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— 𖤐 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐇𝐀'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 :
Mirha's age : twenty two
— Present night of the accident.
I should have known better.
I should have known that I'm not supposed to hold anything dearly. Whenever I do, I always end up being a curse to the ones I care about.
I become dangerous for them. So, so freaking dangerous that I end up hurting them badly—like I did with Lena—or worse, I end up killing them, like Mili and my hamster.
Every person who brought me happiness was snatched and ripped away from me in the most brutal way possible, I should have gotten the fucking hint that I'm not meant to be happy—at least not for long.
So what the hell made me think it would be any different with Zayran?
I ended up hurting him, just like all the others I held dear.
"I'm going to ruin Zayran Malik, and you, my sweet doll, will be my puppet in progress."
That one text was the start of my nightmare.
It all began when I joined Zayran's office. When that sick kidnapper said I would betray Zayran, I unleashed a torrent of curses in every language I knew and could think of, my anger boiling to the highest point.
There was no way I would ever betray my husband.
I was so sure of myself, so confident that I would track down that psychopathic twisted bastard with the help of Joseph—my private investigator—that I ignored all his threats.
But that was my first mistake. Joseph disappeared without a trace, like he never existed.
Then came the videos—horrific snippets that shattered my world. I received videos of my sister being subjected to unspeakable torture.
I watched in horror as they used a hot iron rod to sear her skin, cutting her flesh, chipping her nails off one by one. It was too much to bear.
It was downright brutality beyond comprehension. My soul shook and my heart fractured with each of her painful scream. The heavy weight of helplessness crushed and smashed me into pieces.
I tried hiring another investigator, but time was running out. The videos kept coming, each one more horrifying than the last, robbing me of sleep and sanity.
I couldn't sleep properly without being on the verge of a panic attack or breaking down if it weren't for Zayran's arms around me every night, anchoring me and soothing my nightmares.
I had enough. I planned to tell my dad and Zayran everything.
But just as I gathered the courage to tell my father everything, that very day, Papa was ambushed. His loyal guard took a bullet meant for him.
