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   Chapter 93 NO.93

MAFIA INDEBTED (Mafia Series 1) By NSH_SHAHEEN Characters: 10262

Updated: 2018-05-18 22:48

"I need to go to the bathroom." Anissa mumbled, slightly rubbing the kitten's head as it slept on her lap.

Shehryaar stared at her, studying her expression but she just gave him an unreadable poker face: he nodded and started to unbuckle the restraints around her wrists and ankles. He began to put his arms under her knees and shoulders when she pushed him away by the shoulders.

"I don't need you to carry me. I can walk." She murmured, her tone cold.

Shehryaar smiled. "Of course you can, " and he proceeded to carry her in his arms despite her struggle.

"I don't trust you with yourself." He stated as he began to walk towards the bathroom. But then again, she had lost his trust long ago.

It had been a week since he gave her Snow, the kitten, and slowly, he saw her mood lift and become a little less gloomy but he was glad nonetheless; it was a small change; at least she wasn't self destructive lately but that still didn't mean that he trusted her. She was always under his watch and even if he had to leave for a minute, he would tie her down to the bed and made sure that nothing was placed near her that she could use to harm herself with.

He had contacted the doctor incharge of Anissa's case and when he told about the recent developments, Shehryaar was informed that Anissa had slipped into severe clinical depression and it often lead to suicidal tendencies. So, Shehryaar took ever measure and spent as much time with her as possible and tried to engage in conversation or light activity with her but she wouldn't budge. The only time she even showed true emotions was when she played with Snow and so far, it was only the kitten that was keeping her at bay. so he had to be on high alert around her. She could do anything if she slipped back into her depression that caused her to become mentally unstable almost instantaneously.

Anissa scoffed and crossed her arms across her chest, her lower lip sticking out as she pouted. Shehryaar found it utterly adorable on her.

"I don't care. I need my privacy." She stated firmly. She felt his chest rumble as her shoulder shook: Shehryaar chuckled mirthfully.

"Of course you do honey, " he rasped and pecked her temple. "But I'm not giving in." He claimed and went straight into the bathroom. He carefully placed her at the entrance and stood by the frame. She glared at him but went ahead since the bathroom was a large space. After finishing her business, she came out and Shehryaar took her hand. She thought that he would put her back in restraints, he stopped by the walk in closet and pulled out a pair of slipper for her.

"Here, put them on." He said to her, his tone and eyes soft. She frowned but donned the slippers nonetheless. He himself put on his slippers and led her outside the bedroom. He didn't say anything and kept walking until they were outside the villa and walking towards the beach.

Shehryaar entwined his fingers with hers and began to stroll at a leisure pace with her by his side.

Anissa looked at the setting sun on the horizon. Her feet stopped and sh

lib once was. The woman that she used to be.

She was born and taken in by relatives who raised her like their own, but she always felt a sense of loneliness in that. No matter how much they loved her, she couldn't shake off the feeling of simple gratitude and felt out of place.

Then came her life as a student: always aiming to be at the top, always working hard. Her priorities were always straight.

She was always a good girl. Always a good person.

She always felt lucky. There were so many girls out there who were abandoned simply because they were born girls: but she was lucky, not only was she adopted and raised by family, but they loved and cherished her so much that she never once doubted their love for her.

She was their pride and joy. They gave her the confidence to stand tall and proud and face the world head on.

So much so, that despite her insecurities and complexes, she was proud and strong. Holding both envy and admiration of those around her.

Her heart was clean and pure. Her soul was righteous. She always tried her best to be a good woman, tried to live her life according to what she was taught.

She tried to be a good Muslim.

But now, what about now?

Where was standing now?

What was she now?

She couldn't fathom it anymore.

Her eyes welled up with bitter tears. She had nothing to live for. She had no one of her own.

She was lost.

Her own family had abandoned her and she was back for vengeance against the same person who abused and oppressed her. And she sought vengeance but in the process, she hurt herself even more, forever risking her future.

There was nothing left in her except for anger, hatred and pain; her heart was blackened by these emotions.

And all that pain manifested into rage and blinded her, making her transcend towards madness.

All her emotions were unleashed and in a fit of fury, her fist struck the mirror. The mirror shattered under her knuckles, breaking her skin, causing the blood to ooze out with bits of mirror stuck in her skin.

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