the once crore Deal

Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Midnight Abduction and the Desperate Groom

The freezing winter wind howled through the desolate streets like a phantom in mourning, biting deep into skin and bone. In the pitch-black darkness of the night, Zartash ran blindly, her breath pluming in jagged clouds before her face. The cold was absolute, numbing her limbs, while the distant, haunting cries of wild animals echoed from the shadowed edges of the forest. Yet, she could not stop. She kept moving forward on the deserted asphalt, her mind trapped in a relentless loop of terror and guilt. Every single thought revolved around Esfand—because of her, his life had been plunged into mortal peril.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, freezing almost instantly against her skin. She loved him more than her own life, a fierce and consuming devotion that made the thought of her existence bringing him harm unbearable. She refused to let him be destroyed because of her shadow.

As she pushed past the half-hour mark, a sharp, agonizing wave of pain lanced through her exhausted feet, nearly buckling her knees. But before she could collapse, a sudden, blinding glare slashed across the darkness. Three or four cars pulled up in a synchronized screech of tires, blocking her path entirely.

The headlights hit her face like physical blows, pinning her in place. Her heart hammered frantically against her ribs. Who were these men? Where could she possibly run now? Raising trembling hands to shield her eyes from the blinding illumination, she tried to peer through the glare.

Footsteps crunched on the gravel as heavy shadows detached themselves from the vehicles. Men clad entirely in black, cold-eyed and lethal, strode toward her, the metallic glint of pistols gripped firmly in their hands.

"Where do you think you're going at this hour?" one of them barked, his voice dripping with calculated menace. "Don't you know wandering around here alone is a death sentence?"

"Are you out of your minds? Let me go!" Zartash rallied every ounce of her dwindling strength, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the sheer panic threatening to drown her senses. "Who are you people? I am not going anywhere with you!"

She screamed out as rough hands seized her wrists, dragging her forward. They ignored her desperate cries, paying no heed to her thrashing resistance as they forced her into the back of the vehicle. Within seconds, the car doors slammed shut, and the convoy vanished silently back into the thick, swirling fog.

Morning broke with a pale, cold light filtering through the curtains, waking Esfand with a sharp jolt. An acute ache throbbed through his healing wounds, but physical pain was instantly eclipsed by a cold surge of panic as his mind snapped to one name.

Zartash.

"Zartash..." he rasped, his voice rough with sleep as he pushed himself up from the bed. He expected to find her sitting right beside him, but the space next to him was empty and freezing.

Stumbling out of the bedroom, he checked the kitchen. Empty.

"Zartash?"

He pounded on the bathroom door, but received only silence. The lock was turned, but when he forced it open, the room was deserted. Back in her bedroom, her bags, clothes, and personal belongings were scattered in disarray.

Panic flared into roaring terror. Ignoring the searing pain in his body, he burst out into the hallway, searching the house like a madman. His heart beat wildly against his chest. Where could she have gone? Had the unthinkable happened? A dozen terrifying scenarios warred in his head as he found the outer door securely locked from the inside.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of his mobile phone pierced the heavy silence.

Esfand lunged toward the device, snatching it up. "Hello?"

A muscle twitched violently along his jawline as the voice on the other end delivered a swift, chilling report.

"I'm coming," he growled.

Without wasting a single second, he threw open the window, vaulted over the sill, and vanished into the morning shadows to hunt down the wolves who had dared touch what was his.

Inside a desolate, heavily guarded room, Zartash paced frantically, her eyes blazing with defiance. "Who are you people? Why did you bring me here? I've been asking you since last night!"

The men remained completely silent, stone-faced statues guarding the door, refusing to offer a single word of explanation.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door burst open with a deafening crash, splintering against the stone wall. Every head whipped toward the entrance.

"Esfand!" Zartash gasped, her breath catching in her throat as she saw him standing there in the doorway, fierce and resolute.

Behind him stood a bearded man holding the sacred texts of marriage, his expression solemn. Esfand strode past the guards, his eyes locked entirely on Zartash. The whites of his eyes were rimmed with fierce, unyielding red.

He closed the distance between them until he was towering right over her. Grabbing her chin, he forced her to look straight into his burning gaze. "Do you know who I am?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying intensity. "I am Esfand Yar Wali. Your lover, your protector."

He stepped closer, his chest brushing against hers, wrapping her in an aura of absolute dominance. "For you, I will tear the heavens and earth apart. Remember that."

Turning abruptly toward the cleric, his voice cut through the room like a blade. "Right here, right now, we are having our Nikah."

"No!" Zartash cried out, shaking her head in desperate refusal, looking toward Esfand with wide, terrified eyes.

Esfand's expression darkened into a dangerous edge. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek pistol, and pressed the cold barrel directly against his own temple. "What did you say? Say it again, Zartash. How much do you mean to me?" he demanded, his finger resting lightly on the trigger.

"Esfand, have you lost your mind?!" she shrieked, horror paralyzing her limbs.

"Yes, I have!" he shouted back. "And if you refuse me, I swear to God, I won't let this world have me either!"

"You're insane!" Zartash sobbed, lunging forward to violently shove his hand down, knocking the weapon away from his head.

Esfand didn't flinch. He grabbed her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and turned to the waiting cleric. "Sit down, Qazi Sahab. Begin."

And trembling, overwhelmed by a love so fierce it terrified her, Zartash whispered the fatal words into the heavy silence: "Qabool hai."

"Congratulations, Sir!"

The guards standing near the door—ironically, the very men Esfand had previously assigned to watch over her safety—smiled warmly, offering their blessings. Everyone in the room was beaming with relief and joy.

Everyone except Zartash. She stood frozen, staring blankly at Esfand, hot tears cutting clean paths down her pale cheeks.

Esfand stepped toward her, his expression softening instantly at the sight of her tears. He raised his hands to cup her face, reaching out to wipe away her sorrow. But before his palms could touch her skin, Zartash flinched violently and bolted toward the exit.

"Listen to me," he called out, his stride long and commanding as he caught her arm and yanked her back against his chest.

"Let go of my hand! I don't want to stay with you!" she screamed, thrashing against his grip.

"No," Esfand replied, his voice dropping into a low, unshakable purr as he pulled her flush against him. "Not anymore. You are Mrs. Esfand Yar Wali now. Get in the car. We are going home."