AASHIQUI : chain bhi..dard bhi

Chapter 23

FAISU

"Tera muh q sada hua h soundcheck k bd se" Faiz grunts. I bring the lighter to the end of my cigarette.

"Toh?"

"Toh kya toh u should be thankful of her usne bachalia tuje while you were outside making a phone call." Huffing, he plucks the cigarette from my mouth and stubs it out.

"Speaking of which, did you hear her voice? Kise pata tha vo itta acha gaati h yrr?" Something ugly and bitter tightens my chest. I did. My silence only spurs him on. "Look, man. I know her hanging with Zain has you—"

"I don't give a fuck about zain" Aside from his involvement with Jannat. I clench my hands until they become fists. The thought of them kissing on the other side of that wall makes me homicidal, and I won't even regret killing him. Bet if I slipped something lethal into his drink later, no one would suspect a thing. Just like that, guilt sinks its sharp claws into me. Haven't you killed enough people already, asshole?

Faiz looks at the broken whiskey bottle on the floor. "Acha ye bottle dekhkr lgta ni k tu jelous ni hai."

I flip him the bird. "I told you, jackass. It slipped out of my hand."

His stare rests on the large dent in the wall. "Right. Esi slip k sidha deewal se lgi hai na"

I'm about to kick him out, but there's a knock on the connecting door. Speak of the devil. "What?"

Jannat ambles in. She's never been exceptionally perky or anything, but her demeanor is more serious than usual. What's the matter, Muffin? Prince Charming's kissing technique not up to par?

"Kalp wanted me to tell you that your driver will be here at seven a.m. to pick you up for your interview on Saturday."

The driver will be here, but I won't. "Hard pass."

Jannat pinches the bridge of her nose. "Public relations comes with the territory of being a famous rock star. Agar tum iss trh cancel krte jaoge interviews and meets then you can say good bye to your nice bank account kyuki record label tumko fine krega for breaching contract"

"I don't give a fuck. They could fine me a million times and it still wouldn't make a dent in my bank account. Samji Muffin" I've got more money than I'll ever be able to spend in a single lifetime. Even after donating substantial sums of money to various charities every year.

Disgust scrunches her features. "Must be nice na, itna hara bhara bank account"

That's funny. Last I checked, she was well acquainted with the concept. "It is nice." Arms crossed, I stare her down. "Not like you wouldn't know, princess. Daddy placed you in your nice ivory tower and gave you everything you ever wanted, remember?" I relish the outrage on her face. "And don't you dare give me guilt trip jannat, ye meri mehnt k paise khud kamaye hai maine" In my peripheral, I see Faiz's eyes bounce between us. "Or tum maano na maano pr maine imandari se mehnat k hai apne iss saach ko hakikat bnane m."

She has no fucking idea. I've sold my soul to the goddamn devil to get where I am, and he doesn't take refunds or exchanges.

Those big brown eyes narrow in a vindictive stare, and she jabs a finger in my chest. "Yeah right, Ek esa sapna jo tumhare juth binaho pr bna hai. Ye sapna ni Gunah hai" She's like a baby shark who's just had her first taste of blood and wants more. Too bad I bite back.

Holding her waist, I pull her close. So close our noses touch. "Acha ye gunah or tumhara kya aadhe kapde pehnkr anjan mardo k bich naachna, even when u r fucking rich, vo kya hai MUFFIN, Bet daddy's so proud of you." The kill shot works because she goes silent. But I'm not done. Giving me shit about having money when she saw and knew the house I grew up in is a bad move. "Or not." I palm her cheek. "Come on, Muffin. Why'd daddy cut his precious daughter off?"