𝕿here. It looked perfect. Professional and vague so it couldn't be held over me in court and stern enough to send a message. As I sat back in the seat, I shut my eyes and went over the words I'd committed to memory over the past three hours, making sure they sounded as clear and concise as they did on the email.
I had thought about his offer and as tempting as it sounded, it wasn't enough. Taimoor was a beast I could not afford to handle. He was a wild card. Someone out of my world. Besides, his motives were extremely suspicious and he was shrouded in mystery. I was under no false assumptions. I knew he didn't want me for me. He didn't want me for my body. He wanted me to control my father, which meant that he would threaten me to control him. And I could not live with a man who decided to mentally torture my family at any given moment. With Ghazanfar, I knew what to expect. I knew what he expected of me and I could play the part. I could tolerate his clinginess and his ego. I could do that for my parents. And he would take care of me. He would love me in his own twisted way.
I finally forced myself to sit at my desk and do some work, it was eleven o'clock and a new email from Taimoor was at the top of my inbox.
SUBJECT: Your Refusal.
I don't think so.
Taimoor Ali Haider Mughal
CEO, Mughal Co.
The audacity of this man.
SUBJECT: MY REFUSAL!!!
It's not up to you.
Daania Mansoor Khan
He didn't bother to send me a reply. My phone just lit up with a call from an unknown number. Typical.
"You're being unreasonable," the deep, stern timbre of his voice made it impossible to ignore the clenching of my stomach muscles.
"On the contrary, I'm being completely reasonable."
"Name the amount."
"I'm sorry?"
"You will be. Name the amount."
"Are you insane?" rage and loathing spread through me like wildfire, incinerating all things like composure and rationality."I'm not a thing you can hire. Not some girl you can pick up off the street. You've already played with my self-respect once, why do you insist on doing that again and again? What is even wrong with you? Haven't you had enough?"
"Ms. Mansoor-"
"No, I've had it with you. You couldn't even give me the decency of refusing this. Why are you so hell-bent on marrying me?"
"You're a smart girl, I'm sure you've figured out the why," he said curtly. I didn't bother with a reply. "I knew it. I'm not buying you Ms. Mansoor, I'm giving you assurance. This is a partnership. I will never force you into this agreement."
"No, you'll coerce me."
"Semantics," God he really was an asshole. I was still spluttering my dissent when he continued."Whatever you want. It doesn't have to be money. What do you want?" I'd never before considered the term 'puppet master' as applicable to anyone I knew. No more. This man was a total control freak. A crying shame he was so damned desirable though.
"I don't want anything," I imagined the tick in his jaw at my words, the irritation in his eyes. I hated how I could so easily visualize the man who was cruel to me and the little nuances that had trapped themselves in the recesses of my brain."Read the room."
"You considered the offer. Where did I fall through?"
"Don't you have something else to do?"
"See how important this is?"
"You were the one who called."
"For damn good reason. Do I need to help you understand your job description Ms. Mansoor? Stop being evasive. Why did you step back?" it wasn't a request, and his order made me squirm inside my skin
"Please help me find the clause where it says I have to put up with the boss's assholery twenty-four seven."
"I believe that falls under clause three."
"You're-"
"Waiting for your answer," he drawled. "Ms. Mansoor we can do this all night. If you hang up I'll just call you again. You fail to pick up or turn your phone off, I will show up to your house. So the sooner you act like an adult, the sooner we can resolve this."
Damn him and his threats. I didn't want to act like an adult. I was done being the responsible one and thinking about everyone.
"There's nothing to resolve," I rasped.
His voice softened marginally, picking up on my mood."I've known you for two months, I've compromised on my position for you, the least you can do is give me an honest answer."
"You'll destroy my family," I replied, unsure of what else to say. The softer voice of Taimoor was scary. Uncharted territory. Disarming. He was at war with me and my family, but this felt like an overture toward a truce.
"You're worried about them?"
