Hirz-e-Jaan

Ulfat 7

Author's POV

Mehrunnisa's breath left her in a sharp, silent gasp. For a moment, she forgot herself, forgot the room, forgot the music, forgot why she was there at all.

"Nahi..." she whispered before she could stop herself.
(N-no...)

Haider didn't move at first.

He simply looked at her.

The gold-framed niqab.
The trembling restraint in her posture.
The way fear sharpened every line of her face.

Something dark and volatile passed through his eyes.
If someone else had won...

His jaw clenched.

Mehrunnisa stood abruptly, lehenga tangling around her legs.

"Tum...," she said, panic creeping into her voice. (You...)

The lock of the door clicked into place from the outside.

The sound echoed like finality.

"Tum yahan kya kar rahe ho?" she demanded, her voice shaking. (What are you doing here?)

He answered simply. He opened the buttons on his sleeves
"Kharidaar main hoon." (I am the highest bidder.)

Her chest constricted painfully. She watched his movements, completely frightened.

"Nahi, ye nahi ho sakta" she said, backing away. (No. This cannot be happening)

She turned toward the door.

Haider moved instantly, not touching her, but blocking her path with his body.

"Mujhe jaane do," she pleaded, her control slipping. (Let me go.)

"Tum gaana gaane aayi ho, to gao" he said calmly. (You came to sing, so sing)

She shook her head violently. "Tumhare liye nahi." (Not for you.)

His voice lowered.
"Aur main tumhein kisi aur ke liye gaane nahi doonga." (And I won't let you sing for anyone else.)

Her eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall.

Haider's words landed like a verdict.

Mehrunnisa's spine straightened despite the tremor running through her.
"Tumhe masla kia he? Mein jis ke liye bhi gaon," she said sharply, though her voice wavered. (What is your problem? I can sing for whoever I want)

She wiped at her eyes angrily, refusing to let him see her break.

"Mujhe qarz utarna hai," she went on, desperation bleeding through now. (I need to pay off the debt.)

"Aur wo main ada kar doon gi, jis tarah marzi karoon" she looked straight at him. (And I will pay it, however that might be)

Haider's jaw tightened.

"Tumhein lagta hai," he said slowly, dangerously calm, (You think—)

"ke yeh sirf paison ka masla hai?" (that this is only about money?)

She met his gaze, defiant even as tears gathered again.
"Tumhein sirf paisay chahiye. Baqi sab apka mamla nahi he" she said. (You only want the money. Everything else is none of your business.)

Something in Haider snapped.

"Achha," he said, a bitter smile touching his lips. (Fine.)

"Agar yeh mera maamla nahi," he continued, voice rising for the first time, (If this is not my business—)