the once crore Deal

Chapter 5

The One Crore Deal - Chapter 5

​Isfand took his steps, his heart beating uncontrollably against his ribs, and walked into the kitchen. The sound of his own heavy heartbeat was the only thing echoing in his ears. Zartash looked no less than a vision descended from heaven. As breathtaking as she looked in black, she looked a hundred times more ethereal in white—like a pure, untouched white rose fresh from the morning dew.

​She stood facing the counter, her back to him, quietly brewing tea. He closed the distance silently, stepping so impossibly close that the sweet, intoxicating fragrance of her shampoo and the natural warmth of her body wrapped around him.

​"Zartash..." The name slipped past his lips like a fragile prayer, his voice uncharacteristically soft, broken, and heavy with a love he was only beginning to understand.

​Startled, she turned and hastily moved to the other side of the counter, her expression guarded and laced with hurt.

​"Are you angry? Are you jealous?" He stepped closer, tracing her movement like a stubborn, lovesick child, a faint, helpless smile touching his lips.

​"Why would I be angry? Why would I feel bad? What relation do I even share with you? What right do I have?" Zartash’s voice trembled, her eyes instantly swimming with tears she desperately tried to blink away. "It's your choice; you can stay with whoever you want, touch whoever you want. It's only been a few days since I entered your life, while she's barely been here half a day. You two clearly understand each other so well..." She forced a heartbreaking, brittle smile, her hands shaking so violently as she stirred the tea that the spoon clinked loudly against the porcelain.

​Isfand walked out of the kitchen, but her words felt like a double-edged dagger piercing straight through his chest, echoing relentlessly in his head: What relation do I share with you...

​Retreating to his private bedroom to regain his sanity, he took a long, freezing cold shower. When he stepped out with only a black towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water glistening over his sculpted chest and damp hair, he found Nina sitting uninvited right on the edge of his bed, a predatory smile playing on her lips.

​"You're done?" Nina murmured, her eyes raking over his water-دrenched, muscular physique with unconcealed lust. "You look dangerously hot."

​"What the hell are you doing in here? Who gave you permission to step foot in my room? Get out, right now," Isfand's voice dropped into a lethal, ice-cold register.

​Ignoring his warning, she rose and slinked closer, her fingers trailing upward toward his bare, wet chest. "I just thought you might need some company..."

​"Don't test me," he growled, aggressively grabbing a shirt. But before he could slip it on, Nina lunged forward with a bold, desperate move.

​Before she could touch him, Isfand’s patience snapped completely. With lightning-fast reflexes, his hand shot out, wrapping around her narrow waist and yanking her flush against his chest. His eyes burned a terrifying, blood-red.

​"There is zero room for mistakes in Isfand's life. And you crossed a line you shouldn't have," he whispered, his voice vibrating with pure hatred before he shoved her away with a violent jerk. "Get out. Now."

​Downstairs, Zartash was quietly tending to her duties in the kitchen while Isfand tried to leash his volcanic temper in the lounge.

​Sensing an opportunity for malicious revenge, Nina strolled past the kitchen counter. As Zartash carried a freshly brewed cup of hot tea, Nina deliberately slammed her hip into Zartash's arm.

​Crash!

​Scalding hot liquid splashed directly over the back of Zartash’s delicate hand. A heart-wrenching, piercing scream tore from her throat as her soft skin turned blisteringly, violently red.

​"What happened?! Who did this?!" Isfand launched himself across the room like a deranged storm.

​Before Nina could even flinch, a thunderous, open-handed slap cracked across her face. The immense force sent her crashing hard against the floor. "I told you, there is no room for mistakes!" Isfand roared, his eyes blazing a terrifying crimson, his fists shaking with murderous rage.

​Ignoring her completely, he dropped to his knees in front of Zartash. Gently—as if holding the most fragile piece of crystal in existence—he pulled out the medical kit, applying soothing ointment and wrapping clean gauze around her fingers with agonizing care.

​"Does it hurt a lot? I am so sorry, my love... this is all because of me," he whispered, his eyes swimming with helpless tears, hurting far more than she did.

​"I'm okay now... it doesn't hurt when you touch me," she whispered softly, locking her gaze with his. In that suspended heartbeat, all her anger and jealousy evaporated. His care was her ultimate cure.

