Sultan:Her wanted husband (18+)

Forbidden frenzy

Mishti's POV

I stared at the sky, feeling a mix of emotions. I wished I was a bird, free to fly away from all my troubles. But I'm not a bird, I'm just me, Mishti.

I glanced at Sadafa, who was sitting next to me with her eyes closed. She looked so peaceful, like she was meditating or something. I was like, "Dafa, aren't you scared?" And she was all, "Death is the ultimate reality of life, Mishti. If you're born, you're bound to die. Embrace it, naturally."

I rolled my eyes, thinking she was just saying that because she was in shock. But then I looked at Sultan, who was sitting across from us. He had saved us, rescued us from those weirdos who had kidnapped us.

I felt a pang of guilt, remembering how we had lied to him and snuck off on our own. We had been so stupid, thinking we could outsmart him. But in the end, he was the one who had saved us.

#Flashback#

I fell asleep surrounded by flowers. I was too exhausted to think about who could have sent them or why. All I knew was that they were beautiful, and they made me feel special.

The next morning, I met Sadafa at the breakfast table, and I couldn't help but gush about the flowers. "They're pretty, right?" I said, expecting her to agree. "They did a good job with that."

But instead of agreeing,she scrunched up her face in confusion. I continued, "Next time I come here, it will be with Sultan and our baby." I affectionately touched my womb.
"You kicked Momma a lot last night," I whispered. "I think you don't like living apart from your daddy. Or maybe you don't like that mummy lied to daddy?"

"Whoa, whoa, Misti, wait... what flowers?" she asked, her spoon paused mid-air.

"The flowers in our bedroom," I replied. "Didn't you see the hotel souvenir?"

She shook her head, spooning her soup again. "I found the souvenir, but there were no flowers."

I pressed her, insisting that my room was full of flowers. "You should come and see," I said.

She followed me to my room, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the floral arrangements. We looked at each other, communicating silently. It was as if we were thinking the same thing: who could have sent these flowers, and why?

I remember the look on her face, the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity. I remember the way the flowers filled the room with their sweet scent, making me feel loved and cherished.

But most of all, I remember the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach.

As we stood in my hotel room, surrounded by the gazillion flowers, Sadafa turned to me with a sly grin. "Remember,you were telling me about that masked weirdo?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

I nodded, and we both burst out laughing. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked, my eyes wide with excitement.

She nodded and in a blink we rushed to the reception desk, ready to confront the receptionist.

When we arrived, the receptionist greeted us with a cheerful smile. Sadafa cut her off, "Cut the act, lady! How much did my brother pay you to pull off this flower extravaganza?"

The receptionist looked puzzled, and got chortled. "Oh, come on! Don't play dumb!"

I jumped in, trying to help. "Did a tall, dark, and handsome man come here last night... you know, the usual suspect?"