The Tangled Love

𝟏𝟕. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲.

𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘒 𝘓𝘈𝘛𝘌𝘙 >

Time had flown, and now it was eight-thirty at night. The servants in Khan's mansion were busy with their usual tasks, careful not to make any disturbance in fear of their master, who was home.

❝Khafifa is a mystery, Fayra,❞ Aroosh said, his gaze fixed on the vast canvas attached to the grey wall. Fayra's grey eyes were captivated by its brilliance, her heart longing to paint. The canvas depicted a human and a reflection of a beast, beautifully composed.

❝Khafifa signifies light, a light to the darkest life,❞ Altamash added. The three of them stood near the art room, which was exclusively devoted to the arts by Khafifa. The room reflected Musa's obsession with the most expensive and prestigious art in the world.

The day had gone as usual, with Aroosh and Altamash eager to show Fayra the art room that Musa owned. She was astonished to see the various collections by Khafifa, each canvas exuding superiority and deep emotion.

❝Do you know who Khafifa is?❞ Altamash asked, his eyes meeting Fayra's as she continued to admire the art. Every corner of the room was filled with abstract pieces, and her eyes shone with happiness as she marveled at the masterpieces.

❝No, Altamash,❞ Fayra replied, looking at him with curiosity, eager to hear more. Her heart swelled with contentment as she glanced at the two men who were now her family. A winsome smile played at the corners of her beautiful cherry lips as she traced the canvas with her fingers, feeling the art beneath her thumb.

❝Khafifa is mysterious,❞ Altamash mused, his gaze shifting to the artwork. ❝The world has no idea who is truly behind this artwork. Years ago, there were only a few articles about Khafifa, and they said—❞ He paused as Fayra listened intently, absorbing every detail. Aroosh, his hands shoved into his pockets, kept his eyes on the art covering the walls.

Altamash continued, sharing more about Khafifa, while Fayra's astonishment grew. Her grey eyes gleamed with wonder as she soaked in the information.

❝Article 2018 stated that Khafifa runs with innocent people, a light to the world. Khafifa is no one, but it is found everywhere, for everyone.❞

❝Article 2013 claimed that Khafifa appears as light, never in human form,❞ Altamash added, his voice resonating through the luxurious room. Despite the articles, Khafifa's true identity remained a mystery, and no one had been able to uncover the person behind the art.

Fayra was astounded, mesmerized by the art and the enigma surrounding Khafifa. Each piece of art was unique, with its own elegance and mystery, unmatched by any other in history.

❝Why is Mr. Khan so smitten with it?❞ Fayra asked, confusion etched on her face. Her mind was swirling with questions, and she felt as if her own life was a maze that needed to be unraveled.

Aroosh glanced at Altamash, his lips curling at Fayra's question, searching for the right words to answer her.

Altamash remained silent, perhaps grappling with questions of his own.

❝Musa has a connection to Khafifa. He is a mystery himself. It's not easy to read his ocean-blue eyes, Fayra. He wasn't born a monster; he was made into one. He says Khafifa is a light, but we don't know much more,❞ Aroosh explained, suppressing a sigh, his eyes filled with compassion and respect as he looked at Fayra.

Fayra stood still, unable to breathe as his words echoed in her mind. ❝He wasn't born a monster,❞ her heart cried out. There was more to Musa Hassan Khan than he showed the world.

❝Then why does the world know him as Khafifa?❞ Fayra asked, walking toward another corner, where a massive canvas depicted a girl immersed in the ocean.

She could hear their footsteps following her, the silence in the room pressing down on her. Her mind replayed the events of that night—his bloody hands and his vulnerable cries still echoed in her ears. She muffled a broken breath, unaware that she felt a strange empathy for the monster.

Who was this man, Musa Hassan Khan?

Just the thought of him sent chills down her spine, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt exhausted, yearning to escape this world, but she knew she was a brave warrior. She would fight to find her place in this world, battling until her last breath.

❝Fayra, the first art produced by Khafifa was twelve years ago. At that time, the world didn't recognize it, but Musa did. He holds Khafifa close to his heart,❞ Altamash explained, leaving Fayra in utter shock. Her mind raced with questions and chaos, her dark grey eyes wide with fear.

❝Musa Hassan Khan isn't just a random business tycoon. He's more than that, Fayra,❞ Altamash whispered, watching her eyes, which were filled with countless questions he couldn't answer.

Fayra wandered out of the room, lost in thought as she walked through the hallways. Her mind was clouded, and the image of a pair of ocean-blue eyes danced before her. She held her heart, trying to catch her breath, screaming in her mind that there was no connection between them. She was so dazed that she didn't realize she was descending the large staircase.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a silent scream as she stumbled, nearly falling down the stairs. But before she could, someone grabbed her arm.

In an instant, she was pulled against a hard chest, her nose filling with a familiar cologne. Strangely, both her mind and heart found peace in his embrace, his scent bringing a sense of calm.

He held her tightly, dark emotions blazing in his ocean-blue eyes, his muscular arms encircling her waist as her face remained buried in his chest.

❝ Are you seeking refuge under my wing, darling?❞ he whispered menacingly in her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine. ❝If not, then step aside, for I have no room for deceit.❞

His voice, once music to her ears, now cut like a knife, reminding her of the agonizing week they'd spent apart. Yet, she yearned to decipher the secrets hidden in his eyes, depths that seemed darker than the ocean.

But his words snapped her back to the harsh reality. Her grey eyes widened with hatred, yet she was still searching for something in those ocean-blue eyes that seemed empty and emotionless—desolate.

He was here, after that night, Fayra's heart whispered. Her beast had not changed; he was back to his bipolar behavior, and she despised his presence.

She stood still, breathing heavily, while Musa left abruptly, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. This man didn't seem like the one who had trembled that night. This man appeared vicious and dominant.

Two souls, who claimed to loathe each other, yet found a bizarre connection and peace in each other's arms. Perhaps God had brought them together, not by accident, but to help each other find solace.

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