Her hands clutched her dress as she looked down. I placed my both hands each side of her head on the wall and caged her. She was terrified to be in that position. "Move back. What are you doing" Turning her face to a side she pushed me with both han...
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It was still dark outside, the faint hum of the city muted behind the heavy curtains of their hotel room. The clock on the nightstand glowed faintly—4:00 a.m. Shafiyya stirred in her sleep, shifting slightly beneath the soft sheets, until a low voice tugged her back from her dreams.
Her lashes fluttered open, heavy with drowsiness, and through the blur she caught sight of Arsh. He was already awake, fully dressed in his dark jeans and a black fitted T-shirt that outlined the strength of his frame. His presence seemed to dominate the room, even in silence.
For a moment, Shafiyya just sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes, wondering why he was dressed at such an hour. The cool air brushed her bare arms, and she instinctively pulled the sheet around herself.
Arsh's sharp gaze landed on her the moment she moved. His lips curved slightly, not into a full smile but into something that carried an edge of command.
"Get up," he said, his tone calm but firm, the kind that allowed no argument. "You have fifteen minutes. Freshen up and come downstairs to the lobby. I will be waiting. I've got a surprise for you."
Shafiyya blinked at him, confused and still half-asleep. "A surprise? At this time?" she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.
His jaw clenched faintly, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "You'll see," he said, slipping his watch onto his wrist without breaking eye contact. "Don't make me come back here for you, Shafiyya."
There was something in his voice—half warning, half promise—that sent a rush of nerves and curiosity through her. She nodded quickly, clutching the sheet closer as he gave her one last look before turning toward the door. The quiet click of it shutting behind him left her wide awake, heart thudding with anticipation.
What could he possibly be planning at four in the morning?
Shafiyya didn't have the luxury of time to shower. She rushed to the sink, brushed her teeth, splashed cold water on her face, and freshened up as quickly as she could. From the neatly folded clothes Arsh had bought her yesterday, she chose a soft denim top paired with baggy pants. She draped a white chiffon shawl lightly over her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear as her fingers trembled slightly with nerves.
Grabbing her phone, she stepped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her. The hotel hallway was silent, the air heavy with the quietness of dawn. By the time she reached the lobby, her eyes immediately landed on Arsh.
He was there, sitting on a sofa, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees—his posture tense, his jaw tight. He looked every bit the man who hated waiting. The moment his gaze caught hers, his expression shifted, the impatience in his eyes softening just a fraction.
Shafiyya walked toward him, and Arsh rose swiftly to his feet, his tall frame towering over her. Without a word, he moved beside her, his hand lightly guiding her elbow as he led her to the exit.
