Why is he bringing this up ?
Why can't he let this rest?
" I fell from the stairs." I lie again through clenched teeth, my vision focused on the intricate patterns of the carpeting.
Mister Mirza wasn't present at home that day. Khalil was in the basement and Mrs.Mirza witnessed everything without objection.
"Your nightmares don't lie Sanam." Mister Mirza counters softly. "I hear you during the late hours, your nightmarish screams fill the entire home."
I grimace outwardly,then I uncross my arms and began to fiddle with the cuff's of my long sleeves. "If you are done saying what you have to say, may I please return to my room Mister Mirza?"
"You've been cooped up in that guest room since you've been here, you refuse to take meals with us. Whenever I catch a glimpse of you and Imran crossing paths, you seem deeply frightened." He reminds bitterly.
"That doesn't prove of what you say is the reason. I'm just feeling sick these days, but I'll recover soon. Now may I please return to my room?" I entreat, no longer wanting to be reminded of that horrible incident.
"Phone tappings and recorded conversation proves me right." Mister Mirza reveals in a grave tone.
I shoot him a gaze full of confusion.
He inhales deeply and turns his head away from me to direct a look at the far corner of the room before conintuing. "After the day I saw your fresh bruises and first couple of nights where you screamed in your sleep, I had to investigate on my own-I was under suspicion and phone tapping conversations between Razia and Imran proved my suspicions right."
"Then why haven't you called the police!?Why haven't you helped me!!?" I stammer through unrestrained tears leaking from my eyes.
He has the evidence all along and he's done absolutely zero to help me?
Mister Mirza redirects his gaze at me with a pained expression on his face as he states "Like you, I can't do much. Imran is gang affiliated. Yasir and the guys with him you saw at your nikkah, belong to a powerful street gang called The Burq Al Nar. If I go to the authorities, Imran will be arrested but his gang pals will kill you. I don't care if they kill me but I worry for you."
I am beyond alarmed by this unsettling revelation concerning Imran.
Without blinking my state of shock shifts into that of irateness as I glare at Mister Mirza rightfully so. "After knowing such horrid details about your son, you had me marry him !!?"
Mister Mirza flinches at my words as his expression slips into guilt and deeper sadness. " It was done to save you. Listen to me, your stepmother Naheed was scheming for your execution with Razia over the phone before all of this proposal business. Khalil had overheard them speaking a few months ago and he notified me. I thought I had persuaded Razia to have you as our daughter inlaw instead, I thought we'd fix Imran's life and save yours. But I had no idea of what Razia and Imran's ulterior motives are!"
My stomach churns in complete unease over the knowledge he's imparted.
I feel as if I'm being suffocated by his words alone. My hands tremble,palms developing clammy. I slide a finger under my hijab below my chin to loosen it.
Mister Mirza arises from his seat in sudden exasperation without glancing my way.
He reaches up and slips off his spectacles to wipe at his eyes and then readjusts them back before continuing where he left off. "I found out the ulterior motive two days ago on the constant phone tappings I've been doing. They plan to have me murdered and frame you for it inorder to acquire for themselves all the properties,assets and investments under my name."
I gape at him horrified and he nods grimly at me as he declares. "I can not allow them to succeed in framing you. We can't go to the police for this because Imran is involved with that gang. There is only one option left for me and you must go through with it Sanam."
"How do I know you're not lying !?" I sputter indignantly as I clench my fists and bolt up from the armchair.
"You don't believe me then here, take this USB and listen to it yourself on my laptop." Mister Mirza pulls open one of the desk drawers. Fishing out a USB and his laptop, he places them both atop his desk.
He begins to plug in all the equipment hastily but I end up interjecting. "Stop!I don't want to hear it! Hear them. Just stop."
He pauses to fix me with a confused expression. " why not ? Clear all the doubts you must be facing right now !"
"I'd believe you 100% if it were believable that Imran, your own flesh and blood wants you murdered." I state matter of factly.
"That's because he's not my son, he's not my flesh and blood." Mister Mirza confesses easily.
"What?!" I gasp in further disbelief. "How can this be?"
"Listen to the recordings of these past few weeks Sanam. I've come to learn only now that Imran is actually the half brother of Yasir. Razia was having a secret affair with Yasir's father who has passed away few years ago." Mister Mirza expounds forlornly.
