In the Heart of Darkness

Chapter 4: The Wrath of Ibrahim Kardar

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The early morning sun was rising over the serene valley of Swat, casting soft golden hues over the landscape. In a secluded warehouse on the outskirts of the city, the air was thick with tension. Men in dark suits stood guard, their eyes sharp and alert. Inside, the atmosphere was even more oppressive.

Ibrahim Kardar, the most feared mafia boss, stood in the center of the dimly lit room. His piercing green eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in every detail. His presence was commanding, radiating an aura of absolute authority. The room fell silent as he stepped forward, his footsteps echoing ominously.

A man was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, his face bruised and bloodied. He looked up at Ibrahim with a mixture of fear and defiance. "You think you can scare me?" he spat, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Ibrahim's expression remained cold, unyielding. He approached the man slowly, his eyes never leaving his target. "You made a grave mistake, crossing me," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You thought you could betray me and get away with it?"

The man swallowed hard, his bravado fading. "I-I didn't mean to—"

"Silence!" Ibrahim's voice thundered, causing everyone in the room to flinch. He leaned in closer, his eyes boring into the man's soul. "You sold out our information and ratted on us. For that, there is no forgiveness."

With a swift motion, Ibrahim drew a knife from his belt. The blade glinted in the dim light, a symbol of the ruthless justice he was about to deliver. "You see this?" he said, holding the knife up to the man's face. "This is your punishment."

The man trembled, his eyes wide with terror. "Please, I have a family—"

"And so did the men you betrayed," Ibrahim interrupted, his voice icy. He brought the knife down, slashing the man's arm. The man screamed in agony, but Ibrahim was unmoved. "This is just the beginning," he said, his voice calm and methodical. "You will suffer for what you've done."

Ibrahim continued, each cut precise and deliberate. He made sure the traitor felt every ounce of pain, drawing out his suffering. The room was filled with the man's cries, but no one dared to intervene. 

They knew that crossing Ibrahim Kardar meant certain death. His reputation as a ruthless enforcer was well-earned, and he made sure everyone understood the consequences of betrayal.

After what felt like an eternity, Ibrahim stepped back, his hands stained with blood. The man slumped in the chair, barely conscious. Ibrahim wiped the knife clean and washed his hands. "Take him away," he ordered his men. "Make sure he doesn't forget this lesson."

As his men dragged the broken man away, Ibrahim turned to his second-in-command. "Any word on the others?" he asked, his tone now business-like.

"They've been dealt with, boss," the man replied. "No one will dare to cross you again."

Ibrahim nodded, satisfied. "Good. Let this be a reminder to everyone. Loyalty is everything. Betrayal will not be tolerated."

As he stepped into the cool morning air, Ibrahim's thoughts turned to Zara. He had married her to protect her, but he knew that his world was a dangerous one. He would have to be even more vigilant now, ensuring that no harm came to her. For now, though, his message had been sent. The city would remember the wrath of Ibrahim Kardar.

He ordered his driver to take him to Serena Mall, the mall he owned. As he entered, he was greeted with warm respect, and he greeted his employees back. 

Despite his cold nature, he respected his employees very much. As he was about to move, his sight caught a familiar figure—his now wife, Zara. The scene before him made his blood boil. He saw Ahmed grabbing her shoulder.

Without any second thought, Ibrahim lunged at Ahmed, his rage palpable. He started punching Ahmed, each blow fueled by his fury. "How dare you touch her!" he roared, his voice echoing through the mall. He was about to kill Ahmed when Zara held his hand and said his name for the first time. "Ibrahim, please," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Hearing his name from her lips stopped him. No one ever dare to called him by his first name; everyone called him Sir or Boss He looked at her, seeing her grey eyes red with tears, her rosy cheeks and nose. Her dupatta had slipped from her head. She was begging for Ahmed's life, which made him feel a pang of remorse. 

His own wife was crying for that bastard. He ordered his guards to take Ahmed away. His guards knew exactly where to take him—to the warehouse.

Ibrahim fixed Zara's dupatta, and they sat in his car. The ride to the house was utterly silent as he tried to control his anger and not scare his frightened wife more. Even though whatever she did was her business and he was no one to interfere, now she was his wife, his reputation. His name was connected with her, so everything she does is his business now.

After dropping her at home, he went to the warehouse. Inside, Ahmed was tied to the same chair the previous traitor had occupied. Ibrahim's expression was murderous. "You dared to touch my wife," he said, his voice dangerously low. "For that, you will pay."

Ahmed's eyes widened in shock. "Your wife? What do you mean?"

Ibrahim sneered, stepping closer. "Yes, my wife. Zara Ibrahim Kardar. She is part of my family now."

Ahmed was too stunned to speak. He had been obsessed with Zara, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"You see," Ibrahim continued, "no one lays a hand on my family and gets away with it."

Ahmed stammered, "I-I didn't know..."

"I don't care what you knew," Ibrahim interrupted, his voice like ice. "You disrespected her. You disrespected me. And for that, you will suffer."

With a swift motion, Ibrahim's fist connected with Ahmed's jaw, sending a shockwave of pain through his body. Ibrahim's rage was palpable as he delivered blow after blow, each strike fueled by the fury of a protective husband and a ruthless enforcer.

Ahmed's pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. "Please, sir... have mercy..."

"Mercy?" Ibrahim spat, his eyes blazing with fury. "You dared to touch my wife. You dared to think you could harm her. Mercy is not an option."

He grabbed a metal rod from the nearby table, its weight reassuring in his hands. Without hesitation, he swung it with brutal force, the sound of bones breaking echoing through the warehouse. Ahmed's screams filled the air, but Ibrahim was relentless.

Every strike was a message, a declaration of his unyielding power. He beat Ahmed until the man was a bloody, broken mess on the floor, barely recognizable. The other men in the room watched in silent terror, knowing that this was the fate of anyone who crossed Ibrahim Kardar.

Finally, Ibrahim stepped back, his chest heaving with exertion. He looked down at Ahmed, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "This is what happens to those who disrespect my family," he said, his voice deadly calm. "Remember this pain. It is a fraction of what I would do to protect them."

Leaving Ahmed in the warehouse, Ibrahim went to his office. He called Nancy and the other employees who had been present with Zara at the mall. His anger was palpable. "You had one job," he yelled. "Why didn't you protect her from that bastard?"

All of them were terrified of his wrath. Nancy, a well-trained helper and bodyguard, was shocked as he had never talked to them like that, but she also knew they had truly disappointed him today. The guards were silent, waiting for his anger to subside while Nancy tried to explain, but Ibrahim stopped her.

"This is your last warning," he said, his voice deadly calm. "If anything ever happens to any of my family members in your presence, that will be your last day. Understand?"

They all nodded, fear etched on their faces. With that, Ibrahim dismissed them, his mind already turning to how he would ensure Zara's safety in the future.

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