"Yes, you'll use me to influence my father and his business and I don't like that," I felt like I'd been injected with truth serum—or whatever that stuff was where I felt compelled to answer him. "Hello?" I asked when the silence became too much.
"I'm here. What if I let you run your father's business? Started the transition and gave it to you at the halfway mark? Will that ease your doubts?"
"That would only ensure my loyalty to you. It doesn't guarantee his safety."
"You're still defending him?"
My voice came out small. "He's my father."
"Interesting," his voice was entirely without inflection. "Very well, your family will be safe from me-"
"No throwing anyone in jail."
"No one will be thrown in jail. Is that all?"
"Will you still pay the debt?"
"Every single penny."
"The stuff from the contract? The stock options?"
"All yours."
"None of this is worth anything to you, right? This is just a single drop in that ocean of yours?" thankfully, he chose not to answer that. "As long as your earlier offer stands, the part where you take back the case, don't threaten my family, give me the business and pay off our debts and that I walk away in September, I agree to your proposal."
"You didn't ask for anything."
"What's there to ask?"
"You haven't asked about the marriage and what it entails," his question shattered my daze. My breathing became shallow. I muffled a gasp as every molecule of my body went on high alert. "Consider this a gesture of goodwill, Ms. Mansoor, and a lesson for the future. Always ask for more."
"And fall flat on my face? No, thank you."
"That's the obidient desi girl in you. You're afraid of taking risks. Tell me, if I had offered you this marriage in normal circumstances, how would you have reacted?" my swallow echoed in my ears. I wouldn't lie to him and say that the question never crossed my mind. I'd wondered if this was one more of my failings or simply my twisted fate. I thought about it so hard and tried to complicate and analyze it so much, but when it came down to it, the truth was always simple.
"These aren't normal circumstances and there will always be a huge imbalance of power."
"I'm trying to treat this as a partnership. Partnerships are formed on an equal basis."
"Yet you're getting more than I ever would," I grumbled under my breath.
"Consequences of the position I'm in. Besides, you haven't asked for more. Your sole focus is on the survival of your family. The survival of your father's legacy. You haven't asked me one thing for yourself. What do you want? What does a girl at the prime of her life, want?"
"I'm not a selfish person."
"Oh, but you are. You are and you know it. I bet it's eating you from the inside. The little nagging voice of rebellion that wants to show everyone their place. That bitterness slowly eats away at you, burning fueling the anger. Tell me, did you not feel betrayed by your parents and their financial incompetence?" he bombarded me with questions to advance his position so I flooded the moat and pulled up the drawbridge. I did everything to stop him from getting inside my head."Don't you want to teach them a lesson? Show them how bad you were hurt? How your life's plans were derailed because of them?" I winced.
That was the emotion he wanted me to feel— the one I was trying to run from. I should have starved and secluded myself all day rather than listen to everything he was throwing at me. All the anger. All the hurt. All the longing came flooding out.
I blinked back tears, and I wrapped my arms across my chest to try to stop the bitter cold from seeping through my clothes. "Is that how this would be? You poisoning me? Manipulating me?"
"Just shining the light on the truth. There's a darkness inside you. It is time you acknowledged that."
"As if you care," I let out with a sad laugh, wringing the neck of the dark wispy shadows that stirred to life, emboldened and strengthened by his words.
"I don't. Now, your terms for our marriage Ms. Mansoor. I'd like to have the contract ready by tonight. I'll email it to you. You can sign the paper version when my sister comes to your house on Friday. She already has a version of our story ready to go for the press. I'll forward that to you as well. You can use that to break the news to your family."
Clutching my fist to my chest, I tried to squeeze back the torrent of emotions that were crashing over me. My defenses came rushing up and I decided to push back.
"Is it a whirlwind romance?"
"Nothing as salacious as that. Now your terms," his voice was soft, a touch on the wicked side of sexy and I felt a sudden quiver.
