THE FORBIDDEN FLAME

Chapter 1: First Encounter

Author POV:

Imaan's patience was running thin as she waited for her friend, Mahnoor, to arrive. ''Forty-five minutes, Mahnoor! Where are you?'' she exclaimed, her annoyance palpable.

Mahnoor's response was characteristically nonchalant: ''Chill, babe, I'm almost there.''

Imaan's skepticism was evident in her retort: ''Almost there? You've been "almost there" for the past half hour, I presume, still primping and preening?''

Mahnoor's laughter echoed through the phone before she said, ''Well, I wouldn't want to miss my favorite artist's exhibition, would I? Turn around, Imaan.''

As Imaan turned, her eyes landed on Mahnoor, who was sauntering towards her with effortless elegance. Her black turtleneck and beige pants were impeccably paired under a tailored black blazer, and her Saint Laurent heels clicked against the floor with each step. Her luscious, wavy locks cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall.

The two friends shared a warm embrace, with Imaan dramatically rolling her eyes and saying, ''Thank goodness you arrived, or I feared I'd be stuck here all evening, twiddling my thumbs.''

Mahnoor smiled mischievously and replied, ''Hardly late, my friend. Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Your Highness.''

Mahnoor clasped her hands together in a theatrical gesture, pleading for forgiveness with a mischievous glint in her eye. Imaan rolled her eyes playfully, teasing, "I'll think about it," before leading the way inside, leaving Mahnoor to chuckle in amusement as she followed closely behind.

Meanwhile, the curator, resplendent in his tailored suit, ushered in the chief guest, Malik Rayyan, with great fanfare, opening the door to the luxurious Rolls-Royce Phantom with a flourish. As Rayyan emerged, his imposing figure was clad in a sleek black suit, perfectly complemented by a black tie and his chiseled features, which seemed to have been chiseled from granite. His dark blond hair was impeccably styled, and his piercing gaze seemed to command attention, his eyes gleaming with a hint of intensity.

The curator, visibly nervous, received a curt nod from Rayyan, who exuded an aura of confidence and power, his presence seeming to fill the room. Mr. Salim, Rayyan's secretary, stepped forward to shake hands with the curator, his smile warm and courteous. "Please, lead the way," he requested, his voice smooth as silk, as he gestured for the curator to precede them.

As they entered the exhibition hall, Arham, Rayyan's friend, spotted him and strode over, enveloping him in a hearty bro hug, his enthusiasm infectious. Rayyan, accustomed to Arham's exuberance, remained stoic, his expression unreadable, though a hint of amusement danced in his eyes. Arham grinned mischievously, saying, "Thank goodness my bribe worked!" Rayyan deadpanned, "It's not a bribe if one is paying for it," his tone dry and witty, his voice low and smooth.

"Come on, Mr. Richy Rich, let me lead the way to your piece," Arham said with a grin, as they began to explore the exhibition.

Meanwhile, Mahnoor and Imaan were admiring the artwork, taking photos and discussing the pieces, when suddenly Imaan flinched. Mahnoor noticed her friend's tense expression and asked concernedly, "What happened?"

Imaan pointed discreetly at a man standing nearby and whispered, "He touched me inappropriately."

Without hesitation, Mahnoor marched towards the offender, her eyes blazing with anger. She grabbed his shoulder, spun him around, and slapped him hard, leaving the entire room stunned, including Imaan and the man himself.

Imaan stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock, as Mahnoor berated the man, her voice fierce and commanding. "You bloody bastard! How dare you touch a girl without her permission, especially in a public place! Do you know who I am? I can have you thrown in jail in minutes!"