My Beast

Forced Marriage ultimatum!

Haroon carried Hafsa to his mansion and carefully placed her on the bed in his room. Leaving her there, he went to make arrangements to marry her as soon as possible.

One Hour Later:

Hafsa slowly opened her eyes and realized she was in an unfamiliar place. As the events of the past hour came rushing back to her, she panicked and attempted to get out of bed. Just as she was about to stand, the door opened and Haroon entered, carrying shopping bags.

Hafsa's POV:

I was trying to leave the room when the door swung open, and a man walked in with shopping bags. He was smiling, but I was too terrified to meet his eyes. Despite the fear clawing at me, I forced myself to stay composed and asked him:

Hafsa: "Wh-Who are you? And why am I here?"

Haroon: "Oh, my apologies for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Haroon, your soon-to-be husband. Nice to meet you, future wife."

Hafsa: "What? No! How can we get married? I'm engaged! I have to go back—my parents, Humair—they're probably looking for me!"

Her voice cracked as tears filled her eyes. She began yelling, but when she mentioned Humair's name, Haroon's expression darkened. His eyes turned cold with barely restrained anger.

Haroon: "You can leave, but only after marrying me. Then you're free to go. Now stop crying and change into this dress. You have 20 minutes. Don't make me repeat myself—you know you can't leave until I allow it. As for this marriage, you'll have to agree because your so-called love, Humair, is under my control. Here, take a look."

He pulled out his phone and showed her a video of Humair tied to a chair, struggling against his restraints. Hafsa's heart dropped as she saw Humair's condition. Before she could snatch the phone away, Haroon pulled it back.

Haroon: "You have two minutes to decide. If it's a 'no,' be ready to see Humair's dead body."

The threat left her paralyzed with fear. She couldn't think straight, knowing that he was a dangerous man. Just as she was lost in her thoughts, Haroon's voice snapped her back to reality.

Hafsa: "I'll do it... for Humair. Okay."

Haroon: "Good. You have 18 minutes."

Hafsa: "But—"

Haroon: "But what?"

Hafsa: "If I marry you, will you let him go? Will you let me leave too?"

Haroon: "Yes. But now you have 15 minutes left. Stop wasting time, or it'll be your fault if you end up staying here longer."

Haroon left the room, knowing that if he stayed, she would only keep talking and delay things further.

Hafsa was torn, but in the end, she changed into the dress and came out within 10 minutes, ready for what felt like her doom.

Haroon, noticing her arrival, walked over and instructed her to cover her head and face with her dupatta. He took her hand firmly and led her to the living room.

Hafsa tried to pull her hand away, but Haroon's grip was tight. He made her sit on the sofa and pulled out his phone.

Haroon: "Farhad, send the Moulvi in."

Hafsa's heart sank when she saw the Moulvi enter. Her mind was racing with thoughts of her parents, Humair, and how she'd explain this nightmare to them. Tears filled her eyes as she silently prayed for help, begging Allah to save her from this monster. But the situation felt hopeless, and she continued crying.

Haroon: "Say the words, Hafsa."

Hafsa: "Huh?"

The Moulvi repeated the question, asking if she accepted Haroon as her husband. She looked at Haroon, whose cold, angry eyes dared her to refuse. With trembling lips and a heavy heart, she closed her eyes and accepted the nikkah.

Haroon did the same, but his eyes held a strange satisfaction, as though everything had fallen into place.

After the cleric finished praying for the couple and left, Haroon turned to Hafsa.

Haroon: "Congratulations, love. You're my wife now. Mine."

Hafsa: "Why? Why did you do this? I don't even know you, and yet all this has happened."

Haroon: "Hmm... I saw you and got attracted. I don't know if it's love or something else, but I want you. I want to be the first to see what you're hiding beneath those layers of clothes. I want to—"

Thud!

Hafsa slapped Haroon hard across the face. It didn't physically hurt him much, but it took him by surprise. He hadn't expected that.

Hafsa: "How disgusting! I knew you were a monster—a beast, a devil!"

Haroon: "Thank you for the compliment, wife."

Grabbing her arms tightly, he pulled her closer.

Haroon: "You're my wife now. I'm letting you go back to your house because I promised you, and there's some work I need to take care of. But remember this—you belong to me now. One day, I'll come for you. Until then, stay away from that so-called love of yours. If you don't, I'll make sure he's far away from you—permanently."

Hafsa understood the underlying threat.

Haroon: "You can leave, but make sure you answer all my calls and be a good wife. If it weren't for this work, I would've claimed all my husbandly rights right now. But patience isn't such a bad thing, or so I've heard. My driver will drop you off."

Hafsa quickly ran back to the room, changed into her old clothes, and came out. Haroon noticed and asked why she changed.

Hafsa: "I'll do as you say, just stay away from my loved ones. I'll wait until you come for me, but until then, our nikkah stays hidden. If you agree, I'll leave now."

Haroon chuckled. He found her defiance almost endearing.

Haroon: "Fine by me, but you better keep your word. If not, you can't imagine what kind of beast I can be."

He took a step closer, and she instinctively stepped back.

Haroon: "Stop. You can go. I'll talk to you tonight at 10."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then told her to leave. Hafsa ran out as fast as she could, feeling like she'd suffocate if she stayed a minute longer. Haroon watched her leave with a smile, amused by her innocence.

As they both went their separate ways, Haroon felt victorious, like he had just conquered something significant. Meanwhile, Hafsa was convinced this nikkah was nothing more than part of his twisted game. She resolved to hide it and continue loving Humair, all while plotting her way out of this mess.