Murtasim was lost in thought as the car idled at the red traffic signal. His eyes, usually sharp and vigilant, were wandering aimlessly over the crowds on the sidewalk. Faisal and Ali sat in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts, knowing their boss was not a man to engage in idle chatter. They were heading to a business meeting, but for some reason, Murtasim's mind kept drifting back to that one fleeting encounter a few days ago.
That girl. He had only caught a glimpse of her, but her image had been seared into his memory. There had been something about her — the way she carried herself with effortless grace, the slight curve of her lips as she smiled to herself, the spark in her eyes. She had disappeared before he could approach her, like a phantom leaving behind nothing but questions and a sense of incompleteness.
And then, as if the universe had heard the desires he refused to admit, he saw her. There she stood, mere feet away, on the sidewalk, laughing and chatting with two friends. Murtasim's breath hitched. It was her. Meerab. He didn’t know her name, yet it felt like he did. The way she tilted her head back and laughed, clutching a thick book to her chest, exuding joy that somehow reached right into him, tugging at something deep and buried. She seemed so full of life, so carefree, in stark contrast to the dark, dangerous world he inhabited.
His pulse quickened as he watched her. There was no denying the magnetism she held over him. He wasn’t the type of man to be enchanted by anyone, much less a girl whose name he didn't even know, but Meerab had captivated him from that one glance. And here she was again, almost as if fate had pushed her into his path.
Faisal noticed his boss’s sudden change in demeanor and, curious, followed his gaze. “Bhai, should I park the car?” he asked, sensing Murtasim’s unspoken desire.
Murtasim didn’t respond immediately, his focus unwavering as he observed Meerab, unaware of the world around him. It was only when Faisal repeated his question that Murtasim finally broke out of his trance. He nodded curtly.
“Park on the side,” he said, his voice rougher than usual, as if his throat was tight with emotions he didn't want to admit.
The car smoothly glided to the curb, and without waiting for it to come to a complete stop, Murtasim was already stepping out. Faisal and Ali exchanged a glance but knew better than to question their boss. This was unusual behavior for Murtasim, a man who always maintained control over every situation. He wasn’t impulsive. Yet, here he was, striding toward the girl with purpose, though there was a faint hint of hesitation in his steps.
As Murtasim approached the group, his sharp eyes quickly noticed a group of local boys hanging nearby, leering and catcalling. His blood boiled instantly. The boys' vulgar whistles and comments were clearly directed at Meerab and her friends, who were doing their best to ignore them. Meerab, for her part, stood a little straighter, her laughter fading as she tried to maintain her composure. She clutched her book tighter to her chest, her eyes narrowing as she shot a glare toward the boys.
“Just ignore them,” one of her friends whispered, tugging at Meerab’s arm.
But Meerab wasn’t the type to let such disrespect slide. Still, before she could respond, Murtasim was already closing the distance between them. His eyes darkened with fury. No one dared to look at her — or anyone — with such disrespect, especially in his presence. He didn’t care who they were; they were about to learn that lesson the hard way.
Without a word, Murtasim stepped in front of the group of boys, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over them. His eyes, cold and fierce, were enough to make the boys shrink back.
One of the boys, the apparent leader of the group, looked Murtasim up and down with a sneer, but as soon as he recognized who he was, his bravado crumbled.
