My Quiet Wife

Chapter 6: A Call from the Past

Sufiyaan Baig's morning began in the stillness of his penthouse, high above the bustling streets of New York City. It was a place of luxury—floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the city skyline, casting pale light over the sleek, modern furniture that filled the expansive space. The penthouse was as silent as it was beautiful, a striking contrast to the laughter and warmth that once filled the halls of Sheesh Mahal, their ancestral home in Pakistan. Now, the emptiness lingered like an unwelcome guest.

Anila Baig moved quietly through the kitchen, preparing breakfast as she did every morning, despite the team of helpers at her disposal. She placed a steaming plate of food before her husband, Malik, and another before their only son, Sufiyaan. Her gestures were careful, almost hesitant, as if afraid to disrupt the fragile peace that held their family together.

Sufiyaan, dressed in a tailored suit, sat rigidly at the table, barely touching his food. He was a man of few words—cold, stoic, and distant. Any question his mother or father asked him was met with a curt nod or a noncommittal "hmm." An invisible wall had risen between them, a barrier none of them could penetrate. The incident that had shattered their family six years ago was never spoken of, its details left to rot in the silence. It had driven them from Sheesh Mahal, leaving behind a place that was once filled with joy, and replaced it with a life defined by expensive marble floors, pristine glass, and the cold lights of New York.

As Sufiyaan stood to leave, adjusting the cuffs of his immaculate white shirt, he broke the uneasy silence with a single word: "Reyaan?"

Anila's face brightened, a rare light sparking in her eyes. It was so rare that Sufiyaan asked anything. "He's still sleeping," she said quickly, eager to keep the moment alive. "It's a school holiday today." Sufiyaan merely nodded, and with a swift, silent movement, he was out the door, leaving behind the sadness that clung to his family like a shadow.

Outside, the streets of New York pulsed with life, but as Sufiyaan walked into his towering office building, the mood shifted. The air seemed to thicken with tension; whispers faded to silence, and employees straightened in their seats. Sufiyaan's presence demanded respect and instilled fear in equal measure. His reputation as a ruthless business tycoon had earned him loyalty, but it came at the price of warmth. His aura was cold and intimidating—he exuded an aura of control, and the steeliness in his eyes warned against challenges.

The lobby of the building mirrored Sufiyaan's precision—a sleek blend of glass, chrome, and marble. Black leather chairs were positioned with meticulous care, and art pieces adorned the walls in a way that spoke of understated wealth. His company, one of New York's most successful real estate and investment firms, bore his name in clean, metallic lettering above the entrance.

His private office, located on the top floor, was a reflection of the man himself—modern, cold, and impressive. Dark mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, filled with files and books on business, economics, and law. The massive window behind his desk offered a view of the city below, but it was a view he rarely seemed to appreciate. Everything in the room was placed with purpose: the leather chairs in front of his desk, the sleek black computer monitor, the neatly stacked papers, and the framed photographs that showed only glimpses of a life he had long left behind.

The only person in the office who seemed unaffected by Sufiyaan's severe demeanor was his personal assistant, Ibrahim Sultan. Unlike the rest of the employees, Ibrahim moved with ease, unburdened by the oppressive silence that followed Sufiyaan's every step. 

Ibrahim Sultan was not just an assistant. He was practically family, having been with the Baigs since his father's time as the caretaker of Sheesh Mahal. His father had served the Baig family loyally when Sufiyaan's own father, Malik, was just a child. When his father passed away, Ibrahim had chosen to stay with the Baigs, carrying on the legacy of service and loyalty that had become almost a tradition in his family. When the Baigs moved to the United States, he followed them without question, leaving behind the familiar grounds of Sheesh.