I reach up to knead my forehead in perplexity. All of this new information is difficult for me to digest.
"You don't believe." He reiterates glumly. "Please, listen for yourself these recorded conversations!"
"I believe you.." I answer weakly, my eyes roaming restlessly as I search my mind for coherent words. "It's..starting to make sense..I just am in so much shock." I quickly look him in the eyes. "But now what ?"
Mister Mirza strolls out away from his desk and halts infront of me, studying me with obvious concern. "I need to get you to a safe location."
"What location ?" I question sharply.
He kneels down on one knee before me and evades my question by stating something I'd never expect. "Remember Rachael Nielsen? She called me weeks ago to apologise for her younger brother's disparaging treatment of you, which by the way you've failed to apprise me of. But nevertheless, she was sincerely sorry and emphasized it was over a big misunderstanding."
He receives another blank stare from me before I process this news. A split second later my arms cross over my chest as I crease my brows vexatiously.
"Why are you mentioning her ?" Suspicion laces my question. "Her brother??"
"She's a very good friend of mine and She's offered to protect you."
"What ?! How ?" I lean forward, grasping at the chair's arms.
"She's taking you under her wing, you'll remain safeguarded by her skilfully trained security guards." Mister Mirza explicates slowly.
My breath hitches in my throat and immediately I feel as if the room has grown frigid.
There in my mind flickers the image of demented pair of blue eyes while a velvety masculine voice of steel utters the words '..I'll slaughter you and feed you to my pet wolves.'
"I can't !" I bolt up from my seat and rush towards the door.
Just when I grasp the doorknob, Mister Mirza gently clamp's a hand on my small shoulder.
"Sanam you have no other choice." He mutters exasperatedly.
"You don't understand, her deranged brother threatened me! Surely you know those folks are the Mafia !" I peer at him over my shoulder accusingly.
"Rachael is aware of the threats her brother gave you and she's cleared every misunderstanding. Nothing will happen to you under her wing." Mister Mirza assures pleadingly.
"What's happening to my life ?! I didn't want any of this, being trapped between gangs and Mafias!" I stammer defeatedly knocking my forehead once against the door.
Silent tears return coursing down my cheeks.
"Rachael herself isn't an active member of the Mafia like her bother." Mister Mirza denies, shaking his head as he proceeds. "She's a headmistress of a prestigious university, she has her own security team. She's immensely wealthy and she's the only individual who can provide you safety from Imran."
He gently turns me around to face him but I only focus my vision down on my shoes.
"Come sit and recollect yourself." He mumbles guiltily. He guides me back to the armchair before offering me a Kleenex tissue.
I sniff and dab away at my tears, then heave a v
anquished sigh before muttering "I need a day or two to think this over Mister Mirza."
He nods in understanding followed by stating. "You haven't got much time, I'll give you two days to arrive to a decision since I'll be out of town for tomorrow over an important meeting."
◆◆◆
It's been 24 hours since Mister Mirza revealed to me such devastating details of the webs of deceit I am tangled in.
I haven't slept all night, there are bags under my eyes and my clothes are as disarrayed as the day Imran abused me.
Khalil implored me to eat the food he would sneak away into my room but it was left untouched.
I haven't even taken a brush to my hair and nor a bath. I don't know when it occurred but I ended up drifting into a restless nap eventually.
I dreamt the same dream where my mother's voice admonishes me to hold tight to the rope of Faith.
I awoke with a jolt by loud music booming from downstairs along with scores of voices hooting and laughing.
Imran is probably having a party now that Mister Mirza's away for a day.
My tummy aches from the lack of food and my tongue feels extremely parched from the lack of water. I rub at my eyes for a few seconds thinking over the fragments of my dream.
Immediate guilt washes over me for the reason that I have not heeded to my mother's advice.
I jump to my feet and gather up fresh set of clothes and towel to ready for a shower.
I need to pray and recite the Quran.
After my prayers, I remember that Mister Mirza had provided me an envelope which he stated was left for me in the mail box.
I grasp the battered yellowed envelope from the bedside table and notice it's got no return address.
My name is written poorly, instead of 'To Sanam Kashani' it states 'tu sNam kushni'.
