The Royal Mission

Ch|2

A frown appears on his elegant face. "You know who I am." It was not a question from his side; he said it in a way that made it sound like he didn't care if I knew him or not. And for some reason, I find it hot.

"Everyone get out." Calmness was dripping from his tone, but my gut tells me that he was anything but calm. I see all seven men getting out, leaving only him and me alone in the room. I look around; however, the lack of enough light fails to give me the background of the room.

"I believe you are feeling too free here." Light turns on as he speaks, revealing a master bedroom. "We need to change that."

"Why don't you like me getting free with you?" I inquire while getting up from my seat. He is standing a few inches away from me, staring at me with a look I can't decipher. Being a student of business, I made sure to study psychology so that I could understand the personalities of my clients in a way that would be a boon for me. However, he is someone I can't understand. He is so hard to read. Both in darkness and in light. Either he knows how to hide his emotions or he is emotionless. Both are hot, anyway.

"I simply don't like anything related to you." He gains my attention by doing this.

"So you hate me." I ask him curiously.

"The word hate is a humiliation to the venom I have for you." The words leave his mouth casually. Wow. Am I being a simp for him when he is clearly saying that he hates me? Yes. Why? Because he is so my type.

"Do you know the kind of books I read?" A smirk appears on my face.

"What makes you think I am interested in anything you do?" A hint of irritation is on his face.

"Excuse me, sir; you are not supposed to ruin this. Keep your handsome mouth shut and let me speak." Walking around him in circles, I continue. So I like enemies to lovers books, like they are on my top favorite tropes list."

"There are curtain things that I would like to clear in-" A sudden grab of my shoulder halts me midway through my sentence.

"Do you think I am as free as you? My time is precious, and I find it an insult to waste it on you!
Remember Mehreen this is not the book you read; this is real. My disgust for you is real. You better be on my good terms, or I don't care whose sister you are. I WILL BREAK YOU INTO PIECES YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO COLLECT!"

"I am warning you not to shout at me with that deep voice of yours because I will fall in love with you." It was a much-needed thing for him to listen because I am already a simp for him. Now that he is trying to seduce me with his deep voice, what if I actually fall for him? Will he pay for my tissues if I can't find him after this?

Leaving my shoulder, he steps back. A handkerchief is taken out by him, and he wipes his hand. The same hand was on my shoulder just now. I should be offended by this action, but he is too handsome.

"That is going to be your problem, not mine; remember, not even a single phantom of my existence will ever be affected by you." His tone is calm, but his face shows that he cares about nothing.

"Ok, but I can see that there is only one bed; the floor is too cold. Can I sleep with you on your bed?" I asked innocently. A frown appears on his face, but it vanishes soon.

"Just for your information, I want to try blindfolding so we can start with that." I wanted to clearly tell my fantasies; it's not like I am going to meet him again. This time, his eyebrows raise, and he sighs audibly.

"I heard that your men kidnapped the wrong girl." Another deep voice reaches my ears, forcing me to look at the source of it.

"Wow, I can't believe they really kidnapped her sister." He says he is leaning on the doorframe. He is a tall man whose appearance matches those of those who are not supposed to be messed with. His hair is black and perfectly styled, like Lee Jung Suk in Big Mouth.

"Seriously? What the hell are you doing here? How do you always manage to leave her alone?" The man standing a few inches from me inquired.

"I am telling you she forces me to leave her." Strolling towards us, he says. "She told me that her love language is physical touch. How am I supposed to react to that?" Whoever they are talking about, I can sense the tension in his tone.

"Your eyes...they are beautiful." They are the most unique eyes I have seen in my life. I heard people have different eye colors, but seeing it in reality is so much more captivating than anyone can describe. Never in the past ten years of living in New York have I seen such breathtaking eyes.

"He is married!" My handsome kidnapper informs me in a firm tone.

"Your wife must be lucky to get such unique eyes." Simple words are not enough to describe these eyes.

All his emotions are gone from his face, replaced by a fake smile. "It is nice meeting you, Mehreen. I have heard a lot of things about you." He says it, his voice laced with honey.

"You know me?" I ask.

"How can I not know my friend's sister?" A smirk faintly appears on his face, and then he shifts his focus to the man beside me.

Now I am kind of getting it; even the man beside me mentioned the word sister, and now this unique-eyed guy is saying the same thing. Which means they know Zainab. The realization makes me go numb as memories from my past flash in front of me. Why is it always happening to me? Why can I never get away from her? Is it important for her to be present in every phase of my life? And even after all this, why can't I seem to hate her?

I don't notice anything, not when the other man leaves or the kidnapper, who I assume wanted to kidnap Zainab, speaks.

"You are worse than the image I had of you in my mind." As he walks towards the bed and sits on it like a king, he continues, "None of this is for you. This was all supposed to be for Zainab. One bed? Blindfold? Mafia? I didn't know you wanted to be a prostitute so badly." His tone was so casual that it felt like he knew me too well. It's irritating. I hate when people pretend to know me when they have not even a single damn idea about me.

"Your words say more about you than they do about me." Crossing my arms over my chest, I say. There is a great urge within me to leave this place this instant, but I don't because no one has ever talked to me like this. Gone are the days where people used to judge me for how I looked; now I am confident, both in my personality and in my looks.

He looks away, as if he can't stand me anymore. Perfect because now I don't even want to see his face. He is the one and only person for whom I am feeling this much hatred from the bottom of my heart.

"I know you better than people around you; everything about you is black, from your heart to your soul. You are one of the worst people to ever exist. People like you don't deserve to live; you are just a burden on this sinful earth." His remarks should hurt me, but they don't because I am not even listening. He is like the desi aunt who has too much venom for other people's children.

"I'd engage in a battle of wits with you, but I see you're unarmed. I wonder why my friends call me delusional when, in reality, people like you exist who think they know the entire world." I comment.

But this time he doesn't reply; he simply reaches to the side table and presses a button. "Send someone to my room; I need to throw some garbage out." With a pause, he looks in my direction and says, "Respectfully dorp to where she belongs." He completes, before I can say anything, "I am a civil person, and you are lucky that my future in-laws care about you, not that I care about them. It's just that Zainab cares about them. And remember, if you try to say anything against me to them, I'll make sure you see a side of which I hate showing to females." With that, he leaves. I hate this man.
Zainab ka chamcha kahin ka. Aya bada, isko to mai batati hun.