𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐦 & 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦

Chapter 13

"I won't let you do that."

"I will make you do that," Jibran retorted, his voice carrying the same serious tone as Veilbreaker’s. He turned to Erum, ready to speak, but she interrupted.

“Dad, I won’t divorce him.”

Jibran's expression hardened. He paused for a moment before speaking. “Show me your nikkah nama.”

She froze.
She hadn’t expected that question. Idiotic of her. She should've expected it.
And she wasn’t sure if Veilbreaker had something for it.

Her eyes instinctively shifted to him — he was quietly staring at Jibran Ahmed, calm and unreadable.

Erum was about to make an excuse, but Jibran cut in again. “You said you got married today. I assume you have it with you right now.”

And then, Veilbreaker spoke.

“Our nikkah nama will be sent to your number — consider it proof that what’s done can’t be undone, father-in-law.”

“When will I receive it?” Jibran asked quietly, brushing past the title he’d just been called.

“Now.”

At that very moment, Jibran’s phone buzzed with a notification. Without breaking eye contact with Zayyan, he reached for it.

He unlocked the screen and opened the message. A picture of a nikkah certificate appeared.

His eyes narrowed as he examined it — not thoroughly, but long enough to register its legitimacy. Then he looked up and said:

“Fifteen days. Not twenty-five.”

Erum went still at her father’s unexpected statement. She turned to Zayyan, and what she saw made her doubt her own eyes.

His jaw was clenched. His expression serious.

There was an emotion flickering in his steel-grey gaze, locked on her father, but before she could name it, it vanished.

Did she just saw... an emotion in his eyes? In those cold steel-grey eyes?

Then his eyes met hers.

“Let’s go,” he said.

With that, he turned and began walking out.

Erum hesitated for a long second, considering whether to follow him, bidding such an abrupt farewell or tell her dad about it all.

But then again she knew, she'll get herself in trouble if she tries to do something on her own. And so, she made her choice.

She followed him.

Jibran didn’t stop her.
He didn’t call her name.
Didn’t throw a last demand or threat.

But she felt his eyes — burning into her back like an unspoken promise. Or maybe a warning.

Outside, the sky was shades of orange because of dusk. She had a massive amount of questions to ask him, but she kept walking.

Beside him. With him.

The car door opened. Zayyan didn’t speak. Just waited.

Erum sat dow quietly.

He got in beside her, pulled the door shut, and for a moment — neither of them spoke.

He started the engine, the BMW roaring to life. With practiced ease, he pulled the car out of the villa’s driveway. The gates opened, and they drove out into the fading daylight.