Third Person POV

“Shall we?” Aryan asked as he and Alena stepped into the grand lobby of WS Corporations.

She nodded with a polite smile, and together they entered the vast hall. To the left, a receptionist’s desk stood, while a neat row of sofas lined the right side. Ahead were elevators, and a staircase curved upward to the left. They walked toward the receptionist.

“We’re here to meet Mr. Wahaj and Mr. Asfandyar,” Alena said, her voice calm but professional.

“Is Mr. Aryan here?” the receptionist asked, glancing up.

“I’m Aryan Kaif Hashim,” Aryan stepped forward. “Mr. Wahaj invited us today.”

“Welcome, Sir.” She smiled warmly and gestured toward the elevators. “Mr. Wahaj is on the second floor. Please go ahead, I’ll inform him of your arrival.”

They stepped into the elevator together. Alena’s brows knitted slightly. “What do you think? Is it really worth coming here? We don’t know much about them, yet our fathers want us to consider a partnership.”

Aryan nodded. “True. Honestly, I liked your designs more.”

She smiled at his compliment. “Thank you… but let’s at least see their work too.”

As the elevator doors slid open, they walked to another receptionist’s desk. Alena spoke again, “We’re here to see Mr. Wahaj.”

“Please, this way.” The woman smiled and guided them toward a meeting room.

The room was empty. “Sir Wahaj will be here shortly,” the receptionist said before leaving.

They settled into their seats. Alena began pulling out her designs and files, but Aryan noticed the way her hands trembled ever so slightly.

“Relax,” he reassured softly. “This isn’t an interview, just a meeting.”

Her lips curved in a small giggle, tugging at her lower lip nervously. Aryan’s thoughts, however, drifted elsewhere—to Sohan. Her name escaped his lips before he realized.

“Sohan?” Alena looked at him curiously.

Before Aryan could respond, a voice broke the silence. “So beautiful.”

They both startled and turned. A young man stood at the entrance, his gaze fixed solely on Alena. With a confident smile, he stepped further inside, never once breaking eye contact.

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeated, his words directed at Alena.

“Excuse me?” she frowned, clearly unsettled.

“I mean… you truly are beautiful, Miss Alena Bakhshi.” He extended his hand.

Alena glanced at Aryan, silently seeking permission. Aryan gave a small nod, and reluctantly, she shook the man’s hand.

“Nice meeting you,” she said coolly.

“Forgive me for my boldness,” the man said, flashing a smile. “But Miss Alena’s beauty is… distracting.”

Aryan’s jaw tightened, but he smiled politely. “That’s true. She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out.”

Wahaj—clearly a man who enjoyed flirting—chuckled and motioned for them to sit. “Let’s get down to business. Please, have a seat.”

As they settled, Aryan asked, “And your partner, Asfandyar Khan? Our fathers spoke of both of you.”

“Oh, Asfandyar,” Wahaj waved it off. “He’s out of town on work but will join us soon.”

The conversation shifted to designs, fabrics, and collaboration plans, but Aryan’s mind was restless. Two things gnawed at him: the thought of Sohan, whose silence felt heavier with every passing hour, and Wahaj’s shameless eyes lingering on Alena. She was beautiful—Aryan himself had noticed—but he had never once looked at her the way Wahaj did. The man was cheap, and Aryan’s patience thinned with each glance.

He was just waiting for the meeting to end, desperate to hear Sohan’s voice.

---

Meanwhile, Malik sat at his desk, eyes fixed on a photograph of her. His phone buzzed.

“Roney,” he spoke quickly.

“Malik Sir, are you alright?” Roney asked, his eyes tracking someone at a distance.

“Is she okay? Are you near her?” Malik’s voice was restless, urgent.

“She’s right in front of me, Sir,” Roney reassured. “Walking with Soha in the valley. She’s safe.”

Malik exhaled slowly but his tone hardened. “Did you find him? That bastard Asfandyar? If he dares touch her, I’ll cut him into pieces.” His voice roared with fury.

