FORCED TO BE HIS

13| Junoon ki shiddat

The darkened office was eerily silent, save for the soft tapping of Murtasim's fingers against the mahogany desk. His eyes, cold and calculating, were fixed on the reports spread out before him. Underneath the quiet exterior, a storm was brewing. The details of the recent shipment had not matched up. A betrayal was brewing in his organization, and Murtasim knew exactly what needed to be done.

His phone buzzed, breaking the heavy silence. It was his most trusted lieutenant, Zahir. "Boss, we found out who’s behind the stolen shipment," Zahir’s voice was grim on the other end. Murtasim’s jaw tightened, his fingers clenched around the phone as if he could choke the life out of the person on the other end. “Meet me in an hour. Make sure everything is ready,” he ordered, his tone low and deadly.

But before heading out, Murtasim needed to see Saad.

In another part of the house, Ayaan’s laughter filled the air. Saad had convinced him to play a board game, and the child’s innocent giggles were a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. Saad, though momentarily distracted, could not shake the growing unease that always accompanied Murtasim's absence. There was something magnetic yet terrifying about the man, something that made Saad's heart race and his hands tremble.

Ayaan rolled the dice and grinned at Saad, his small face lighting up with joy. "Dekho, Mumma! Main jeet gaya!" he exclaimed, pulling Saad’s attention back to the game.

"Arre wah, Ayu! Tum toh bahut tez ho," Saad responded with a smile, ruffling Ayaan's hair. For a moment, everything felt normal, as if they were just a regular family enjoying a peaceful evening. But that peace was fragile, always on the verge of breaking.

Then the door creaked open, and Murtasim stepped in. He wore an unreadable expression, his gaze immediately seeking out Saad. "Saad, idhar aao," he ordered, his voice carrying that edge that always made Saad's heart skip a beat.

Saad hesitated, glancing at Ayaan, who was too engrossed in his game to notice the tension in the air. "Main bas—," he started, but Murtasim cut him off.

“Abhi!” Murtasim's voice was firmer, leaving no room for argument. Saad quickly got up, his steps tentative as he walked over to him. Murtasim’s hand instantly grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. His touch was firm, possessive, and there was a certain urgency to it. “Tum mere saath chalo,” he whispered, his breath hot against Saad’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Murtasim led Saad to his private office, closing the door behind them with a soft click. He turned to face Saad, who was now fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, nervous under Murtasim’s intense gaze. “Tum mujhse door kyun jaate ho, Saad?” Murtasim's voice was quiet but carried a dangerous undertone.

Saad looked up, surprised by the question. “Murtasim… main toh—”

“Chup!” Murtasim’s hand came up, his finger pressing lightly against Saad’s lips. “Tumhein pata hai na mujhe tumhara kisi aur se baat karna pasand nahin? Tumhara hansna, tumhara muskurana... bas mere liye hai.” His voice was a mixture of possessiveness and desperation.

Saad’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to protest, to say something, but Murtasim's intense gaze held him captive. "Main… main samajh gaya," Saad whispered, his voice barely audible.

Murtasim's expression softened just a little, his thumb brushing against Saad's cheek. "Good," he murmured, his tone still commanding. "Aaj tum mere saath hi rahoge, samjhe?" Saad nodded, unable to look away from those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through him.

The rest of the day passed with Murtasim sticking close to Saad, almost shadowing him. Even when Saad tried to step away to get a moment of peace, he could feel Murtasim’s eyes on him, watching every move, every gesture.