Evening was settling in. The ancient mosque hall in Peshawar was adorned with white marble floors, glowing chandeliers, and the faint scent of withered roses lingering in the air. The nikah gathering was arranged, but in the hearts of the couple there was nothing but pain and burden.
Jannat ul Mawia wore a creamy white and blush pink lehenga, delicately embroidered with golden zari work. Her dupatta was gracefully draped over her head. Her eyes held neither shyness nor joy — only a calmness that masked the storm raging inside her. Her lips were tightly sealed, breath shallow, and her mind focused on one thing: "I am doing this only to save my brother's life."
Arhan Khan stood in a white kurta-pajama with an off-white waistcoat. His broad shoulders and steely eyes held no softness — only a firm resolve: "Your brother killed mine… and I will destroy your entire life." His tall stature, strong chest, and sharp jawline spoke of the fire of revenge burning within him.
The Qazi's voice echoed through the mosque:
"Arhan Khan, do you accept Jannat ul Mawia, daughter of Ahtasham, as your wife?"
Arhan glanced briefly at Jannat — no trace of love in his eyes, only a promise of revenge.
"I accept."
After the third repetition, it was Jannat's turn. Eyes cast downward, fingers clenched tightly around her bangles. Her throat dry, but the thought of her brother's life forced her to speak.
"I accept."
Their eyes met for a moment — but there was no respect, no gratitude, no hint of blossoming love… only a silent battle that had just begun.
The First Step Into the Mansion
As the evening darkened, Arhan's jeep drove through narrow old streets and stopped in front of a grand yet somber mansion. The ancient sheesham wood door was intricately carved, flanked on both sides by wilted rose bushes.
Stepping inside, the cool marble floor and the subtle scent of jasmine welcomed them — but alongside it came a heavy silence.
Standing right at the door was Sadia Begum — about fifty years old, fair-skinned with sharp features, tall in stature, dressed in a maroon silk dress embroidered with golden thread. Her dupatta was pinned tightly over her head, but her eyes burned with a fire as if her very soul was aflame.
Upon seeing Jannat, her face hardened.
"Arhan! You brought your brother's killer's sister here? That wretched boy of mine… who took your brother's life!"
With those words, Sadia Begum stepped forward and slapped Jannat repeatedly. Each slap deepened the rage in her eyes.
Jannat staggered and fell to the floor — her dupatta slipped off, revealing her bare shoulders and collarbones.
Arhan's reaction — He was sitting in the drawing room with Umer Khan. Hearing the commotion, he came out and saw Jannat on the ground. Although the marriage was for revenge, no man could tolerate disrespect to his wife. His face turned to stone, fists clenched tight — a true Pathan man who would never compromise on honor.
Umer Khan immediately grabbed Sadia's hand, "Sadia, stop!"
Hadia — Arhan's younger sister, eighteen years old, fair with brown hair in a neat braid, wearing a sky-blue chiffon suit with silver lace. Her face was innocent but her eyes full of shock. She came to Jannat and said,
"Sister-in-law… come, let me take you to Arhan's room."
Sadia Begum's pain — "Leave me, Umer! I will take that girl's life! Her brother took my heart, my Azan, my very soul from me! Give me my son back, or leave me with him! I cannot live without him!"
Umer took a deep breath and said,
"Those who leave, do not return… even a hundred cannot replace one."
Mention of Alizey — Sadia Begum's voice grew sharp,
"You know, Umer… Arhan loves Alizey, and she loves him with all her passion! You treated my children badly. You know how possessive she is — whether about things or people. For Arhan, she would even die! Alizey is my sister… the last memory of your brother. I will not let anything happen to her!"
The First Night — A Glimpse
The night deepened, and the room was dimly lit by a small lantern. Arhan's eyes burned with the cold fire of revenge. His face was stern, but his words carried a deep sense of responsibility.
He looked at Jannat, her face marked with pain and helplessness, then said in a voice thick with anger,
"This marriage is for revenge, but understand one thing — no one will lay a hand on my honor, no matter how forced you are."
Jannat silently lowered her head. Her breaths were quick, her heart pounding — but inside her, a hidden courage was rising, determined to protect her honor amidst this sea of anger and vengeance.