I proceed to tear it open and slip out its content-which is a loose leaf crumpled paper appearing to have been torn from an old notebook.
I flatten it out on my lap and begin to read, but to my utter shock the words are poorly written as they are on the envelope.
U bitrayd mi Snum I tell u I <3 u but u mary not mi
I wil get rivange
I <3 u
Even though there are major spelling errors in this note, fear floods throughout me.
This is a second threat on paper I received. I needed to show Mister Mirza immediately like I revealed to him about the fortune cookie note yesterday.
I reread it and then hold it in place next to the fortune cookie note.
My fingers trembling as I scrutinise both papers. Realizing the latter one has very bad hand writing with misshaped hearts drawn all over while the former is well typed written by computer and the sheet is more crisp,thicker heavy paper-ones used for résumés and delicate golden filigree at edges.
It has to be from two different people.
The scuttling of feet behind the guest room door and the movements of the doorknob break my worried train of thoughts.
Thinking it could be Khalil with some food or water which I really need now, I trudge towards the door and open it. Much to my dismay I'm greeted with a scantily clad teenage girl popping her gum in my face.
Behind her I recognise one of Yasir's gang members. He's smooching her neck as he's peering at me with drugged eyes.
"Ugh! You said this room was never occupied." The girl mutters to the guy.
He's too busy sucking on her neck before he replies in between "She can watch us go at it baby."
I cringe and don't bother masking my expression of disgust. This only makes him wink at me.
"No! Let's go look for other rooms." The girl whines and then promptly drags him away down the corridor.
"Don't you be going to Imran's room, that's for him and his gf only." The guy pipes in as he trails behind her.
I shake my head in revulsion at their backs. My throat is growing drier and I began feeling light headed.
I really need to hydrate myself and I can't await Khalil to bring me a glass of water any longer. So I close the door behind me and descend downstairs to the kitchen.
Entering the kitchen I exhale in major relief when I see the coast is clear. The music is some sort of unknown hiphop to me as it booms and drifts all over the kitchen from the t.v. lounge. The house reverberates from it.
I access the fridge and grab ahold of the glass jug of water. I drink most of it with my eyes closed in silent gratitude.
I swear it felt like I had gone days without water even though it was actually only one day.
When I blink my eyes open, right across the island there is none other than Yasir.
I nearly yelp in fright as I bring my hand up to my chest.
"Mmm.. no ones made drinking water look that good." His voice slips out croaky and he clears his throat before continuing. "I'm thirsty as hell, it needs quenching."
An awkward silence descends around us. He stares at me expectantly.
"Here you go." I slide the water jug over to him awkwardly and then with haste I spin around to dash out of the kitchen.
Within seconds he's blocking my path, staring down at me with intensity.
"Not thirsty for water." His breath reeks of weed. I cringe backing away from him.
Ewww get away from me and brush your teeth!
I want to state but I think it's wiser that I exit the kitchen through the t.v. lounge entrance since he's blocking the path I entered through.
I sprint out of there and into the t.v. lounge full of dozens of guys and girls dancing, swaying, reclining and drinking.
The stench of weed and God knows what else is overpowering here. The air is hazy filled with smoke.
I feel the urge to gag but I pinch my nose. I trudge towards one of the curtained windows behind a couch on which a guy and a girl are making out as she grinds on top of his lap.
I can only see the back of the guys head and it appears familiar. Making sure not to touch them, I inch behind the couch, brush aside the curtains and push open the windows.
Immediately cool fresh breeze drifts in and I let out a breath.
"The fuck?"
My shoulders stiffen at the sound of Imran's angered voice. I turn around and find the guy who was making out seconds ago is actually him.
He's glaring up at me with complete vexation. The scantily dressed girl continues to grind on him as she monotonously peeks at me from under artificial eyelashes.
"Shut that fūckin window now!" Imran barks.
Without a word, I slide the window pane down and then began to walk away when he addresses me again.
"Say hello to my girlfriend, Nasirah" he orders.
"Hello." I glumly state and she only throws me a dirty look.
"Bitch! You thought you could steal Imran away from me?" She snaps.
"You can have him." I mutter under my breath.
Deviant Fixation Page 8