Amaan Hashmi was tall and handsome with a dimpled smile. Considered to be a Greek God with 6 ft heights, intense emerald eyes, a sharp nose, and a chiseled jawline, not many knew he was the owner of a golden heart. His broad shoulders and perfect body made him once the most eligible bachelor, full of life and dreams to conquer the world. He was not only admired by his peers but also looked up to by many entrepreneurs for his business acumen and engaging personality.
A self-made millionaire at the age of 23 and the youngest son of Salar Hashmi, he was prophesied to be the future heir to Hashmi Industries by many contemporaries, including his elder brother. With his strong family background and equally profound surname, people assumed him to be arrogant and self-centric, whereas the reality was far from it.
Unlike other heirs, he was never the work to brag about his daddy’s money. Instead, without seeking financial help from his father or surviving on his father’s reputation, he built his own company from scratch. He attained great success in a short period with his intelligence and his hard work.
He was never the one to take anything for granted and, although born with the silver spoon, was the humblest person who never revealed his family background. He didn't desire to attain anything in life because of his background. He wanted to prove himself based on his natural endowment and not his background. Whether it was his schooling or university studies, he was always a topper and never held a high air about himself.
Money, fame, family background, intelligence, and a great personality, he had it all, yet he never stepped back for any challenge or hardship. A prosperous business and cheerful persona made him the envy as well as admirable for many.
A strange rumor took shape that good looks were hereditary in their household; whether it is his father or his elder brothers, everybody seems blessed with great looks and a dashing personality. While he was easily approachable, it couldn’t be said the same for his father and brother. Salar Hashmi, a Magnus in the business world, was ruthless to the core when it came to his competitors. Wherever they went, they seemed to pass around an invisible aura of nobility around themselves.
Although they have a resemblance, what differentiates Amaan from his father are the dimples and emerald eyes he inherited from his mother, which twinkled and grew deeper whenever he laughed.
These were the first few things that attracted 'her' to him, even though she was oblivious to his background. After knowing Amaan was a scholarship student, her initial thought was that he might have come from a struggling class when they met in their university days.
She was his batchmate and was known as the most feared female in the university. She was an extrovert who could never stand injustice, no matter how strong or influential the opponent was. An outspoken who never sugarcoats her opinion or minces with words to attain favoritism. An average student but with extraordinary guts.
Unlike her fellow females, she never invested in fan- girling jocks or was interested in being a social butterfly. Instead, she was found spending most of her time with her boy gang, who adorned her even though she was the only female in their group.
A tall girl with her signature light brown hair and similar color set of eyes, envied by many for her beauty and a personality that can bring down anyone—beauty with brain guts.
The first time Amaan met her could be described as horrendous. Amaan was a business student while she was from the arts. Mistaking his identity with a boy accused of hitting one of her gang members, she strides towards him in the library before grabbing his collar.
Amaan, busy preparing plans for his startup, frowned at the stranger’s audacity. However, when he raised his eyes, what met him were brown orbs glaring at him. Later his gaze got arrested by her baby hair brushing against her skin and soft hair flitting around her like a halo. His eyes trailed towards her moving lips, and he couldn’t help getting mesmerized. She was talking to him, tightening her grip over his collar, but that was the least of his concern. A commotion formed around them, yet his attention was on her features.
He memorized the way her eyes shone in anger, only to change into mortification, realizing she was threatening the wrong guy. He chuckled, expecting her expression to soften, but instead, she brushed it off as nothing.
People have love at first sight, but for him, it was love at first fight. Since then, he followed her like a love-lost puppy until she didn't have any other option than to give in. Amaan reminded her every time of their first meeting just to instigate her and see her face going red.
"Ouch!”
“Nothing has changed since our first meeting. You were ready to hit me then, and you are ready to hit me now,” Amaan said, feigning getting hurt only to earn another punch on his chest from Raina.
“Humans tend to make mistakes. You dont have to rub it on my face,” she fumed.
"Well, humans tend to first ask and then react. But in your case, you first react and then ask,” he said to irk her more.
He didn't like when Raina was engrossed in her work and ignored his presence. He wanted her attention and was up for any antic just to get her riled up.
“Do you expect an apology?” when she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, Amaan’s eyes twinkled with mischief, “Technically, I never received an apology from you for threatening me in front of people.”
“Dream on!” she scoffs.
“Oh, I dream about many things, baby,” he said, walking towards her and leaning over her chair.
