Chapter 12

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"What do you think Ainnie?" Mr. Musa inquired and turned to face Anissa. She swallowed—from her peripheral vision, she saw that Shehryaar had his cold eyes fixated on her and his hand was still resting in his waist.

Think carefully Ainnie. After this, there's no going back and if you defy him, he'll hurt your parents.

"I agree with whatever you want Abu." She muttered, her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as tears pricked her eyes. She saw Shehryaar pass her a smug smirk, his grey orbs shone with victory. His hand pushed down to his side and he visibly relaxed.

Anissa felt like she would break down at any moment and immediately requested her parents to take her home. But before she could leave, Shehryaar stopped her.

"My mother would like to meet with you." He told her. Mr. Musa and his wife left them in privacy. Anissa felt like a nervous wreck.

Slowly, she made her way to her old lady who was breathing though the gas mask. Shehryaar stood by her side and gently rubbed the old lady's back. "Are you feeling alright, Amma?" he inquired. She smiled, closing her eyes and patting his hand that was on her shoulder.

Amma? So she really is his mother.

"Jazak Allah," she muttered weekly. Her soft brown landed on the rigid figure of Anissa.

"Come closer bachay." She called gently. Anissa obeyed and sat beside the old woman, her head hanging low.

"Didn't I tell you Amma, my bride is certainly a woman of refined beauty." Shehryaar commented, his tone monotone yet filled with a hint of pride. Anissa felt his eyes on her face and she resisted the urge to scoff. He was treating her like a trophy he had won in a game.

Admiring me so shamelessly and that too in front of your mother? You really are awful Shehryaar Ghulari. And I have to spend the rest of my life with a despicable man like you.

She desperately wanted to say this to him but she controlled herself. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she felt the old woman's hand softly touch her chin. Her soft brown eyes studied Anissa was a while making her feel nervous.

"Mashaa Allah, my son is lucky to have you as his bride. May Allah bless you bachay." She said and immediately pulled the gas mask back on. Anissa blushed brightly.

"I'm so glad that he's finally settling down. It's such great news. I know that it would've made his mother and brother proud." She muttered through the mask.

Anissa frowned in confusion. Wait, mother and brother? So she isn't his real mother after all. Then why is he calling her Amma? And where is his real mother?

She wanted to conclude that Shehryaar used the old woman for his own personal gain but she couldn't deny the genuine concern that Shehryaar showed towards the ailing woman or the look of affection and motherly love that the old woman displayed towards the young man.

There were so many questions that she wanted to ask but refrained.

"Now Amma enough for today. Come, Zameer shall escort you back to your room." Shehryaar said, his tone so gentle that it made Anissa wondered why he couldn't be that gentle with her as well.

Zameer brought in a wheel chair and took the old lady out of the room.

The room was silent as Anissa sat there with flushed cheeks and unshed tears and Shehryaar closely stared at her.

"I should go now." She murmured softly and jumped to her feet. Shehryaar was back to his cold and stoic self. Moving fast, she made her way towards the door only to be pulled back by the wrist and collide against Shehryaar's chest.

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