LET ME HATE YOU

Shopping

The last thing Asmaira wanted was to work with Amaan. Although he had taken her by surprise, she intended to stall for time and eventually concoct an excuse with Feriha's help. If necessary, she could always claim she preferred to work alongside Feriha.

"Get ready! We'll go together," Amaan said, making Asmaira involuntarily blurt out, "Where?"

"Office," he replied with a shrug.

He immediately saw through her attempt to escape and formulate a plan later. He would have laughed at the naivety of the woman, whose emotions were so easy to read, had he not despised her so deeply. With Feriha acting as her support, Amaan knew he had to sever their connection. For him, forcing Asmaira to work in his office was the perfect way to achieve two goals: keep her away from Feriha and also from Kabir.

"I don't have appropriate clothes," she offered the first excuse that came to mind. She waited for Salar or Feriha to step in, but the surrounding silence confirmed she was on her own.

Amaan looked at Ishaal and asked with feigned anger, "Didn't you tell my wife you have a couture boutique?"

"I did. She might have forgotten," Ishaal replied, while feeding her daughter.

"Can you make an arrangement now? I'm sure you can; perks of being the boss lady of the boutique," he winked playfully.

"I will tell Lisa to show you around. I need to drop the kids at school today. If you are still around later, I might show you my exclusive collection," Ishaal said, genuinely pleased for Asmaira.

"That's settled then. Shall we go?" Amaan extended his hand to Asmaira.

Conscious of all the eyes on her, Asmaira placed her hand in his and stood up. Amaan did not miss her slight tremble and deliberately interlocked their fingers, maintaining the pretense he had specifically created for his family's benefit.

Feriha's unusual silence prompted Salar to say, "Until yesterday, you were worried about their marriage. Now that he is taking the initiative, why are you uneasy? Let them handle it."

Because you don't know how cruel your son can be when he's angry. And he is misdirecting his anger at the wrong woman. If anyone, he should be upset with Raina, Feriha thought, looking at Asmaira's back.

As soon as they were out of the mansion, Amaan swatted Asmaira's hand away and strode toward his car. Humiliated by his action, she clutched the fabric of her top and stopped in her tracks.

The very next second, Amaan's warning came from inside the car, "Get in, or I can do the honors. Fair warning, I won't be gentle."

One thing Asmaira knew about Amaan was that he always followed through on his threats. Her mind mocked her for not preparing herself enough for her husband's true nature. Knowing how he treated his victims would have been useful; she could have at least learned how to protect herself.

Reluctantly, she reached for the back door handle, only to find it locked.

"Sit in front," his command only fueled her anger.

But she was in a difficult position. She knew shopping was just a pretext and he had a hidden agenda. The 'what' and 'why' would only be answered once she cooperated. When they stepped into Ishaal's couture boutique in the suburb, a saleswoman approached them.

"Good morning. I'm Lisa. Ishaal Ma'am asked me to be at your service."

"Help her pick out office wear," he instructed, dismissively pointing at Asmaira.

Perching on the couch, he narrowed his eyes, observing his wife's tense body and nervous gestures: the constant pushing of her glasses up her nose, tucking hair behind her ears, or crossing her arms to hide a twitch.