“And nothing about them is innocent. My every dream includes you screaming my name and,” he deliberately trailed, sliding his gaze over her body before locking it with her dazed eyes, “ enjoying being on top.”
Raina blushed deep red and avoided meeting his intense stare, knowing where their conversation would lead. Before she could retort, Amaan smashed his lips over hers in a fierce kiss.
"RAINA!"
Amaan screamed, waking up from his dream or the memory of her that he kept dreaming. The shirt he wore during his wedding clung to him like skin with his perspiration. No matter how much he tried, her memories haunted him day and night. As a last resort, he indulged in alcohol, which his family vehemently opposed. To ward off any confrontation, he started living alone in his penthouse, which he gifted to Raina on their anniversary.
Since the unfateful day, Amaan Hashmi was no longer the same charismatic man. In his place, a cold-blooded man void of any emotions resided. Working like a maniac, he was either found working to death or dazed in his wine. There were days his laugh would lighten the atmosphere, but now it looked like he forgot to smile.
Another reason for leaving his family mansion was the pity stare he got from his family and even from the staff. He didnt needs their pity or concern. If they really want to help him, they could get his Raina back. Wherever he went, all he could think of was Raina. Whether it's his home, room, office, or friend's company. Every place was associated with Raina’s memory, reminding him how much of the world she meant to him. Her absence drives his sanity to the edge.
People who used to enjoy his company started avoiding him, afraid of his uncontrollable outburst. His employees began fearing, and once, a female employee had a panic attack seeing his explosion. He could not focus on his work and instead started losing his project one after the other. Unable to understand what was happening, he started venting his anger on anybody anywhere.
For this reason, his father asked him to stay out of work and work on his anger management. This, instead, made him wilder and kept him apart from the world as he decided to live alone. His days were spent sleeping, and nights were spent drinking alcohol. It's been a long since he visited his family, and even if they try to contact him, he would simply turn off his phone. God knows when was the last he ate something except for the drinks. He reckoned if he didn't care about himself, Raina, like always, would come out of her hiding and take care of him. "Watching me like this, she will definitely come back," he thought.
"Where are you, Raina? You promised you would never hurt me? Why are you hurting me like this? Please come back, " he mumbled while leaning backward on the couch. Since that day, he never cried as if holding on to his emotions till the day she would be back, and he would let out his feelings. She was his dependency, without whom he doesn`t know how to live; she was his Moksha, without which he can`t be at peace.
He was still dwelling in her isolation when one day his parent decided to get him married again, and to his utter shock to none other than ASMAIRA. Listening to her name raised so much wrath in him to forget about marrying. Had he not promised, he would have killed her n number of times.
Amaan couldn’t help yelling, “I don't want to get married.”he was in the penthouse reminiscing his time with Raina there when the doorbell rang. At first, he thought it was housekeeping, but the intruder persistently rang the bell as if they knew he was inside. Irked at being disturbed, he opened the door only to freeze in his place, seeing his parents.His father spoke first, scrunching his nose as his son reeked of alcohol, “Thirty minutes, and I want to see you in the house.”Before Amaan could grasp it, his parents slid into the elevator with its door closed.Since the day he decided to leave his mansion and live in his penthouse with Raina’s memory, he didn't bother to visit his family or receive their call. A ruthless businessman, Salar Hashmi was known of, failed to talk to his son. He knew his younger son was stubborn to his core; however, he never expected him to stop living. Although he had many ways to speak to him, as a father, he never wanted to make it more difficult fo
"Are you sure about this, Asmaira? Is this your final decision?" Asmaira's father, Ehsan, asked.They were seated in her room. With her head down and habitual licking of her lips, she looked skeptical, unsure of her decision. Ehsan was sure his daughter, who had never taken a step without consulting him or his wife, wouldn’t be able to make a decision and would, as usual, ask him to decide. However, he was in for a surprise when Asmaira replied with one word, "Yes."Unable to handle the anger, he stormed out of her room, leaving a terrified Asmaira behind. No one knew what had happened between the father and the daughter or what they had spoken. The moment he left her room, disappointment was marring his face, while regret was evident on hers. Yet neither of them talks on the same topic further.On the other side of the city, Amaan parched on his couch, for once not intoxicated in his regular intake of alcohol. He was in his penthouse, anticipating his mother's call. It never happened
