YOU BELONG TO ME

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN : PANACEA

Good Morning lovies 🌄.

How is the holiday ? Bored or exciting ?

Sha , ignore the typos.......

I was feeling happy and generous, so i decided to surprise you guys with a double update but unfortunately wattpad deleted the chapter nineteen . And right now , I am so frustrated that I don't even want to write another one. But sha manage this.

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"Waiyyo Allah, I am so tired, wallah," Roohina kvetched for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

"Can't you keep quiet for once?" Ashmaan snapped, irritation clear in his voice.

"Yeah," Roohina replied nonchalantly, as though his annoyance didn't matter, flipping on the television in the sprawling main living room.

They had just returned from their tour, and true to Ashmaan’s word, the villa was nothing short of palatial. Five massive floors, each serving a specific purpose, sprawled before them like a modern-day castle.

The first floor housed an impressive array of luxuries: a state-of-the-art kitchen, a gym, a theater, an indoor swimming pool, and no less than four living rooms.

The second floor was primarily residential, boasting bedrooms, en-suite bathrooms, and cozy living areas complemented by two expansive balconies.

The third floor, situated below the first, was a hub of indulgence and utility. It featured a spa room, a salon, a massage room, a sauna, a library, a study, a sports arena, a cold storage unit, a CCTV control room, a storage area, and even a safety room stocked with an arsenal of weapons and tools for protection.

The fourth floor was the basement, shrouded in mystery and seldom visited. As for the fifth floor? “It’s just there,” Ashmaan had said dismissively, brushing off Roohina’s curiosity and insisting it wasn’t worth her time. Reluctantly, she had let the matter drop.

Now, flipping through channels, Roohina switched from the droning news on TVC to the drama-filled Star Plus. With a sigh, she sauntered into the kitchen, retrieving the remnants of her chocolate fudge and ice cream—gifts from Aamanee as a token of gratitude for saving their lives.

When she returned to the living room, she was met with an unwelcome sight: Ashmaan glued to the television, engrossed in a football match.

She hissed under her breath, plopping onto the couch. Without hesitation, she grabbed the spare remote—he’d hidden the main one—and changed the channel.

"Change it back," he demanded, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Ignoring him, she shrugged and continued eating her fudge.

"Did you hear what I said?" he repeated, his voice tinged with warning.

Once again, she gave no response.

Fury sparked in his eyes as he stood abruptly, snatched the fudge from her hands, and hurled the box to the ground. Before she could react, he dragged her to the nearest wall, his grip firm.

"Never. Ignore. Me. Again. Understood?" His tone was venomous, each word punctuated by a deadly calm.

Wide-eyed, Roohina nodded quickly.

"Words, Roohina. Fucking words." He slammed his hand against the wall for emphasis.

"I-I understand," she stammered, blinking back tears. Roohina loathed waste, especially of food. She couldn’t help but think about the countless people struggling to find their next meal, while here, anger seemed to justify destruction.