Make Me Your Villain

Chapter Thirty Four

Hayat Azhar

Somewhere along the way of first getting to know Shazain Sardar, I had lost my fear of him.

Over time, it became almost routine to see my screen light up with an unknown number.

I had subconsciously grown accustomed to the presence of a criminal in my life—provided he didn't push boundaries, which I trusted he wouldn't.

But standing in the gardens of the Malik haveli, mere feet from those pitch-black eyes I'd recognize anywhere, I felt a terror that paralyzed me.

He was dressed sharply but blending in seamlessly. The intensity in his gaze made my heart pound.

What was Shazain Sardar doing here?

His eyes were unusually deep, dark, and hypnotic; eyes that seemed to pierce through my soul.

I couldn't focus on anything else. The world around me blurred, and time seemed to halt. The sounds of the party melded into a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of my heart in my ears.

He blinked slowly and a shimmer appeared in his eyes, marking that he realized I recognized him.

Shazain took his phone out to type something. Moments later, my phone buzzed.

My fingers clenched into tight fists, the urge to run overwhelming, yet I remained rooted to the spot.

A small smile played on his lips as he waved his phone in the air, signaling me. I felt as though I were moving through molasses as I turned my phone over, my hand quivering.

Unknown : Lavender suits you well.

I read the message again, each word sending a shiver down my spine.

I knew I should have reacted differently, shown him no fear, but the grip of terror held me in place like chains. I didn't even consider snapping his picture to maybe alert the authorities.

I exhaled, trying to shake off the paralysis that clasped me, but I couldn't bring myself to lift my eyes or move from my spot.

I might have stayed rooted to my place all night if someone hadn't collided with my shoulder, sending my phone tumbling from my grasp. My heart leapt into my throat as I looked up, expecting to see Shazain standing there.

"Seriously?" Sameer's voice cut through the haze of fear that enveloped me, his expression tinged with annoyance. "Couldn't you have moved out of my way when you saw me walking?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat.

What was wrong with this guy? Why did he always seem to find me at the worst possible moments?

He frowned at the rose clutched in my hand, his gaze lingering on it for a moment too long. "Are you going around plucking flowers from the stage?"

"No way!" I blurted, caught off guard. "Someone gave it to me."

Come to think of it, where did the kids get this rose from? Did they seriously break it off from the decorated stage?

"Right." Sameer raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting mysteriously. "So you wouldn't mind if someone else borrowed it then, yeah?"

Before I could react, he plucked the flower from my hand, slipping it into his suit's pocket with practiced ease.

"Stop zoning out," he chided, finding something amusing about our predicament as he lowered his face to meet my eye-level and frowned. "You don't get paid for that."