“I’m trying, Sir. No success yet,” Roney admitted, still watching the two girls from afar.

“Stay close. Don’t let anything happen to her. I’ll start breaking down Sardar Wahaj’s network myself.” Malik’s voice was steady, dangerous.

“Yes, Sir. May Allah be our helper,” Roney replied before disconnecting.

Malik leaned back, pulling open a drawer. He took out a photograph—Soha’s Nikah picture with Aryan, from their childhood. His eyes grew darker as he stared at it.

“Soha,” he murmured, a strange smile tugging at his lips. “Do you remember… your Nikah?”

“I hope not,” he whispered before tucking the picture back. His thoughts lingered on her, restless and dangerous.

A knock came at the door. Rubab entered with a file. “Sir, I have some information.”

She placed the report on his desk. “Two containers are moving from the south side, crossing the border. Most likely filled with trafficked girls. Sardar Wahaj is leading it.”

Malik rose immediately. “We can’t let them cross. We’ll save the girls before they’re lost.”

He strode toward Ubaid-ul-Allah’s office, Rubab following.

“Sir,” Malik called as he entered.

Ubaid-ul-Allah looked up, his expression grave. “You heard?”

“Yes. But remember, we must capture Wahaj alive,” his senior reminded him. “He may lead us to the heads of this network.”

Malik nodded firmly. “May Allah ease our path to truth.”

With a final salute, he left the office, his mind and heart set on the dangerous mission ahead.

--------

Third Person’s POV

The mountains of Swat stood tall, majestic, their snow-dusted peaks hidden in a veil of mist. The rolling green hills stretched endlessly, while dark forests wrapped around the valleys like protectors of some ancient secret. At the lake’s edge, the water shimmered—icy cold and still, reflecting the grey clouds hovering above. The beauty of the land was overwhelming, but to Soha, it felt like a gilded cage. She couldn’t shake off the gnawing sense that danger lurked within this paradise.

The drizzle had begun, light and delicate, falling like a string of pearls scattered from the sky. Her friend Khirad’s cheeks were glowing as she smiled at a message on her phone.

“He called, didn’t he?” Soha asked knowingly.

Khirad blushed, lowering her eyes. “He did.”

“Good,” Soha teased, nudging her lightly. “Stay happy. You deserve it.”

Before Khirad could respond, Soha’s brother appeared, his brows drawn tight. His gaze, however, was not on his sister but on Khirad, who quickly averted her eyes.

“Where were you both going?” he demanded.

“Why are you asking?” Soha folded her arms, unimpressed.

“Your Aryan was calling, but you didn’t pick up,” he shot back.

Soha pulled out her phone, already stepping aside. A second later, Aryan’s warm voice filled her ear.

“Hey, Sohan. Enjoying yourself?”

She smiled despite the chill in the air. “It’s beautiful here, Aryan. The mountains, the lake, even the rain—it’s like another world. I just wish you were here.”

“One day we’ll go together,” Aryan promised. His voice softened, then grew more serious. “I’m leaving for London tomorrow. Baba wants me to go—just two days.”

“With Alena Bakhshi?” The frown on her face deepened.

“Yes. She’s my partner; she has to be with me.”

“I don’t like her,” Soha admitted, her voice sharp with an edge she didn’t mean to show.

Aryan sighed. “Come on, she’s a good person. You’ll see when you meet her.” His tone shifted abruptly. “Okay, I have to go. Talk later.”

The line went dead. Soha muttered under her breath about Alena, her heart restless.

Not far away, hidden beneath the trees, another pair of eyes watched her. Cold. Calculating. Dangerous.

“Six girls, Sir,” came a voice in Asfandyar’s earpiece.

“Good. Make it seven,” Asfandyar whispered, his gaze locked on Soha. “Seven’s my lucky number. The one in the skin-colored leather jacket—she’s mine. Wait for my signal.”

