The Mafia's Bride

Chapter 22

Hayat’s POV

The car ride was quiet. Unusually quiet.

The music played low — some instrumental piece Hazar probably picked to avoid any awkward lyrics. I sat there, staring out of the window, my arms crossed, my chest tight.

I don’t know what was bothering me more — the ache in my back, the sharp stab in my lower stomach, or the fact that he hadn’t even asked how my day went. I mean, he picked me up. That was sweet. Thoughtful, even. But still…

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting near the gear, face unreadable as always. I hated that sometimes. The way he could look so calm while I felt like a storm inside.

Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was the fact that I had wanted to cry at a random puppy video an hour ago and snap Dua’s head off the next second.

Maybe it was that time of the month again. I could already feel it building — the heaviness, the irritation, the need to be held and left alone all at once.

We reached home in thirty minutes. The guards at the gate stood straighter as the car approached. The moment we stepped inside, I saw Fatima Bay heading to the kitchen.

I wanted to go straight to my room. Curl into my blanket and disappear for a while.

But then I heard him.

“Hayat,” Hazar called from the living room.

I turned, forcing myself to look calm. I was not calm.

When I walked in, I saw him standing next to a man — tall, in a suit, probably in his late twenties. His posture screamed military. My stomach twisted again, but not from cramps.

“He’ll be your driver and security from now on,” Hazar said casually, like he’d just asked what I wanted for dinner.

I blinked. “My what?”

He looked at me. “Bodyguard. You’ll need someone when I’m not around.”

“I don’t need anyone.”

“Hayat—”

“I’m not five. Or famous. Or in danger. I can take care of myself.” My voice was rising and I knew it, but I couldn’t stop. Everything inside me was spiraling.

“This isn’t about you being weak. It’s about you being important,” he said, tone firmer now. The guard quietly stepped back.

I shook my head, suddenly feeling hot, dizzy. “You didn’t even ask me. You just decided. Like always.”

He exhaled slowly and nodded to the guard, who left the room silently.

Silence stretched between us.

I hated how my eyes burned. Not because I was scared. But because I was tired. Of this house. Of being protected like a secret. Of everything suddenly being... too much.

And I hadn’t even started bleeding yet.

***

texted Azkar without thinking.
“You awake?”

“Always. What happened now?”

I didn’t wait. I called.

“He assigned me a bodyguard, Azkar. Without asking. Like I’m... a thing. Not a person.”

Azkar exhaled, like he’d been expecting this.
“That sounds exactly like something he’d do. Annoying, overprotective, mafia-type male behavior. You okay?”