The sun hung low over the city bazaar, spilling golden light over carpets, spices, and shouting vendors. The air smelled of cinnamon, roasted corn, and wool—familiar to Amaya, whose father had been selling carpets here since she was a child.
"Baba, let me come with you today," Amaya had insisted that morning.
Her father chuckled. "What? today you will help? Last time you distracted me more than you helped."
"Come on, Baba!" she laughed. "I'll fold the carpets faster than you."
And so she joined him, her soft pink dupatta fluttering as she walked through the bustling streets.
Across the bazaar, stepping out of a luxury black car, was Arif Khan.
He was the famous son of billionaire businessman Qadeee Khan—known for his temper, his arrogance, and his cruel smile that never reached his eyes. People said he had everything: money, luxury, power.
But those who worked under him whispered a different truth:
"Arif is a storm. Beautiful from far… deadly when near."
Arif removed his sunglasses, bored as always, scanning the bazaar—until his eyes froze.
There she was.
Amaya.
Simple white dress, soft features, eyes brighter than the bazaar itself.
For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
"A beauty like this… in such a place?" he murmured to himself.
His friend beside him nudged, "Arif, What happened?"
Arif stared without blinking.
"I want her."
He watched her fold carpets, helping her father, laughing gently at customers.
He watched the way sunlight touched her face.
His heart, usually cold and stiff, flipped strangely.
Unknown to Amaya, the bazaar had just gained a new predator.
At night, Arif stormed into his mansion and said loudly:
"I've found the girl I am going to marry."
His mother sighed.
"Another one? Arif, you don't understand what marriage is—"
"I am not asking for permission. I am telling you."
His father frowned.
"Who is she? Some city girl?"
"No," Arif smirked.
"A village girl. Innocent. Beautiful. Perfect for me."
His parents flatly refused.
"Absolutely not!"
But Arif was not a man who heard 'no'.
"You will send the proposal, or you will regret it."
And within two days, a grand car rolled into Amaya's small village.
Amaya was serving tea to her parents when Arif's rich family entered their home.
His mother smiled thinly.
"We have come with a proposal for your daughter."
Amaya froze, shocked.
Her parents exchanged uncomfortable glances.
"Yes… with whose son?" her father asked cautiously.
"Arif Khan son of Qadeer Khan"
The room felt colder.
Amaya's mother forced a smile.
"We are honored, but… our daughter is still studying. She is not ready."
Arif's mother looked offended.
"You're rejecting our proposal?"
Her father answered firmly,
"We respect your family, but marriage isn't a business deal. Amaya is not prepared."
The Khan family left with stiff faces.
But rejection does not end things with a man like Arif.
It starts them.
That night, Amaya heard her parents whispering anxiously.
Her father locked the door and said,
"Arif sent men to warn me… he said we should rethink."
Her mother's voice trembled,
"He is dangerous. We must be careful."
Amaya felt her stomach twist.
Next day, she stepped outside the house—and froze.
Arif was leaning against his car, staring at her with his cold smirk.
She immediately turned away, but he grabbed her wrist.
"Leave me!" she snapped.
His eyes darkened.
"You think you can reject me?"
"I never said yes," she whispered, scared.
He took a step closer, his breath brushing her ear.
"If you reject the proposal…
you will NEVER see your parents again."
Amaya's heart stopped.
"No… you're lying."
Arif chuckled—slow, cruel.
"Try me. I get what I want, Amaya."
Tears filled her eyes as she faced him.
"You're a monster."
"Maybe," he said, "but I'm a monster that loves you."
She pushed him away and ran inside, shaking.
Behind her, Arif whispered,
"Soon… you will be mine. Whether you like it or not."