"Yeah no one would accuse you of that," I shot back. Silence echoed one again and I smiled in victory. "I'd like some distance."
"Not possible. We're supposed to make several appearances throughout the year. We'd have to sell the marriage to the ton and the board of governors. You flinching away from me or acting as if we're never been in each other's company for more than two hours is not going to cut it," I stopped breathing altogether. Embarrassed. Touched. Attracted.
"Fine. There will be no physical contact."
"Except for public displays of affection."
"That's-"
"Necessary."
"We'll have separate bedrooms."
"Done. You'll have your own wing."
"There will be no interference from you in my life."
"Can not promise that."
"You have to."
"I will do my best not to be involved," there was that cool voice again, different now – distant. He was impossible to read. "Anything else?"
"I'll continue with my job."
"You'll receive a monthly allowance, you don't need a job."
"I want my own money," I whispered, my voice hoarse with all the emotions he'd made me face. This man was an enigma.
"That will be your money."
"Can you at least let me have this one thing?"
"Fine, you can continue with your job, but you'll be moved to my floor. I don't want you with the rest of them."
I rolled my eyes. Why was he such a prick? "The rest of them are your employees."
"And you'll be my wife. You stay with me, on my floor."
"How am I supposed to work then? If I'm constantly going up and down the elevator?"
"Video call them. You're going to be a Mughal, you'll have your office on my floor."
"That's excessive."
"Get used to it. What else?"
"Don't you have anything to add?"
"I expect us to be honest with each other. I expect you to accept the gifts, the clothes, the jewelry and whatever damn thing is needed and ordered for you. I don't want a single outcry about the wardrobe or the events. I expect you to be by my side at all times and to get me that position."
"That's all?" my sarcasm wasn't lost on him but he moved on as if I hadn't said anything.
"Be the model wife Ms. Mansoor and you'll get more than all. You'll get everything."
Groaning, my head fell into my hands as I took a deep breath. I was going to regret this, I knew it. He was going to destroy me and I wouldn't stop him. I shook my head, taking a deep breath before I rambled myself into territory I couldn't come back from. "You have a deal."
༻✺༺
Waking up the next morning, I'd debated about how I would drop this bomb on my family. Fortunately for me, I'd been greeted with breakfast and the information that my mom had scheduled a grand dinner to celebrate my impending nuptials on Friday. And this was the point in the morning where the well of feelings overflowed and my family sat back in shocked silence, listening to the massive turn their lives would be taking.
"Daania," my mom begged, her voice hoarse from her tears. "Please, tell me you're joking. I-I'm shaking. I might pass out," her hand flew to her forehead as she leaned against the doorframe for support. "I might faint. I'm feeling very lightheaded."
She was being overly dramatic about it. Even though she lived with my dad, even if she was the rational one, it didn't take away from the fact that my mother unlike my father, cared, albeit too much, about feelings.
"I don't understand," Baba said, his voice thick as he tried to handle my mother and her emotions. "Nazia get her a glass of water. What are you saying Daania? Taimoor? I told you to stay away from him! What am I going to tell Haseena? What about Ghazanfar?"
"You said you wouldn't force me, Baba. Remember?"
"I also asked you to stay away from him."
"Yeah well, that was kind of impossible," I grumbled, then sucked in a sharp breath.
I hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"Is he forcing you? Is he threatening you? Because if he is I won't let him live."
I shook my head. "No. It's not like that. I just-" what had Zeenia's brief said? Oh yeah. "-found common interests with him. We clicked."
"But he threatened to sue us, he threw your father in jail!" my mom gushed, cupping her hands over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Baba flinched. He didn't like things that were loud or unexpected. And my mother was extremely loud and unexpected. This was taking a toll on his mental health.
"He's promised to take the case back."
"Are you in love with him? Is that it?"
Mama's eyes widened in shock, face whipping around to look at me at Baba's question, her fingers clutched around his. Well if anything, this whole debacle was going to save their marriage."Is that true? Is that it?"
