The Mafia Boss's Bride

Chapter 70 : Cockroach

Prof. Syed lounged in his office and an unsettling grin stretched across his face. Jessica had carried out her assignment with precision – planting hidden cameras in the bathroom of Farah's shared apartment. Now he sat in his leather chair, swirling a glass of liquor as he prepared to savor the fruits of his devious plan.

With a deliberate click, he initiated the laptop and revealed the intimate lives of Zeba, Noor, Mahi, and Farah. Each clips captured their intimate moments. Sipping from his glass, Prof. Syed couldn't resist the temptation to replay the videos on his laptop. The scenes unfolded before him, revealing the unsuspecting individuals going about their daily routines—showering, an act usually reserved for the utmost privacy, now laid bare on the screen.

The distorted satisfaction on his face intensified as he immersed himself in the invasive footage. Droplets of water, falling down their bare skin, became a twisted form of pleasure for him.

Now, he contemplated the various sinister paths he could tread with the compromising footage. "Blackmail," he whispered to himself, relishing the word. The idea of manipulating their lives, forcing them to dance to his whims, brought a sadistic pleasure. Prof. Syed imagined the fear in their eyes as he dangled the threat of exposure over them, each move dictated by his sinister commands.

"But why stop there?" he pondered, his mind spiraling into more sinister territories. He could take a more sinister route by uploading the videos onto adult websites, exposing their privacy for the world to see. 

"Ah, the sweet taste of control," he murmured to himself. The sheer thrill of ruining their lives, their reputations tarnished forever, fueled his dark desires. Imagining the fallout, the shattered reputations, and the public disgrace fueled his twisted pleasure. He was not looking like a normal person at that time. It was like - he was a alien or someone else. 

Then, another devilish idea struck him – why not both? A devious smile played on his lips as he considered the ultimate concoction – a dual assault of blackmail and public humiliation. "The perfect storm," he whispered.

...

The hotel room embraced the tranquility of a rainy day, with the curtain-draped window blocking the sunlight's attempt to infiltrate. The soft glow of lights added a touch of warmth. Raindrops tapped gently on the window, adding a rhythmic melody to the room.

Ava, stirred from her sleep, felt a twinge of pain in her injured hand. Slowly opening her eyes, she found Ibrahim sitting on the bed. He was tenderly changing the bandage.

In front of Ava, Ibrahim was looking so calm and soft - as if nothing happened last night. As if, he didn't kill a person last. There was no guilt in his face. Though Ava didn't know any activities of last night. 

As Ibrahim worked on the bandage, he spoke to Ava with a soothing tone, "Wake up, baby girl, it's noon."

Ava blinked, adjusting to the awareness that it was already midday. She inquired, "It's noon now?"

Ibrahim replied, "It is, dear. Now wake up; you didn't eat dinner last night."

Once the bandaging was complete, Ava sat up while yawning. Her gaze wandered toward the sofa. But it was seemed was not broad enough for Ibrahim's tall frame. Ava looked at Ibrahim. He was dressed in - white shirt and black trousers. 

She asked, "Did you spend the night on the sofa?"

Ibrahim smiled, "Yes, baby girl.... But if you have no objections, then I can sleep on the bed with you starting tonight."

And Ava's mouth fell open, "Yes, yes. I have problems. I have many problems. I'll take the sofa tonight; you can claim the bed."

Ibrahim smiled at Ava's playful response. He rose up from the bed and placed the first-aid kit in the drawer. Under his breath, he mused, "Don't know when the day will come when I can sleep with her in one bed."