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   Chapter 80 NO.80

MAFIA INDEBTED (Mafia Series 1) By NSH_SHAHEEN Characters: 22954

Updated: 2018-05-18 22:41


Shehryaar opened his eyes as his mouth opened in heavy breathing. His body was covered in cold sweat.

Nightmares.

It was always the same.

He never knew that he could have dreams or nightmares. He only slept three to four hours: enough time to allow his body to rest and have a dreamless slumber.

Swallowing hard, he rubbed his eyes and sat upright. Instinctively, his hand went to his right side and found the place empty and cold.

He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed deeply.

She wasn't here.

Of course she wasn't.

She was only in his mind now: sometimes coming in his dreams and then ending up in his nightmares.

He quickly jumped out of bed and strode to the bathroom. A cold shower was in order. It seemed to be the only thing to relieve him. He stopped himself from thinking about anything.

He supported himself, leaning his hands flat against the tiled walls of the shower chamber as the ice cold water cascaded down his body. He didn't want to close his eyes, because every time he would; She would be there- her eyes, her face, everything about her would appear before his mental vision and his desire to claim her and have her back would grown hot and red, burning in his veins but he knew he couldn't take her back.

Maybe it was because he finally realised that he wasn't worthy of her. or maybe, he, like she had once said, too cowardly to face what he had turned her into.

He was restless like never before. He was completely deprived of peace of mind. That's when a thought came to mind.

He got out of the shower and quickly dried himself. Walking into his walk-in closet, he dressed up into a a plain white shalwar kameez suit.

It was almost Fajr time.

Maybe, prayer could help him get some peace of mind. He wasn't religious. He didn't believe that prayer could help in anything. He always believed it to be a form of ritual performed on occasions needed for show.

But he was selfish. And he wanted this restlessness to end.

He had heard Shahzeb tell him once that prayer was a way to relieve some steam. Of course, he had never taken his twin seriously. He had only observed his prayers on public occasions. It was just another one of his responsibilities as a leader.

But right now, he wasn't doing it out of duty. He was doing it out of selfishness. He wanted some vestige of peace.

He couldn't get it out of chaos. Maybe he could get it out of tranquillity.

And when he observed his morning prayers, he waited for the heavy feeling in his heart to dissipate. but it didn't and all that he was left with was his previous agitation and he couldn't get that peace. He couldn't help but feel like a hypocrite. Even in prayer he couldn't get the restlessness off of him. He still felt the same.

Of course, why would he feel better? He had nothing to show for it. He chuckled bitterly to himself as his eyes travelled up. I'm sure Your laughing at me right now aren't You? You probably think that I don't deserve it. he thought. Maybe I really don't. He thought he could ask God for something when he clearly knew he had nothing to deserve it.

Ironic really; an inhuman man desiring peace when he was about to cause chaos and destruction in a little time.

Fuck it. He thought as he got up and kicked the prayer mat away. I'm going to hell anyway, why would I resort to this? He thought resentfully.

But he couldn't help but feel a bit shameful.

Maybe it was the fact that he was about to meet his end. So many times he had come to meet death, but he always managed to narrowly escape death. This time though, he was willingly taking himself to the jaws of death.

And his life wasn't as he had thought it would be. He had nothing but regrets. He had accomplished nothing. Everything he had done so far didn't account to anything if she wasn't with him.

Life just wasn't worth living without her.

Shehryaar got dressed for work. He stared at his reflection as he did his tie.

His reflection was nothing short of perfection: piercing grey eyes, high cheekbones, sharp angular jaw with small prickles of a dark stubble.

Every resource he possessed, he used it as an asset.

He looked at his face and studied himself. He always found his good looks as a good tool for intimidation. His devilishly good looks always helped to set a good impression on outsiders. It was a good mask that he wore, along with a straight face and void eyes: mostly because he had no feelings concerning many matters in his life. Such matters only served a specific purpose and the only feeling he had towards the fulfilment of his motives was satisfaction.

He often wondered who he resembled. He didn't remember his mother and he had only seen his father a handful of times and he wasn't allowed to look at him for more then a minute.

But now, when he looked at himself, he couldn't help but think: what did this mask serve now?

This was the same face his victims looked at before they succumbed to death at his hands.

How easy it was to lure them in. Most of the time, in order to climb up the ladder of power in the underground, he always managed to make use of his good looks and deceive those around him. How he loved it when people would fall for his charm: it wasn't fake though and he never tried to fake it. It just came naturally to him.

But he felt too sardonic about it.

This stone cold face which rarely harboured any expression, always masking away his true feeling, what did it offer now? His face had served many a great purposes. His eyes wandered to his body, his eyes lingering on the expensive black suit he wore.

