His Captive 21+

56

Irtaza was in his office—a sleek penthouse that overlooked the bustling city below. He moved through the elegantly decorated space with the confidence of a man who commanded both respect and fear. On the surface, he was a wealthy businessman, overseeing a chain of successful enterprises. But beneath that polished exterior lay a darker world—one that thrived on power, influence, and intimidation.

"Any word from Daniyal?" Mustafa, his business partner and closest confidant, asked, breaking the tense silence.

Irtaza's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "He's late. I don't like late." His tone was calm, but it held an unmistakable edge of menace.

Mustafa shifted, trying to ease the tension. "He's handling the shipment. You know how unpredictable these things can be—"

Ali, another associate, cut him off, his voice grim. "I've got word that he's been in talks with Zafar's men. He might be planning to sell us out—hand over the shipments."

Mustafa shook his head in disbelief. "That's not possible—"

Irtaza's smirk stopped him. It was cold, calculated. "I already knew."

Mustafa's eyes widened in shock. "You knew? Daniyal's been double-dealing?"

Irtaza's voice remained calm, almost indifferent. "He's been playing both sides, thinking he can outmaneuver me."

"Madarchod Saala! I'll fucking kill him!" Mustafa burst out, anger surging through him.

"No," Irtaza said, his tone turning icy. "Don't act on impulse. Let him hand over the shipment to Zafar."

Mustafa stared at him, incredulous. "We'll lose millions! You're letting this happen?"

Irtaza's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a deadly calm. "We're not losing anything. But Zafar—he'll lose everything. This is how I end him."

...

As the golden sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in soft shades of orange, Anum sat quietly on the porch, her laptop open beside her. She was on a video call with her mother, discussing her day and potential job opportunities. Despite the casual conversation, a wave of nausea swept over her, causing her to pause.

"Anum, tu theek hai?"her mother asked, her voice filled with concern. (Anum, are you okay?)

"Ji, bas thori thakawat mehsoos ho rahi hai," Anum replied, forcing a smile. (Yes, I'm fine. Just feeling a bit tired.)

"Beta, tujhe apni shaadi par dhayan dena chahiye," her mother said gently. "Irtaza ne itna kuch seh liya hai. Yeh waqt tum dono ke liye apne rishte ko mazboot karne ka hai, kaam mein waqt kharch karne ka nahi." (Irtaza has been through a lot. This is a time for you both to strengthen your relationship, not to bury yourself in work.)

Anum glanced away, her heart heavy with the weight of her mother's words. Just then, another wave of nausea hit her, more intense this time, but she ignored it. "Lekin ami, mujhe apna career banana hai. Mere liye mera career zyada zaroori hai." (But mom, my career is important to me. I want to build my own identity.)

"Sun, meri jaan," her mother said softly, leaning closer to the camera. "Tu agar job karegi toh usko time kaise degi? Aur..Irtaza ne bohat kuch bardasht kiya hai. Kisi shohar ko acha nahi lagega ke uski biwi kisi dusre mard se milne jaye, beshak jis wajah se bhi. Phir bhi usne ek alfaaz nahi kaha tujhe." She said, referring to how Anum went to meet Shehreyar that day. (I understand, but how will you find time for him if you're always focused on work? Irtaza never complained, even when you went to meet another man. Any husband would have been upset, but he didn't say a word.)