𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗢𝗪𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 𝗛𝗜𝗠
In the dark corners of the red-light district, Zoya's life is a constant struggle. Born to a prostitute and raised in a world where bodies are bought and sold, Zoya dreams of breaking fre...
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"Badha babu, aap kab aaye?" The housekeeper's voice trembled as I walked straight into the mansion. It was an enormous mansion, a dark legacy built by my father with blood and every ugly thing in this world. The housekeeper hurried behind me, trying to understand why I had appeared so suddenly. I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face him.
"Where is Mr. Shah?" I asked. The old man shivered under my gaze, gulping hard.
"In his office," he replied. I turned to leave, but he called out from behind, his voice shaky.
"Badha babu—unhone aane se mana kiya—"
I took two steps toward him. He looked into the devil I had become. "Never stop Fahad Shah on his way," I said, watching as he nearly collapsed. I gave him one last look before heading straight to the office of Mr. Shah—my father.
"So, you are here, Fahad," he said without looking up from the book he was holding. I didn't respond. "It's been ten years since the last time I saw you," he added, finally looking up with his world-famous fake smile.
"Where is she?" I asked, cutting straight to the point. I knew his games and I knew how not to become one of his toys. He placed his book back on the table and turned fully towards me. I waited for his answer.
"Safe, alive, and with food," he chuckled, then looked at me. "Just like the deal said."
My jaw clenched. I had been keeping my eyes on her, but for the past few years, she had vanished. I was certain he was behind it all. What he didn't know was that I was here to get my butterfly back. This time, I would keep her in my chains.
The office was dark, a reflection of the man who occupied it. My father, Mr. Shah, was a master of manipulation, and I was determined not to fall into his traps.
"You look well, Fahad. The years have been kind to you," he remarked, his tone dripping with insincerity.
"I'm not here for pleasantries," I replied coldly. "You know why I'm here."
"Ah, always so direct. Just like your mother," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But you should know, she's quite elusive. It took me years to find her."
My fists tightened at my sides. "Where. Is. She?"
He smirked, enjoying the power he held in this moment. "Somewhere safe. Somewhere you can't reach her. Unless..."
"Unless what?" I snapped.
"Unless you're willing to make a trade," he said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Your freedom for hers."
I laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "You think you can trap me? You think you can control me? I am not the scared boy you once knew."
"Maybe not," he conceded. "But you are still my son. And blood is a powerful thing."
