the once crore Deal

Chapter 2

The One Crore Deal - Chapter 2

​The phone call had ended abruptly, leaving a heavy, inexplicable hum in the air. Asfand stared at his mobile screen, where a cool one crore had just been deposited into his account—the blood money for terminating a trivial, broken girl. Yet, the victory felt hollow.

​Checking his watch, it was dead midnight, precisely 12:00 AM. He walked down the corridor and pushed open the bedroom door. She was still fast asleep, curled up on her side, facing away from him.

​Leaving her undisturbed, he headed upstairs to the private loft where his childhood friend, Roohi, lived. Whenever his chaotic world felt like it was spinning out of control, Roohi was his anchor. Sitting on her balcony, he recounted the entire bizarre episode while she handed him a steaming mug of coffee.

​"And what if they find out you didn't eliminate her?" Roohi asked sharply, her eyes narrowing as she sat beside him.

​"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Asfand muttered, taking a slow sip.

​"You're inviting unnecessary trouble, Asfand," Roohi pressed, her tone laced with warning. "Your rule is simple: money, job, and zero loose ends. Just get rid of her and be done with it."

​"What? Am I supposed to kill a corpse?" he snapped defensively, a sudden edge in his voice.

​Roohi let out a soft, knowing laugh, leaning closer. "Asfi... have you fallen in love?"

​Asfand choked on his coffee, his sharp jaw clenching as he glared at her. "Are you out of your mind? You know me better than that! I don't have time for nonsense like love."

​"Love doesn't ask for permission, and it certainly doesn't follow rules," Roohi whispered softly, studying his restless expression. "So tell me, why didn't you kill her? The ruthless Asfandiyar Wali has never spared a soul in his life. Why her?"

​"Drop it, Roohi. I didn't come here for a lecture," he growled, standing up abruptly and storming out into the night.

​When he returned to his flat an hour later, something felt eerily different. The moment he stepped inside, the oppressive gloom of the apartment seemed lifted.

​The place was spotless.

​The scattered cigarette packs, the heaps of clothes, the empty mugs—everything had been meticulously cleaned and organized. It was evident she had poured her sweat and tears into tidying up his messy bachelor pad.

​His dark eyes swept across the room before catching sight of her emerging from the front balcony. Her hair fell messily around her pale face, and her eyes carried an exhausted, haunting depth.

​"Do you have an address?" Asfand asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to her. "I need to contact whoever is connected to you and drop you home."

​She stopped, turning her face toward him with a chilling calmness. "I have no one."

​"Meaning?"

​"I said, I have no family, no home, no one," she repeated, her gaze locking fiercely into his.

​Frustration boiled over in his veins. "Then I can't harbor a stranger here either! Tell me where you belong, or—"

​"I told you, I belong nowhere!" she interrupted, her voice trembling with sudden defiance. She was the first human being on earth who dared to stand toe-to-toe with him, fearlessly hurling words back at a man who could end her life with a twitch of his finger.

​"Then don't be a dead weight on my shoulders!" Asfand exploded, losing control. "I don't keep unnecessary baggage, and I certainly didn't sign up for this charity case! Go to hell for all I care!"

​"And I never begged for your "mercy" or your roof!" she screamed back, tears of sheer humiliation spilling from her eyes.

​"Get out!" he roared, grabbing her delicate wrist and dragging her toward the door. With a furious shove, he pushed her out into the hallway and slammed the heavy oak door right in her face.

​Thud!

​Blinded by sudden rage and an agonizing internal friction, Asfand punched the decorative glass vase standing near the console. Shards shattered everywhere, and a crimson line of blood began to drip from his knuckles. Breathing heavily, he sank onto the sofa, yanked a handkerchief from his pocket to wrap around his bleeding hand, and lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. He closed his eyes, trying to block her out.

​Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. An hour passed.

​The silence in the apartment felt deafening. His restlessness escalated into absolute madness. Every time he closed his eyes, her face flashed before him—those bruised cheeks, the rebel strands of hair brushing against her lips, and the ocean of pain in her eyes.

​Unable to take it anymore, he cursed loudly, jumped off the couch, and grabbed his car keys like a man possessed.

​He threw open the door and sped into the night, driving his car recklessly through the empty streets, hunting for her like a wild animal. Ten minutes stretched into twenty. Where would she go in the dead of night? How could she survive out there in her condition?

​Then, as his tires screeched over a speed breaker near the old railway station, his heart leaped into his throat.

​Sitting alone on a lonely wooden bench, head bowed in utter defeat, was a small, fragile figure in black.

​Asfand slammed the brakes, killed the engine, and leaped out of the car. He rushed toward her just as she stood up to walk away into the dark.

​"Stop! Listen to me—" he panted, reaching out to grab her hand.

​Slap!

​The sharp sound of a violent blow echoed through the deserted station. Asfand's head jerked to the side, the stinging heat of her palm burning against his cheek.

​"Just leave me alone! Go away!" she screamed, her voice breaking into agonizing hiccups as she sobbed uncontrollably. "I never asked you to save me! I don't want to be a burden, I don't want anyone's pity, and I certainly don't want to live anymore! If you're a killer, just finish the job! Kill me, please... kill me!"

​She grabbed his jacket, her fists beating weakly against his chest as she collapsed inward, completely shattered. Every single tear she shed felt like acid burning straight through Asfand's hardened heart.

​He couldn't take it anymore. The walls he had built around his soul for a lifetime crumbled into dust.

​Without another word, Asfand wrapped his arms tightly around her trembling frame, pulling her fiercely against his chest in a desperate, suffocating embrace. For the first time in his dark, violent existence, he felt complete—as if she had walked into his life not to break him, but to stitch together every shattered piece of his soul.

​For a brief second, she froze in his arms, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if holding onto her last lifeline. But the sheer exhaustion and trauma caught up with her. Her grip loosened, her voice faded into a soft sigh, and she slipped entirely unconscious against his chest.

​With a panicked breath, Asfand scooped her fragile body effortlessly into his arms, holding her close against his heart as he carried her back to the car, knowing his life would never be the same again.