My collection of short stories. Mostly plots that keep running in my mind but I can't turn them into fully fledged stories.
I don't write other women or any kind of cheating trope. I like my main characters virgin before they find each other
1. Mirz...
The ride to the Pasha mansion was not as silent and sombre as I had hoped. The only person who had cried during the rukhsati was her brother, and she had shed tears only for him. The arrangement of this marriage was painfully obvious to everyone present, and no one was pretending otherwise. I had suspicions that Iqbal Sikander was kinda hard on Zohaira and seeing her only crying for her brother almost confirmed it.
As soon as we sat in the car, she demanded water and started acting as if she owned the car. Then, Ayaan started bickering with Zafar, and somehow, Zohaira was pulled into their banter. I sighed, realizing the three-hour journey from Peshawar to Islamabad was going to be a long one.
Ayaan sat back with an amused grin, enjoying the dynamic unfolding between Zohaira and me. She couldn't stand the silence for three hours straight and was the first to break it.
"So... Mr. Pasha, what's next in the plan? Will you give me the keys to the treasury as the eldest 'daughter-in-law,' or should I start scheming some plot?" she asked with a smirk.
I smirked hearing her. Nothing had changed in her debate capabilities, despite how much I hated this woman. She always wanted to get the first and the last word.
"I thought you had already started scheming, hmm? Get my mafia secrets out so yours can take over, and then get my business in a divorce. But first, let's start by not slicing each other's throats tonight. I'm sensing lots of animosity from your side. I don't think you like me very much."
"Good observations. I'm glad you noticed that I don't like you very much. But I do not need to get your mafia secrets to rule the underworld, and I have my own business; I do NOT need yours," she said with an eye roll.
Ayaan clapped his hands, breaking the tension with his laughter. "This is gold. I should have brought popcorn. Seriously, you two should consider writing a book on mafia management. 'How to Rule the Underworld with Your Spouse'—it would be a bestseller."
Ayaan tried to control his laughter by putting his fist in his mouth when I glared at him, while Zafar kept his focus on driving, his stoic expression betraying only the occasional twitch of a smile at our banter.
This back-and-forth continued for another hour and a half, by which time Zohaira had already fallen asleep. I looked out the window, making several calls to deal with security. We reached the grand Pasha mansion, sitting on a large estate in a remote area of Islamabad, just below a huge mountain filled with dense trees, providing additional security. The mansion exuded modernity, unlike the traditional Sikander haveli.
The grandeur of the Pasha mansion was undeniable, a fortress of wealth and power, much like the family that resided within it.
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I saw Zohaira wake up and look around to see the car going through a line of dense trees on a posh concrete road with warm lights for visibility. She opened her mouth, probably to about to ask about our whereabouts when the mansion rolled into view. I noticed her quickly hide her shock at its sheer size.
