Sultan:Her Desired Man(18+)

Unconditional ~

The chaos had exploded. Sultan's main housekeeper—the one Mishti had clocked with the vase—had taken a serious turn for the worse and was hospitalized immediately. It was bad.

Up in the presidential wing, the family was waiting. The housekeeper's wife and daughter were absolute messes, sobbing and pleading at Sultan's feet. They weren't just asking for justice; they were begging for a life.

Sultan stood there, looking utterly calm, but inside he was pissed and agonized. The whole world was burning because of Mishti running from him.

He looked down at the hysterical family. His voice was low and deadly quiet. "You will get justice." He looked them dead in the eye. "Even if Mishti is my wife, I will make sure she is punished."

The air in the room dropped ten degrees.

Zubair, standing nearby, felt a tremor of pure fear. Mishti was dead meat if Sultan found her in this state. He was silent now, his face unreadable, his shadow stretching across the wall. He looked like Iblis himself in the dim light.

Zubair swallowed hard."Sultan.....when you get her back just don't be a bitch."

But Sultan remained standing there. His lips were pressed into a tight, hard line. He didn't blink nor move.

"Sultan, say something," Zubair pleaded, shaking his head slightly. "Your silence is scaring the hell out of me.You never remain so calm like this."

The silence was the answer. It was terrifying. It meant the decision was already made.

Meanwhile,Baseer was already hunting. He was cruising the highways with a few men, following every lead. Mishti, on the other hand, was frantic. She'd managed to hop on a random bus, just trying to put distance between herself and the consequences.

But she couldn't outrun the Godfather's reach. The bus suddenly pulled over to a routine checkpoint. Too late, she saw Baseer and his men swarming the area. She was caught instantly.

She sat silently in the back seat of the car, her hands shaking, her mind racing. Then, she looked over at Baseer, her eyes full of desperate tears.

"Baseer Bhai, please,"she whispered, the tears finally starting to fall. "Please, don't take me to him. He will kill me. Please."

Baseer looked disappointed, his face grim. "Bhabi," he said, using the respectful term, but the tone was cold. "What you have done... it shouldn't have been done."

She leaned forward, pleading. "Let me go! He will kill my child! Please, Baseer, he will take the baby!"

Baseer gripped the steering wheel tight. "Defying Sultan at this moment is equal to betraying the Godfather," he stated, making the stakes absolutely clear.

Mishti broke. She started to cry, silent, racking sobs that shook her entire body. He felt instantly uneasy. He had no idea how to comfort crying women. He awkwardly reached out and placed a large, gentle hand on her head.

Just then, his phone started bombarding him—Sultan's number flashing relentlessly, demanding an update. Baseer looked down at the crying woman beside him, her face tear-streaked and hopeless.

He took a deep breath, removed his hand, and answered the phone. "Sultan," he said, his voice flat. "I have her."

The confirmation from Baseer wasn't even needed; the sheer finality in Baseer's quick report on the phone said it all. Sultan's head snapped up, and he drilled Zubair with a look of pure,cold vengeance. Zubair instantly knew the game was over: She's captured.

Sultan didn't walk; he bolted toward the main exit, moving with the terrifying focus of a missile heading straight for the 'culprit.'

Zubair scrambled to intercept him. "Sultan, wait up! You need to chill the hell out! Think about the baby, man!"