He cut the line and dialed another number. "Asfandyar, the delivery’s ready. Heading toward the border.”

Asfandyar’s laugh was low, sinister. “And the sparrow?” asked Wahaj from other side.

“She’s just within reach.” Asfandyar’s eyes narrowed on Soha.

“You know the sparrow has to die,” Wahaj warned.

“Perhaps,” Asfandyar smirked, his gaze hungry. “But first, I want to cage her. Feel her struggle before she breaks.”

“Control your desires. Baba Sahib wants revenge, not your obsession,” Wahaj snapped, but Asfandyar only chuckled.

“She’ll be mine first. Then she can die.”

Wahaj disconnected the call, his jaw tight.

-------

On another hillside, Roney’s phone buzzed. His contact’s voice was panicked.

“six girls are missing from the group.”

Roney’s face hardened. “I knew it. They’re moving. Boys, surround the hills. They’ll come for her. We can’t let them take Soha—or the others.”

His eyes tracked her from afar. Khirad was still by her side, but danger was closing in. Think, Roney. Think.

His gaze fell on Khirad’s neck. The pendant. The one he had given her on her 17th birthday. His chest tightened with dread, but there was no choice.

He dialed her number. She picked up instantly, her voice soft. “Yes?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, trying to mask the urgency in his tone.

“Of course. What happened?” she asked, stepping aside from her friends.

“Are you wearing the pendant I gave you?” His voice trembled.

“Yes… but why are you asking?” Her fingers brushed over the gold, heart-shaped pendant.

“There’s a button on the back. Press it.”

“Button?” Her brows furrowed.

“Meri jaan, please. Do as I say. Don’t be afraid. Just trust me.”

Her eyes flickered toward the trees. For a moment, she thought she saw him. Her heart skipped, but she pressed the button.

Roney’s phone lit up with her location. Relief surged through him. “Good girl,” he whispered.

From above, the girls began to descend the hillside, guided by Khirad’s gentle words. She lingered behind, waiting—just as he asked.

--‐------
Third Person’s POV.

Arhaan’s eyes scanned the crowd, searching desperately. First for his sister Soha, then—inevitably—for her. The thought of Khirad brought an involuntary smile to his lips, softening his otherwise restless face.

And then, he spotted Soha. Relief washed over him as he strode toward her.

“Hey, my brother’s Rapunzel,” he called playfully.

Soha turned, her lips curling into a grin. “Hey, cute brother.”

But Arhaan’s eyes swept past her to the group of girls at her side. His smile faded. Khirad wasn’t among them.

“Where’s Khirad?” His voice betrayed his unease as he searched the faces again.

“She’s coming. And you can’t go there,” Soha answered quickly, grabbing his arm to tug him away.

“What is she doing up there?” Arhaan’s gaze lifted to the hill where Khirad stood alone, her silhouette framed against the fading light.

“Waiting for someone. Now come—let’s have tea.” Soha marched ahead, pulling a thermos from her bag. She poured steaming tea into paper cups, handing one to him.

Arhaan sipped, his eyes still straying toward the hill. “It’s warming,” he muttered, though his focus remained elsewhere.

Soha caught his distracted expression and frowned. “What’s with you? You’re looking like a spy.”

Arhaan arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

She gestured at him with mock suspicion. “That black woolen shirt, the same leather jacket, the hoodie… and wait—what’s in your ear?” She leaned forward to touch it, but he jerked back.

“It’s an earphone, for God’s sake. And yes, I wish I could spy—but without good height, what’s the point?” he teased.

Just then, someone bumped into him from behind. Hot tea spilled forward, splashing onto Soha’s jacket and dress.

“Oh, Allah! What have you done, Arhaan?” she exclaimed, glaring at him before whipping around to see the culprit—his laughing friend.

“You and your friends!” she snapped, anger flashing in her eyes.

“Okay, sorry! Here…” Arhaan quickly took a spare black jacket from his friend and handed it to her. “Change into this. I’ll stay here with your friends.”

