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Confrontation

Hello Peoples,

Such a lovely day to start, so grab your cup of tea or coffee and let the warmth of the day wipe away your sorrow. If you like the story so far, or if you feel it has scope for improvement, don't forget to comment below or like.

Till then, Peace and Love 

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"I said get off that chair," grabbing her forearm, he yelled at her, not noticing the change in the surrounding air, which started freezing.

With no other option, Asmaira obediently rose to wait 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, not able to hold his anger any longer.

"This is my home and not your bloody bar where you can come and leave, not minding your behavior in front of your parents." The pathetic smell of alcohol made his anger accelerate.

"I want you in my study in 5 mins and make sure you are in your senses when I talk to you," pointing at Amaan and marching out of the dining room. 

Everybody else was also not in a good mood seeing Amaan drowned in alcohol and losing his anger in front of the family. Fariya glared at her youngest son, pulling Asmaira out of his grip, who still tightly held her as if venting out his anger and frustration through his force.

How did a happy man like him turn into a mess? Jamshed sighed, looking at Amaan. Hania, noticing her husband's sadness, pressed his shoulder as if comforts him, for which he nodded. There was a silent understanding between them. While in their room, Hania embraced Jamshed and told him, “Don't worry about him; he will be fine. He misses Raina. Give him some time.”

Jamshed faced her and spoke in a distressed tone, “He was never like this. My brother was so full of life and now look at him; he looks like a zombie without any emotions, always smelling alcohol. He even doesn't care about his only son, Kabir.”

Hania felt heartbroken seeing her husband in a sad state.

Asmaira, you are our only hope; thinking about the recent event in the dining hall, Hania couldn't help feeling pity for Asmaira.

Salar stood near his desk in the study, with hands in his trouser pockets, staring out of the window. Though he was looking out, his eyes were blank as if looking at nothing. He didn't move from his place when he heard a knock. He was still contemplating how to approach his stubborn son. He, the mighty Salar Hashmi, who never bowed in front of anyone, no matter how powerful his opponent is, was thinking about negotiating with his own son.

“Come in,” still not turning his head.

He looked haggard, could not even walk steadily. He recollected his son's appearance when he came into the dining hall.

Amaan sees that his father still didn't turn around, cleared his throat to let him know his presence.

Salar knew his son was in pain and was battling an inner struggle, and he couldn't help him. He knew Amaan was remorseful in front of him, yet he had to be cold towards him, not letting his fatherly love come into the picture.

Without turning, he coldly said, ”You have two options, one leave that penthouse and start with your new life or….” slowly turning and looking straight into those lonely eyes of his son said, ”Sign the paper,” pointing towards the set of documents on his desk. 

Amaan was well aware of his father's devilish negotiation tactics; he himself, on numerous occasions, witnessed it. Behind those simple words was a warning, a warning for Amaan, and it was not going to be in his favor. Without asking further questions, he walked towards the desk and saw the papers.

With wide eyes and a furious look, he scanned the entire document. He looked up at his father with a frown, who was gazing at him, “You can't do that.”

“Oh! Yes, I can, and I will if you don't cooperate”. This time Salar gave his son an evil smile, knowing well that his son will have no other choice.

“I already did what you asked me to. I married her; what more do you expect from me?” Amaan gritted his teeth to calm his anger and said each word.

“I want you to move on,” with that saying, Salar left his study knowing that his son would have to choose to live in the mansion. Giving a last glance towards his son, he turned the doorknob and walked away.

You play really well, Asmaira, manipulating my father to force me either to stay with you, or you will get all the shares of Raina; well played your trick, Amaan sneered.

No matter how much he loathes her, he has to be smart now. He underestimated her.

And you thought she was shy and stupid, Raina,  how much she fooled you? She is here to take your place, and she thinks I will let her do that. He smirked.

He was not surprised to see Fariya with Asmaira in his room, as he already contemplated.

She is using everyone to bend me to her whims, will not be surprised if she tries to get close to Kabir; after all, he was her trump card, Amaan thought while giving a blank stare to his mother, who was advising him about marriage and responsibilities. Without responding, he glanced at Asmaira, who sat beside Fariya, holding tightly to her dress, making every effort not to tremble and looking at the ground as if it was something interesting.

She could become an actress, looking as if she was scared of me. I would have believed her for once if I didn't know her true color, he mocked.

“I understand what you are telling me, Ma, and I would try not to disappoint you.”

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