Forcefully Yours (Mafia Love Story) New Version

20| Guilt And Regret

Love a girl who writes,
And live her many lives;
You have yet to find her,
Beneath her words of guise.

Kiss her blue inked fingers,
Forgive the pens they marked.
The stain of your lips upon her-
The one she can't discard.

Forget her tattered memories,
Or the pages others took;
You are her ever after-
The hero of her book.

- Lang leav
Credit - pinterest

I couldn't help but share this. It was beautiful.

Anyway back to business.

The above picture is of Humza ♥
And this is his POV
Enjoy!

G U I L T A N D R E G R E T

W O R D C O U N T: 2693

Regret was a foreign concept to Humza.

He never did anything without calculating the consequences, without weighing the risks. His entire life had been built on control—on discipline, on logic, on the firm belief that emotions were nothing but an unnecessary liability.

But tonight, he had lost control.

And he despised himself for it.

The engine of his car roared as he sped through the dark streets, but his mind was stuck in that single moment—the moment his hands had wrapped around Anaabiya's throat.

The memory burned.

He could still feel it, the delicate curve of her neck under his fingers, even from under her hijab, the way her pulse had pounded against his palm, rapid and terrified. He could still see the sheer horror in her eyes, the way she had struggled, gasped, clawed at his wrist, fighting to breathe.

And yet, he hadn't let go.

His grip had only tightened, fueled by the storm inside him.

A storm that had erupted the second she had uttered that name.

His father's name.

His beloved father's name.

For a fleeting second, the image of his lifeless body seared through his mind.

And then, as if pouring fuel onto an already raging fire, she had mistakenly addressed his father's brother as his father.

That man didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve to be associated with his father in any way.

That man had been erased from his life a long time ago. Or at least, that's what he had told himself. He had buried him, locked him away in the deepest parts of his mind, refusing to acknowledge his existence.

But with just a few words, Anaabiya had ripped the past wide open.

And he had lost himself.

His fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.

It scared him.

Not just the memory of what he had done, but the realization of what could have happened if Bibijaan hadn't come in when she did.

For the first time in years, a foreign, unsettling feeling crept into Humza—something dangerously close to fear.

He had ended countless lives without a second thought, but taking hers?