​Later that evening, Isfand’s phone buzzed. It was Roohi, his childhood best friend. "Bring them over to my place tomorrow, Isfand. I want to meet my future sister-in-law," Roohi teased over the line.

​That evening, as they prepared to leave, Isfand waited outside the bedroom door. Zartash stepped out adjusting her pink dupatta, wearing a lovely light pink dress complemented by a touch of soft pink lipstick. She looked like a fresh, innocent spring rose petal. Isfand, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a black leather jacket, looked breathtakingly handsome—like a cinematic hero. Their eyes met, and both quickly looked away, their hearts hammering against their ribs.

​Later, during their outing, Nina suddenly pointed ahead as they drove past a bustling suburban street. "Stop! Look, a village fair!"

​Drawn by the glowing lights and festive music, Zartash’s eyes lit up like a child's. "Can we please go? I've never seen a village fair before." Isfand could never, ever say no to her.

​Parkion nearby, they stepped into the vibrant, crowded fairgrounds. Overwhelmed by the dense crowd, Zartash instinctively grabbed his jacket sleeve. "I feel a bit anxious..." she murmured.

​Without a second thought, Isfand’s large, warm hand enveloped hers, locking their fingers tightly together. "Stay close. I'm right here. No one can touch you when you're with me," he reassured her with a rare, gentle smile that instantly melted all her fears.

​At a local shooting game booth, Nina tried and failed repeatedly. "Zartash, why don't you try?" Isfand urged softly.

​"I don't even know how to hold one..."

​Stepping directly behind her, Isfand enveloped her frame, his broad chest lightly pressing against her back as he guided her hands. "Stand straight... hold it like this..." His warm breath fanned against the sensitive skin of her neck, the faint scent of her hair driving him completely insane. For a fleeting second, he wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms and vanish from the world entirely.

​She pulled the trigger—bang!—and hit the bullseye dead-center, winning a massive stuffed teddy bear as the surrounding crowd cheered.

​Suddenly, the festive mood shattered.

​Crack! Pop!

​The sharp, unmistakable sound of a real bullet echoed through the air, followed by terrified screams as panic erupted.

​Before logic could even register, Isfand spun around, pulling Zartash fiercely against his chest and shielding her entire body with his own. "Get down!"

​A stray bullet grazed Isfand’s upper arm, tearing through his jacket and drawing a bright line of crimson. But he didn't even flinch. With lethal precision, he drew his own concealed firearm, his eyes transforming into those of a cold-blooded hunter.

​Out of the shadows, three masked men lunged forward—Nina's hired mercenaries.

​Isfand fought like a cornered beast. Punches, kicks, and calculated strikes rained down as he single-handedly dismantled the ambush while keeping Zartash securely tucked under one protective arm. Bleeding and breathless, he fought his way to the car, shoving her inside for safety.

​"Isfand! You're bleeding!" Zartash sobbed hysterically as he started the ignition and sped away into the night.

​Back at the safety of the apartment, after he had calmed her and ensured she was resting, Isfand stepped out onto the dark balcony. He already knew the truth.

​A moment later, footsteps approached. Sonia—disguised as Nina—stepped out into the shadows, a chilling smirk on her face. "Are you okay?"

​"Do you know... ever since Zartash stepped into my life, I've lost all my sanity to her? I don't even know if she'll ever truly be mine, but I am irreversibly, madly in love with her," Isfand stated, his voice dangerously devoid of warmth.

​"So..." Sonia purred, stepping closer.

​In a fraction of a second, Isfand moved like lightning. He grabbed her by the throat and slammed her hard against the concrete balcony wall, his grip tightening until she choked for air.

​"Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out, Sonia?" Isfand whispered inches from her face, his eyes glowing with unadulterated fury. "Anyone who dares even scratch her... I will dismantle their entire existence down to dust. I am Isfand. I know every game played in the dark. You were sent by her enemies to eliminate her."

​Panic flashed across her eyes as she realized her cover was blown. "Please—"

​"There is no room for mistakes in Isfand's life," he cut her off coldly, pulling a sharp silver blade from his jacket. With one swift, merciless motion, he ended her betrayal right there under the moonlight.

​Looking down at his blood-stained hands, his expression hardened into an absolute vow.

​“She is my zidd... my ultimate obsession. And I will slaughter anyone who dares try to take her away from me.”

​TO BE CONTINUED...