Zeeshan Khan's POV
After that terrible dinner, we said our goodbyes and left the palace.
I got into my car while my parents followed in theirs.
The moment the door shut, silence wrapped around me.
But my mind—
my mind refused to quiet down.
The entire drive, my thoughts circled back to her.
To Inaya.
Every word she spoke replayed in my head.
Her calm voice.
Her cold strength.
The way she stood there like nothing in this world could break her again.
And the way she looked.
Breathtaking.
I was angry at her—furious for what she had done. For what she had destroyed.
And yet…
somewhere deep inside me—
a part of me still loved her.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop.
Just remembering her face made my heartbeat quicken. A strange, unwanted peace settled in my chest, clashing violently with the hatred I carried.
I hadn't shown her anything.
Not the anger.
Not the weakness.
But the truth was unbearable.
She was still devastatingly beautiful.
And I still loved her.
Too much.
Then my thoughts drifted somewhere darker.
That night.
The accident.
My grip tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
I wished—desperately—that it had never happened.
Because after that night—
everything changed.
Because of that accident, I watched my best friend, Hamid, break completely.
I remembered Zoya's funeral.
The sound of Hamid crying still echoes in my head. The way his entire body shook like he might collapse at any second. The grief that swallowed both families whole.
How could she do that?
How could Inaya do that to her own sister?
To her family?
To us?
Before the accident, my wedding with Inaya was all I thought about. I had imagined that day a thousand times—her smile, her laughter, the future we would build together.
But now—
nothing was the same.
Nothing.
She had destroyed everything.
And for that—
I hated her.
I hated her so much it burned.
By the time I reached home, my parents were already seated in the living room, waiting.
I didn't look at them.
Without a word, I walked past them, climbed the stairs, and entered my room.
The door slammed shut behind me.
And something inside me snapped.
I tore off my blazer and threw it across the room.
Then another thing.
And another.
Books.
Frames.
A lamp.
Glass shattered against the wall.
Within minutes, my room was destroyed.
A perfect reflection of me.
My chest heaved violently. My legs gave out, and I slid down until I was sitting on the cold floor.
That's when the tears came.
Hot.
Silent.
Unstoppable.
"Why, Inaya…?" I whispered brokenly.
My voice cracked.
"Why did you hurt us?"
My fists tightened.
"Why did you destroy our future?"
I don't know how long I stayed there.
Drowning in anger.
In regret.
In love I couldn't erase.
And somewhere between the pain and exhaustion—
I fell asleep.
Still crying.
On the cold floor.
The Next Morning
Sunlight stabbed through the curtains.
I groaned and tried to sit up—
only to be hit by a pounding headache.
My eyes burned, swollen from crying all night. My throat felt dry, raw.
I wasn't supposed to feel like this.
I wasn't supposed to still care.
Yet the moment her face crossed my mind—
the ache returned.
I looked around the room.
Broken glass.
Scattered papers.
An overturned chair.
So much destruction—
and still no relief.
"Get a grip," I muttered to myself.
The war hadn't started last night.
It had simply awakened again.
I went straight to my private gym.
Pain was easier than emotion.
I pushed my body harder than necessary until sweat replaced tears and exhaustion silenced the chaos.
After an hour, I showered.
When I stepped out—
I was calm again.
Dressed.
Composed.
Masked.
No redness.
No cracks.
Perfect.
Downstairs, my parents were already at the table.
"Good morning," I said evenly, taking my seat.
I sipped my coffee like nothing had happened.
Inside?
A storm.
Outside?
Stillness.
My mother finally broke the silence.
"This marriage… it's not right, Zeeshan. Not after everything."
I cut another piece of food calmly.
"After what?" I asked coolly.
My father sighed. "After Zoya. After Inaya leaving. This isn't a union—it's reopening wounds."
I looked up.
My eyes were calm.
Too calm.
"She deserves to face them," I said flatly.
"She was a child too that time," my mother whispered.
I placed my cutlery down slowly.
"She killed her own sister."
The words sucked the air from the room.
My mother's eyes filled with tears.
"This marriage secures our future," I continued coldly. "Power. Influence. Control."
A faint smile touched my lips.
"And if it costs her peace—" I stood up.
"Then that's justice."
My father's voice lowered. "This isn't about duty. It's about revenge."
I met his gaze without blinking.
"Call it whatever you like."
I adjusted my cufflinks.
"I'll marry her."
I paused at the doorway.
"And she will learn what it feels like to lose everything."
I walked away.
Behind me, my mother cried silently.
And my father stared at the table—
wondering when his son became someone he didn't recognize.
Unknown Person's POV
A man sits in his leather chair inside a luxurious office.
Perfectly tailored black suit.
Hazel eyes sharp. Restless.
His fingers move over the keyboard with ruthless precision.
Professionally flawless.
Mentally—
consumed.
Last night.
The balcony.
Inaya.
Her fragile figure beneath the cold sky.
Her shoulders shaking.
Her silent sobs.
And I saw it all.
From a distance.
Hidden.
Watching.
Her pain pierced me deeper than it should have.
I couldn't stay.
When her sobs became too much, I drove away like a madman.
An hour later, I slammed the brakes in the middle of the road and punched the steering wheel until my knuckles ached.
"She's hurting," I had growled.
Back in the present—
I unlock my laptop.
A secure window opens.
Her phone first.
Location—enabled.
A blinking dot appears.
Inside the palace.
Safe.
Contained.
Mine to monitor.
I switch tabs.
Another encrypted program loads.
Then—
her live footage fills my screen.
There she is.
Standing near the window.
Arms folded.
Back straight.
But her eyes…
They're distant.
"They don't deserve you, sweetheart," I murmur softly.
but i do.
"Don't worry. I'm going to take you away from them."A dark smirk forms on my lips.
The strong version of her belongs to the world.
The broken version?
That belongs to me.
She moves slightly.
I zoom in.
Just enough to study her expression.
Every breath.
Every blink.
If someone walked into my office right now, they'd see a powerful man working late.
They wouldn't see obsession glowing on my screen.
They wouldn't see devotion twisted into something dangerous.
"You can cry," I whisper. "But only when i make you."
My eyes darken.
If anyone inside that palace hurts her again—
I will destroy them.
Silently.
Legally.
Painfully.
She thinks the threat is outside.
She doesn't know—
I'm already inside.
Inside her walls.
Inside her devices.
Inside her shadows.
It began the day I saw her for the first time , and from that time she become mine.
And I don't lose what belongs to me.