"Ya main jeet jayunga ya woh haar jayegi."
Murtasim Khan, a feudal lord and business tycoon, is investigated for criminal activity when his business accounts are flagged for suspicious transactions.
In the pursuit of clearing his name, Murtasim veh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Meerab reclined back onto the office chair, sinking into the cool leather that provided a little relief from her overloaded schedule that brimmed with meetings and hearings. The glass desk infront of her was swarming with files, box ontop of boxes, encanging her in fortress of legal papers.
The window of her office overlooked the Karachi corporate scene. Behind the wall of elegant skyscrapers, the sky was painted in a warm mystical pink that fused into a rusty orange in the most surreal sunset.
A deep sigh drifted from Meerab's lungs; tired and overworked from being given more work after closing on one of the biggest deal she had ever worked on. Her secretary bought in a cup of coffee with a timid smile, knowing they were both exhausted. ''Meerab, araam karlein. Aaj ka din bahut lamba ho raha hai,'' she softly advised, her voice kind and sincere. (Meerab, why dont you rest. You've been in the office all day.)
''I know, thori derr mei jaati hou. Ghar pe mama aur baba bhe intezaar kar rahe hoenge. It's their wedding anniversary, and I have a reservation for dinner with them at 6.'' Meerab absentmindedly shared, time escaping her. (I'll go home in a while. Mama and baba are waiting for me.)
Maheer froze, enlightening, ''It's half 6 now?''
''Shit,'' slipped out of her mouth.
''Tut tut Miss Ahmed,'' her secretary teased, giggling at the way the day had chipped away with manners.
''Tameez baadmei sikhana. Please, ghar jaane se pehle mera desk thora sa tidy kar dena,'' Meerab requested, standing to her full height, with the extra 2 inches of her heels. The overflowing birkin was grabbed, along with her silky pashina shawl that she wrapped over her all black outfit, her turtle neck peaking out the top. (You can teach me manners later. Could you tidy up a little before going home please?)
''I was waiting for you,'' Maheen admit, the dimple deepening as if she had the same thought, testament to their teamwork.
Meerab stilled for a second, realising her secretary lingered for her sake, rousing a little guilt. ''It is late actually. Tum bhe ghar challe jaati Maheen, main khud reh leti; koy baat nahi,'' Meerab replied with a faint undertone of guilt. (You should go home. I'm okay staying here alone; I dont mind.)
''It's okay, I enjoy being in the office.''
Meerab eyed her, knowing she was lying. Her secretary had a neat shirt tucked to highlight the tiny waist, flowing out into her wide leg trousers that swaying with every strut. ''Do you know something I don't?''
Maheer hesitated a second, clicking the top of her pen in apprehension. ''I heard that a new case has been assigned to you...'' she trailed, swaying in her spot.
''What's there to be anxious of?'' Meerab saw the pause that mean she mulled over every-word before uttering it.
The fake smile dropped. ''The defendant is Murtasim Khan.''
