Make Me Your Villain | ✓

Chapter Forty Eight

Hayat Azhar

I clutched the black gun with the serpentine 'S' carved into its handle, pressing it to my chest, struggling to stifle the sobs rising in my throat.

Our last conversation replayed in my mind, over and over, like a broken record, forcing me to relive every painful second.

"I should have told you the truth a long time ago."

"W-what truth? Sameer, what's going on? What are you saying?"

"I, Sameer Malik, am also Shazain Sardar."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head as if I could somehow erase what had happened twenty minutes ago.

The distant howls of jackals cut through the night. Leaning against the rough bark of a tree, I wiped my nose with a shaky hand, trying to ground myself.

"Listen to me, Hayat! You have to pull yourself together. The police are tracking this car right now. Take this phone and get out. If you stay, we're both going down."

A strangled cry broke from my lips. I covered my mouth, shaking my head desperately.

"If something happens, you had no idea about any of this. I'll make sure you're not tied to it. Now, run. Run and don't look back. Go so far that even my shadow can't reach you."

My heart shattered, the pieces scattering around me. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. None of it was.

The police weren't supposed to track Shazain Sardar through the phone I gave them. Sameer wasn't supposed to still have one of those burner phones in his car. I wasn't supposed to find it, let alone turn it on.

And Sameer and Shazain weren't supposed to be the same person.

But here I was, forced to face the truth.

I had put his life in danger.

A rustling sound broke through my sobs and I heard footsteps crunching on dried leaves, drawing closer.

Quickly wiping my tears, I held my breath. Sameer's phone was still with me. As the sound grew near, I jumped from my hiding spot, pointing the gun at the figure in front of me.

The man stopped abruptly, raising his hands. "Jalal," he said calmly, his voice blending with the sound of crickets. "Shazain's friend, or well, Sameer's."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to get a look at his face. When he shifted slightly, the moonlight illuminated his features and my eyes widened. I knew this man.

"You!"

His shoulders relaxed and he let out a humorless chuckle. "You remembered my face?"

His eyes weren't black, like I'd thought before—they were brown. He was the man I'd seen at Asra's Nikkah, the one I'd mistaken for Shazain.

"You pretended to be Shazain." I accused, jerking the gun when he started lowering his hands, forcing him to raise them again.

"Not exactly. I never claimed I was him," he answered smoothly. "Look, I'll explain everything but right now, we need to go. The police are headed this way."

"I don't trust you," I spat, keeping the gun trained at him.

His gaze shifted to the weapon in my hand. "Shazain gave you his pistol," he noted. "But I doubt he had time to show you how to use it."

Without breaking eye contact, I flicked off the safety and aimed at his head, watching as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he took a cautious step back.