desk toward her.

The quiet sound of the folder grazing the wood felt louder than it should have.

“Read it,” he said flatly.

Zara’s eyes dropped to the file now resting in front of her. Her fingers hesitated at first—shaking slightly—then reached out to open it.

She didn’t know what waited inside.

But something told her… this wasn’t just paper.

It was the beginning of something far more dangerous.

As Zara opened the file, her eyes scanned the first few lines—and her breath caught.

Each word cut deeper than the last.

Her throat tightened. Her hands trembled.

And then… the tears came. Silent at first, then heavier—falling freely down her cheeks as the meaning of the document sank in.

No. This can’t be real.

She blinked hard, hoping the words would blur into nothing. Hoping she was still asleep. That any moment now, she would wake up in her bed with Ananya beside her, and all of this would vanish like a bad dream.

But it didn’t.

The paper stayed. The words stayed. The weight of it pressed harder on her chest.

Her heart pounded so violently she could barely breathe. Every instinct in her screamed to run—to get out of that room before her world collapsed completely.

She looked up at Aariz with wide, pleading eyes.

But he wasn’t looking away.

He was watching her.

Calm. Unshaken.

Like he had expected this reaction all along.

Aariz leaned back in the principal’s chair, his gaze never leaving her tear-streaked face. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed the pen onto the file she had just read.

The sound made her flinch.

His voice came next—low, emotionless, yet sharp enough to slice through her chest.

“Now say it, Zara,” he said coldly.

“Will you willingly obey… to be my w***e?”

The word landed like a slap.

She gasped, her entire body recoiling from the venom behind it. Her lips trembled, unable to form a single sound. Her heart thrashed in her chest, too loud, too fast.

She shook her head slightly, as if trying to wake up from a nightmare that refused to end.

But he didn’t blink. Didn’t soften.

He only waited. Like a man who already knew the answer… but wanted to hear it from her trembling lips.

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