My lips thinned, but I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"Oh my God," Baba crumpled onto the chair, his gaze vacant, his expression frighteningly empty.
"Please say something," I asked, kneeling in front of him.
"I'm shocked. Is he going to forgive our debts too?" I nodded and his eyes narrowed with understanding. "Are you sure of this?" I nodded again, giving him my best brave smile. "Huh."
"Huh? What do you mean huh? We gave Haseena our word Mansoor," a sound erupted from Baba's chest, too cruel and bleak to be considered a laugh.
"No, we told her we'd think about it. And if our daughter has an alternative offer, from someone she prefers, then why not?"
"Think about it. What will the family say? What will people say?"
"I doubt they'll say anything. The Mughals have an influential PR team," he answered dryly. "When should we expect them Daania?"
"Tomorrow, at eight," I choked out, bewildered by the turn of events.
"It's not even his mother! Only his sister. How can she marry into a family that doesn't even want her?"
I placed my hands on my mother's shoulders, using a placating tone. "They're out of the country Mama and it's a matter of urgency. We can have the Nikkah in a week or so and they'll be there for the reception."
"Matter of urgency my foot. Who doesn't show up for their son's nikkah ceremony?" she mumbled under her breath, walking out the door, her walk still a little unsteady.
Nazia came to life, her jaw finally leaving the floor. "Really Daania? You had to go for Taimoor Mughal? Of all the people..."
"Was this your idea?" she blanched at Baba's words and he smacked a frustrated hand on the table. "Of course it was you."
"I was just trying to help."
"Let me talk to your sister."
"But-"
"Go," I must have had a terrified look on my face because he set his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, concern wiping his expression clean. "I expect you to be honest with me Daania. None of us planned to be in this mess and I'm sorry for being-," I cringed at his words, not wanting the apology. "For being absent, it's... I can't help it sometimes-"
"It's okay Baba. I understand."
"No, you don't beta. You can't. Not until you have children of your own. There's so much that I wanted to do and to say and now I just feel like I've lost it... as if it's all disappeared from my head."
"Have you been taking your medicines?"
"The medicines don't cure the guilt. I know you blame me. I know you blame your mother. We've made mistakes, but that doesn't mean you should make one too. That doesn't mean you should make deals with him."
"I-" what was I supposed to say to that? I stared at him, bracing for how he'd respond to my actions. He didn't look irritated, though. Sadness swept into his eyes and was quickly blinked away. He shifted in his chair, visibly uncomfortable with showing emotion.
"I'm not going to ask you if what you're doing is right. I know you think it's right. You'll always be my little girl and I trust you, you're an adult. But as a parent, I have to ask. Is this what you want? Whatever you say, I'll believe you. Is it worth it? Is it worth losing your freedom?"
"Marriage itself is a loss of freedom."
"Taimoor will destroy you. He's ruthless. He won't stop until he gets what he wants. The White Rose is just the start. You help him in this and he'll rope you in with something else. He will never let us live. He'll never let you go. Would you still go through with this?"
I nodded as a shiver snaked up my spine, his threat coming back to haunt me.
I will own you.
Why did that feel less like a threat and more like a promise?
Daania's email to Taimoor.
༻✺༺
Okay, people. First of all (before anyone decides to pick up a stake) this is extremely natural. He's not a good guy. She's marrying the man who's destroying her family. Of course, there's a need to be concerned. She doesn't trust him. Would you?
(Leave the hormones out of this).
Secondly, parents are still parents. They're not our enemies. They're humans who can make mistakes and can be misguided. What did you think of Mansoor Sahab's progression?
Now, thoughts, comments, feedback 😄
The next update is on Saturday, if you're nice (if this has a lot of comments and lovely feedback) you might get an early chapter 😉 It has the actual wedding. It has a 'SCENE'. It's very loooong. And it's ready to go ✨
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