Soha gave him a sharp glare.

“Please wear it, otherwise your Aryan will kill me if you catch a cold,” Arhaan added with a crooked smile. That earned him a reluctant smirk from her, and she snatched the jacket.

But before Arhaan could step away, their teachers approached, holding clipboards for attendance. The chatter died down as students began gathering into lines.

One by one, the names were called. But the count didn’t match. Too many were missing.

The principal’s brows knitted. “Where are these students?” His voice rose in alarm.

Teachers exchanged worried looks. “These girls… weren’t they with all of you?”

A ripple of panic spread. Boys scattered across the hillside, shouting names, searching frantically. Soha’s face paled, fear tightening her chest.

Arhaan placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Stay with your friends. Change your jacket.” With that, he rushed off to join the search.

---

Not far away, another set of eyes was watching. Hidden among the trees, Asfandyar’s voice was low, commanding.

“They’ve noticed the missing girls. We don’t have much time. Pick the one standing on the hill.”

One of his men squinted at the figure descending slowly. “Yes, Sir. She’s coming down. No one’s watching.”

“Good. Take her,” Asfandyar ordered, his cold gaze fixed on Khirad, mistaking her for Soha.

---

Meanwhile, Khirad quickened her steps, clutching her jacket as she made her way down the hill. Roney’s message still lingered on her phone, urging her to return to the group. Her heart pounded with unease. The valley had grown too quiet, the air too heavy—as though something unseen lurked in the shadows.

She could already see the cluster of girls standing far ahead. Relief pushed her feet faster. Just a few more steps.

But before she could reach them, rough hands seized her from behind. A cloth smothered her mouth and nose, the sharp scent of chloroform burning her senses. She struggled, muffled cries tearing from her throat, but within seconds her body went limp.

“Sir, we have her,” one of the men reported over the phone as they laid her unconscious form in the back of a jeep.

“Good. I’m coming,” Asfandyar replied. His gaze flickered back toward the panicked students and teachers scrambling across the hills. His eyes lingered on the group of girls clustered together, though Soha’s face was hidden among them.

“I wish I could take them all,” he muttered, his expression dark with greed before slipping away into the shadows.

---

By late evening, the situation had grown dire. Clouds gathered overhead, the sky bruised with the promise of rain. Seven girls were missing. Teachers’ voices shook with panic, students whispered frantically, and the principal’s face turned ashen.

“This is no small matter,” he said, his voice heavy. “We must return to the hotel before anything worse happens.”

The order was given, and students hurried onto the buses. But as Soha turned back, her heart clenched.

“Khirad!” she called, her voice breaking. She turned to her professor. “Sir—Khirad isn’t here!”

Searches began again, but the result was the same—nothing. Khirad was gone.

The girls panicked, some crying openly. Teachers’ voices grew sharp, urgent. “Get inside, quickly!” the principal commanded, ushering them into the buses.

As the vehicles pulled away, Soha’s tears finally fell. Her chest ached as fear consumed her. Where did Khirad go? Her mind replayed every moment, every smile, every laugh—now replaced by the terrifying question of whether she would ever see her again.

By the time they reached the hotel, the storm broke. Rain lashed against the windows as police officers crowded the lobby. Reports were filed, statements taken, the words ten girls missing repeated again and again until it echoed like a curse.

The students sat huddled together in the hall, the once-lively group reduced to silence. No laughter. No chatter. Only whispers of prayers, heavy sobs, and the weight of fear pressing down on every heart.

The night had turned into a nightmare. And no one knew if morning would bring hope—or more darkness.
-----

Meanwhile, Roney was already on the move.

“They took ten girls,” he reported to Malik over the phone.

“What about her?” Malik’s voice was sharp with fear.

“She’s safe,” Roney said quickly, though his chest tightened. “But they have Khirad.”

“You let them take her?” Malik roared.

