Zara's POV
The tearing sound of wheels echoes in the surrounding when I kick the brakes hard with my feet. I verify the location on my phone to make sure I have come to the right place. I peek from the above of my brown sunglasses at the huge mansion situated in front of me, still unsure rather surprised at he has his office in his house. I shove the phone inside of my handbag and get out of the car. A soothing breeze wavers my clothes pulling me an unusual calming feeling although my mind is still tensed.
The building is all marble white, with a long hallway. A magnificent swimming pool hooks my attention. I walk up to the main entrance where the only guard of duty is dozing off. I take off my sunglasses and clear my throat in a way to tell the lazy guard my presence. He rapidly opens his eyes and stands up in a panic.
"How may I help you, Ma'am?" he asks soon getting back to normal.
"My name is Zara Khawar. I am here to see Mr. Wajahat. Can you lead me to his office?" I ask with a stout tone.
"Have you taken the appointment from him?" he ask. I sigh angrily.
"No, I am the daughter of his friend Khawar Baig and Mr. Wajahat himself has asked me to meet him. Now can I know where he is?" I explain trying hard to keep a smile.
"Sorry he hasn't told me about you and I can't let you enter without an appointment."
I grit my teeth in disdain. I take a deep breath and clutch my fingers in a fist. I was about to say something when his phone rings. There is only yes, okay from him with a few glances at me from time to time.
"Sorry for the inconvenience Ma'am, I'll take you to his office, " he apologetically says and starts walking ahead of me. I shake my head in annoyance. You don't have to boil my blood.
I permit extra air to pass into my lungs by breathing hardly with hands on my hips when we finally reach his office. If I had an idea that his office is on exactly the other side of the house, I would have come directly there. According to the guard, the entrance from earlier is the way to their house.
I knock the glass door slightly with my knuckles while wiping the sweat off my forehead. The same breeze which was feeling refreshing when I get there has now poured out the salty water from my body. I open the door when a faint come in resonates into my hearing. The sudden change of temperature with a dull yet pleasant smell welcome me. The inside has small glass shelves on the corners on which many files are place. The room is spacious with an office table place in the front. The wall right behind the table has a portrait of Quaid E Azam.
A middle-aged man stands up as soon as I enter. He is bald with a small beard. He is in a three-piece suit. So he is Mr. Wajahat. I haven't once seen him although Dad has a pleasant friendship with him. I greet him with a smile.
"I'm glad you have come. Have a seat, " he points towards the leather chair in front of him. I settle on the chair after a while.
"What should I order for you, tea or something cold?" He asks once he occupies the comfortable chair in front of me again.
"No thank you, Uncle, I am good, " I reply while maintaining a smile.
"No, you have come first time here. Let me order tea for you then, " he says while lifting the telephone in front of him. After he has said what he wanted to, he opens the drawer of the table. My brows furrow in confusion when he comes up with a pink colored file.
"Look, Zara. You have to listen to whatever I am going to tell you with a relaxed and calm mind."
Now he is making me worried. What he has to tell me? My forehead crease in concern more when he takes out a black file from the same drawer earlier. He forwards the pink file to me which I grab after a while with a questioning look in my eyes.
"Look at it, " he says with a straight face that it's tough for me to comprehend anything with his expressions. I open the file with trembling hands.
"It was Khawar's will, perhaps made about three years earlier from now and it has the appropriate beneficiaries and bequests. He has left most of his shares for you and others are for needy people. The property of your biological father which has inherited to Khawar due to your underage was on your name in this will. "
I swipe the pages of the file which are agreeing with whatever he is saying. Then what is the problem? He pushes the black file ahead toward my direction.
"Now have a look at it."
I open the new file and my eyes widen in disbelief at what is written on the white pages in front of me.
"Your father has made a new will with a completely different executor, not me and from what I have got to know, the only thing which he has gone to you is the fourth out of sixth part of of your biological father's share, your mother's property, Khawar's own property, and remaining all shares of your real father are named to someone else who I don't know, " he states.
I look up at him in mistrust. How can something like that happen?
"I just get informed this that the testament I have is now invalid. I have doubt that he has married someone else secretly and..." he says with sadness in his voice.
"This can't be true. You are lying, how could Dad do something like this. He can't do this to his own brother."
I yell while standing up. Tears start welling up in my eyes. I can still hear Mr. Wajahat calling my name but my feet are not allowing me to look back at him. I rush out of his office. I can't believe this although it's true. Dad will turn against my real father, his brother. He even gives my parents' personal property too. Why he has fake love for me then all of these years.
A throbbing pain arises on the left side of my cheat all the way to my left arm and shoulder. I still have to go all the way from here to reach the other side of the house but the pain in my chest doesn't allow me to move further. With my face all teary, I bend on my knees with hand on my chest. Suddenly my mind sparkle, I have medicine in my bag. I pull the bag in front which gets behind due to my running. I was about to unzip it when with a push, I fall on the ground and someone snatches the bag from me. With the intensity of pain, my mouth is even unable to shout. The guy looks here and there and when he spots no one, he runs away.
I sigh helplessly. What should I do now? I can die like this. I have even lost the strength to stand up. Every intensity increase in my pain is giving me an idea that my dream from the morning is true.
"Hey, what's wrong?" I hear a deep, husky voice near me. I look up with my quivering eyelids. Before I could recognize him, my eyesight goes blurry.
"Zara."
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Assalam o Alaikum guys! How are you? Do you like this update? Who do you think has come in the end, even knows the name of Zara? Do you have any guess? Don't forget to vote and comment. ❤