ll Ghuroor Ke Badal غرور کے بادل ll

11.**Chapter 11**

The room was filled with tension as Mir Lashari paced back and forth in his office, the air thick with frustration. His face was a storm of fury, his jaw clenched tightly. Khalid, his most trusted servant, stood by the door, waiting for the right moment to speak. He could see Mir's agitation, the way his hands clenched into fists as he muttered to himself.

"How could they let this happen?" Mir muttered under his breath, his voice low but simmering with rage. "How could they let this... *this* article get published?" His mind was racing, unable to comprehend how things had gotten out of control so quickly. The entire situation was spiraling beyond his reach.

Just then, Khalid stepped forward hesitantly, careful not to further ignite Mir's anger. "Mir Sahab," he began, his voice steady but tinged with concern, "there's something you need to know. We've been digging into the source of that article. It wasn't just some rogue journalist looking for a headline." He paused for a moment before delivering the news that he knew would push Mir into even deeper turmoil.

Mir stopped pacing immediately, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face Khalid. "What is it? Spit it out already," he snapped, his voice cold with barely contained fury.

"It was Meherbano," Khalid said quietly, almost as if he was afraid to utter the name. "Ahmed Maqsud's daughter. She's the one who reached out to the newspaper and insisted they run the story. The article about the accident... about the rumors, everything. She's the one behind it."

Mir stood still for a moment, his mind reeling. He couldn't believe it. Of all the people, it was *her*. He had known from the start that her family was a thorn in his side, but he never imagined that she would go this far. The audacity of the Maqsud family was beyond his comprehension.

"That little..." Mir's voice trailed off as he took a few long strides across the room, stopping just short of smashing his fist into the desk. He exhaled sharply, trying to rein in his temper. "This is unacceptable," he muttered. "I should have known she would be trouble. We'll have to deal with this... and her... immediately."

Khalid remained standing, his gaze careful. He had seen Mir lose his temper many times, but this was different. There was a dangerous edge to his anger now, something more calculated. "I've already instructed the paper to retract the article, Mir Sahab. We're making sure the damage is contained," Khalid said, trying to offer a semblance of reassurance. "But the rumors have already spread, and the damage -"

"I don't need you to tell me the obvious, Khalid!" Mir cut him off sharply, his voice rising. "You think I don't know the damage this could cause? If this gets out of control, if the media gets wind of it, it could ruin everything. I'll bury them all-her, her father, the whole Maqsud family. No one crosses me like this and gets away with it."

Mir's anger was palpable, his body rigid with frustration. He began pacing again, his mind whirling with ideas of how to handle the situation. He was calculating, always thinking several steps ahead. But the sudden realization that Meherbano had orchestrated this plan, using the newspaper as her weapon, pushed him further into a dangerous zone.

Khalid didn't say anything else. He knew better than to argue when Mir was like this. Instead, he took a step back, lowering his head respectfully. "I'll make sure that everything is handled, Mir Sahab," he said quietly, trying to bring a sense of order back into the chaos.

Mir's jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth. He had made it clear from the beginning that the incident needed to be buried. His family's reputation, his son's future-everything was at risk, and now this woman was jeopardizing all of it. He turned away from Khalid and paced the length of the room, muttering to himself in frustration.