“I had no choice! Soha had to be protected. But I won’t let anything happen to Khirad. I swear it on my life.” His eyes burned as he clutched the steering wheel.

“The location?” Malik demanded.

“Takht Bhai. The old Buddhist monastery. They’re hiding in the ruins.”

“That’s hours away from Swat.” Malik cursed under his breath. “Move fast, Roney. Get her back before they cross the border.”

“I will,” Roney swore. “Even if it kills me.”

The rain lashed harder as their jeeps sped toward the ancient ruins. The monastery loomed in the distance, its stone walls dark against the stormy sky. Stairs upon stairs led to the hilltop, nearly three hundred steps carved by time itself. They climbed, drenched but relentless, hearts pounding with each step.

When they reached the top, the ruins looked like a labyrinth of shadows. Dozens of tiny stone cells opened into darkness, bats swooping past their heads. Somewhere within, muffled voices echoed.

“Light. Find any sign of light,” Roney whispered.

His phone beeped. The pendant’s signal grew stronger. Following it, he reached a hall lit faintly by lanterns. Guards circled the entrance. His men spread out, masks pulled tight over their faces.

“I’m going in,” Roney said, tying a black cloth with a small embroidered “K” across his nose.

He slipped inside like a shadow. A roar echoed through the hall.

“You fools! I said the girl in the leather jacket. I wanted Soha!”

Roney froze at the voice. His eyes locked onto the man with sharp blue eyes and a cruel mouth.

Asfandyar.

And there—Khirad. Pale, trembling, her wrists bound, her eyes wide with terror.

Roney’s jaw clenched. His men rolled smoke canisters into the room. White fog billowed instantly. Shots rang out. Chaos erupted.

Roney charged through the haze, his fist colliding with Asfandyar’s head. The man crumpled, unconscious, blood trailing down his face.

Roney didn’t stop. He ran to Khirad. She stumbled, coughing, almost collapsing into his arms.

“Shhh. It’s me, meri jaan,” he whispered, holding her tightly.

Her hazel eyes lifted weakly to meet his dark ones. Relief flickered through them before tears poured down. “You’re so bad,” she sobbed, hiccupping against his chest.

“I know,” he murmured with a shaky laugh, kissing the top of her head.

“Sir, the other girls!” Munir’s voice cut through the haze.

“Take them. Get them to safety. Now!” Roney ordered without letting go of her.

But before they could move, a sharp pain tore through his back. His breath caught. He turned slowly.

Asfandyar. Awake. Smirking. The knife still buried in Roney’s flesh.

“You think you can catch me so easily?” he sneered.

Roney’s vision blurred, but rage gave him strength. With a roar, he lunged, slamming Asfandyar to the ground. Fists rained down until blood stained the stone floor.

“You don’t know,” Roney growled between punches, “how long I’ve waited for this.”

Behind him, Khirad trembled. Her eyes filled with horror as she saw the knife still lodged in his back, blood soaking his shirt.

Then he turned his head toward her, forcing a smile through his pain. “My lady…”

Her lips parted in shock.

“Will you take this knife out for me? It hurts,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Her hands shook violently. “M-me?”

“Yes, you.” His smile wavered, but his voice was steady. “Only you.”

Author’s Note:
Assalam-o-Alaikum dear readers 💕

How are you all doing? I hope life is treating you kindly. This chapter carried a little more suspense and unease, didn’t it? Malik’s presence is beginning to feel more and more dangerous, and the way he observes silently makes everything heavier. Sometimes the smallest moments in life—like a glance or a voice from behind—can change the whole direction of a story. That’s what I wanted to capture here.

Tell me, did you feel the same chill that the character felt in this scene? Do you think Malik’s intentions are clear, or is he still a mystery? I love hearing your theories and thoughts, so don’t forget to share them with me in the comments.

Your love, support, and votes keep me going, so please keep them coming. 💖

Till the next update, Allah Hafiz.
Keep reading… keep smiling… 🌸