Women threw themselves at him, just to get a hold of him. It was always either his looks or his money for what people wanted him. That or favors. And then there was his blood: many sought him due to his Heritage. He didn't care about anything as long as it got the job done.

Everyone always wanted something.

And he always wanted more then them.

The world was too superficial and shallow.

But she was different.

She didn't want him for either his looks or his money or his heritage.

His eyes were void as always; soulless. He always wondered whether or not he had a soul. He always found it amusing. But now; he didn't. He gazed into his own reflection and tried to look for his soul. Did it even exist to begin with?

Sometimes his victims would curse him, praying that he'd get what's coming for him and suffer in hell.

Perhaps karma was getting to him now: because life without her was truly hell.

His misery grew by each passing minute.

The pleasure that he sought in his normal routine could no longer be felt.

Nothing made sense.

Life was just going by and he had no interest in anything.

When the woman he wanted the most didn't want him. Then Nothing mattered at all.

He forced himself to stop thinking. H

lt as if he had everything as long as she was by his side. This exhilarating feeling was felt so sublime.

Was this happiness? Joy?

Yes, perhaps it was. Because it came from Anissa.

And now that she was back, he was never about to let her go. He would make sure that she was always by his side from now on.

He carefully picked her up and laid her in the bed.

He felt hesitant to leave her side but now that she was back, he had so many plans.

He quickly left for his office.

Zameer saw his boss. He was the same, stoic and cold but something was different and Zameer could easily tell what it was. And he was further corrected when Shehryaar called in a board meeting and cancelled the dissolution.

And when the plan for attack on GHQ was cancelled, the Heads, except for the head of the north, were relieved and didn't argue in the least.

Zameer smiled to himself, patting himself on the back for a job well done. He knew that Anissa was the key to taming the beast.

"I want a huge party!" Shehryaar announced as soon as the Heads left.

Zameer resisted the urge to chuckle. He felt exonerated after all.

"Oh?" He raised a brow.

"Yeah, " Shehryaar smirked, his eyes staring into space, his mind occupied with the feeling of joy.

"I want everyone there. Every politician, businessmen, the whole fucking lot. It'll be grand. It's my first wedding anniversary after all." He said.

Zameer was surprised that Shehryaar didn't bother to ask him about how Anissa came back but it didn't matter. He knew that it was acceptable as long as Anissa came back.

"Do whatever you have to. It's gotta be fucking great." Shehryaar said in English.

Zameer nodded in acknowledge. "Leave it to me."

Zameer knew now that things might cool down a bit between the couple. He didn't underestimate Anissa though: he knew he had planted an idea in her head and he also knew that she would use that idea. He just hoped that it wouldn't result in anymore chaos.

***********

Anissa woke up in a familiar bed. She knew this one; it was the same bed she had woken up in when Shehryaar had kidnapped her.

She didn't feel like getting up. Her stomach was growling from hunger but her appetite wasn't something she wanted to give a thought to.

All that she could think about was ways to make the devil pay.

All she felt was anger and rage. It was fuel to her will and determination. All that she wanted now was to avenge herself. She refused to think about anything else. She thought everything she could. But she couldn't come up with any way to take revenge. She had no idea how to hurt him. It was clear as crystal that physical pain would do him no harm. She didn't know where to start or what to target. The monster had no weakness that she knew.

She hadn't realised it but she had fallen back to sleep. Shehryaar returned that night and slept by Anissa's side, caressing her face and holding her tightly in his arms. It was so unbelievable that she came back despite everything he had done to her. But he was grateful nonetheless. Maybe his prayers were answered, not that he had prayed for anything in earnest.

He didn't know why, but he couldn't get himself to go and get her back. Maybe it was his guilt stopping him.He didn't know but he was glad. She was back and that was all that mattered.

And now, he was going to do everything in his power to make amends and make her stay. He hadn't heard anything that Anissa had said to him: all his mind could focus on was her.

I'll make things right. He promised himself and slept. For the first time in a long while, he slept peacefully.

Anissa woke up the next day when she felt the sharp rays of the sun pierce through her eyelids and wake her into consciousness. She looked around and was reminded that she was back in Shehryaar's penthouse. Thankfully though. Shehryaar was nowhere in sight.

She didn't get much time to ponder on herself because many maids entered the room. Anissa didn't understand why they were here especially when they asked her to get ready.

"Why?" She enquired.

"There's a party that the master has arranged, madam." One of the maids replied. "It's a grand occasion. Congratulations on your wedding anniversary." She said.

She's eyes widened in surprise.

My wedding anniversary? She thought. A party?

And that's when something clicked in her head and a small sinister smile stretched in her lips.

Now she knew what needed to be done. She had finally conceived something.

The first step towards taking her revenge was finally at hand.

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