The tension in Khan Haveli was palpable. It had been a week since the news of a brewing land dispute between the Khans and the Maliks reached Murtasim. As the head of the Khan family, he was responsible for safeguarding their legacy and interests. This was no ordinary feud; it was a battle for pride and power, a conflict that could not be ignored.
Murtasim spent hours every day strategizing, making phone calls, and meeting with his allies. His focus was razor-sharp, his demeanor serious, and his time was consumed by the complexities of the situation. The Khans had always been a formidable force in the village, but the Maliks were stirring up trouble, challenging the authority that the Khans had held for generations.
Meanwhile, Meerab watched from the shadows, her heart growing heavy with each passing day. She understood the gravity of the situation, knew how much responsibility Murtasim carried on his shoulders, but she couldn’t help but feel neglected. Their marriage, which was once filled with laughter, teasing, and intimate moments, had been reduced to fleeting glances and brief exchanges. It seemed as though Murtasim had no time for her anymore, and that hurt more than she cared to admit.
It was late in the evening when Murtasim received yet another call from his uncle, Anwar, who was overseeing matters from afar. The two men had been discussing the land dispute for days, trying to outmaneuver the Maliks and protect their family’s interests. As Murtasim answered the call, Meerab stood at the doorway of their bedroom, watching him intently.
Murtasim’s voice was low and authoritative as he spoke to Anwar. “Yes, Chacha, I understand. But we need to move quickly. The Maliks are trying to rally support from the other landowners. If we don’t act soon, we could lose more than just the land. We’ll lose face.”
Meerab frowned, feeling a pang of irritation. She had always respected Murtasim’s dedication to his family, but she couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling of being sidelined. As the conversation continued, she decided that if her husband wouldn’t pay attention to her willingly, she would make him do so.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Meerab sauntered over to Murtasim, her movements slow and deliberate. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his brows furrowed as he listened to Anwar’s voice on the other end of the line. It was the perfect moment.
Murtasim glanced at her briefly, giving her a quick nod before turning his attention back to the call. “No, Chacha, we can’t afford to let this drag on. If we don’t settle this soon, the Maliks will gain the upper hand, and that’s something we cannot allow.”
Meerab bit her lip, suppressing a smile as she kneeled down in front of him. Murtasim’s gaze flickered down to her, confusion flashing in his eyes as she settled between his legs. He raised an eyebrow in silent question, but Meerab simply smiled sweetly, her eyes full of innocent mischief.
Murtasim cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure as he returned his attention to the phone call. “We need to gather our allies, Chacha. They must understand that siding with the Maliks will not end well for them.”
Meerab, ignoring the warning look Murtasim shot her, leaned forward and placed her hands on his thighs. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he tensed up at her touch. Slowly, she began to trail her fingers along the inside of his thighs, her touch feather-light and teasing.
Murtasim’s breath hitched, but he forced himself to continue speaking. “Yes, I’m listening… We’ll need to… to make sure that… that our position is… is solid…”
Meerab’s smile widened as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against the fabric of his trousers. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his breath became uneven. Murtasim shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his free hand gripping the armrest of his chair as he struggled to maintain his composure.