"No, please...... I didn't do anything. I swear I didn't know." Asmaira was crying in her sleep, mumbling unconsciously."Please......"Still clad in her wedding dress, she was cowering in her nightmare."Don't leave me. I am sorry, " she kept crying, holding herself together while lying on the floor.With her messy scattered around here, she was shivering with her eyes closed. One look at her, and anybody can guess she was in pain even in her deep slumbers. Her face was covered with beads of sweat mixed with her tears. Not a day had passed when she didn't have nightmares since she heard that news—the news which turned her world upside down. The news, which caused an invisible hole in her heart that never let her be at peace, the restlessness never left her since that day, and no matter how much she tried, she could never fill that hole. Never in her life has she been so helpless, and to make it worse, her savior was also not there with her."Raina!" She screamed, jolting up from he
Was she calling to taunt her for her lateness, or was she warning her of the rules? She had seen the Hashmi family at her wedding, and from the look of it, she was sure nobody was fond of her.Maya, by now, was sure the woman running before her would never be comfortable in the mansion or Hashmi’s lifestyle. Even if her humble background was ignored, her lack of confidence and edgy demeanor was so unlike Amaan’s first wife, who was the epitome of elegance and confidence. The woman before her was the complete opposite of what Amaan liked.No wonder he was against the marriage, Maya thought to herself, forcing a smile.“Ma’am wants to welcome you formally to the family. She insisted no one was to disturb y
"She had high expectations from you; I hope you won't disappoint both of us."Feriha’s words from earlier were ringing in Asmaira’s mind. She randomly strolled on the lawn aimlessly, not specifically moving anywhere. She needed her moment; she needed her time to settle. She was scared that she would let them down. She never left her family for a day, and here she was, living in new surroundings. She felt out of place.On cue, her mind flashed to Hania and Ishaal’s designer wears. Even Feriha’s simple yet classy attire gave away their elegance. She looked down at her modest dress and couldn’t help comparing. She noticed that she looked odd while sitting with them. Although they don't make her feel inferior nor look down upon her, her self-consciousness couldn’t let her miss the difference between her and them. M
Asmaira’s head went even lower at being humiliated in front of everyone, including the staff; however, Amaan found her action as her reluctance."I said get off that chair," grabbing her forearm, he yelled at her, not noticing the change in the surrounding. That was where his Raina used to sit, and she has tainted it.Asmaira yelped but obliged. With no other option, she obediently rose and waited for a further outburst from her husband. He was still holding her by her arm and was about to say something when he was interrupted by a bang sound. Both were immersed in their emotions, Amaan in his fury and Asmaira in her shock, failing to notice the rise in Salar's temper."Enough!" he roared while slamming his palm on the table, unable to hold his anger any longer.
Asmaira was grateful to Feriha for letting her have dinner in her room and then bringing her back to Amaan’s room. Her respect for her mother-in-law increased tenfold when she sat with her and advised Amaan to work on his behavior. However, there were limitations to which she could help Asmaira. Recollecting Amaan’s warning, she decided to continue to sleep outside the room to avoid crossing Amaan’s path. Staying in the same room was out of the question, and she couldn’t sleep on the couch, knowing he could and would kill her in her sleep. She walked out to the adjacent space to his room. The vast space surrounded by the glass railing could be her temporary habitant. Looking at the metallic garden swing with a leg rest in one corner, she knew who planned that sit-out interior. She heaved a sigh, grateful for the sliding door separating the room and the balcony. The blinders over the door gave her the necessary privacy from the tyrant prowling on the other side. “Must be Raina’s idea
“If he is hungry, he will join us,” Feriha replied a sliver of disappointment in her tone. Last night Amaan said he would work on the marriage. Though she wasn’t expecting a miracle from him, he could have made an effort to be part of breakfast at least. She was a woman who gave importance to family values hence her insistence that family should eat together. “I was wondering if I could prepare his breakfast before he leaves for office.”To Feriha, it looked like Asmaira was proactive in molding herself into the role of a wife, whereas the fact was far from the truth. Her only intent was to know Amaan’s routine to plan her time with Kabir. Since the devil has warned her to stay away from Kabir specifically, she can’t risk it. Not when Kabir hadn’t opened up to her yet.Feriha let out a sad smile. If only she knows what is going on inside Amaan’s head. “While I won’t stop you from doing that but get accustomed to living here first. And as for him leaving for office,” she faced Sal