Chapter 8: No More Secrets
Heer stared at the city skyline from her secret penthouse, the silence of the room vibrating with her rage. She abruptly ended the call with the Fixer, the phone clicking sharply against the marble counter. Every second felt like a ticking bomb.
She didn't wait. She grabbed her keys and headed to the parking lot. Moments later, her high-performance engine roared to life. She drove with a dangerous edge, weaving through the late-night traffic at speeds that would have terrified anyone else on the road. Her knuckles were white against the steering wheel, the blurred lights of the city nothing but a streak of neon against her fury.
She reached the outskirts of the city, where the skyscrapers gave way to sprawling estates. She pulled up to a massive set of iron gates adorned with a polished gold plate: QUEEN'S GROUP. The head guard stepped forward, but the moment he recognized the woman behind the wheel, his posture straightened into a rigid salute.
"Ma'am! Welcome home," he said, his voice echoing with deep respect. He turned to the security booth and barked, "Open the gates! Now!"
The heavy irons swung open, and Heer floored the accelerator. Her tires screeched on the gravel driveway as she approached the main mansion.
Inside, the atmosphere was a sharp contrast to the chaos in Heer's heart. A formal dinner was underway. The dining hall was lit by a crystal chandelier that cast a sharp, cold light over the attendees. This wasn't a family gathering; it was a board meeting disguised with silver forks and expensive wine.
At the head of the table sat Jamshed Rahmani, the CEO of Queen's Group—a man who commanded silence simply by breathing. To his right sat Arslan, looking smug in a tailored suit, laughing softly at a comment whispered by a board member.
Heer entered the hall like a storm. The rhythmic strike of her heels on the marble sounded like a series of gunshots, and the laughter at the table died instantly.
"You're late for dinner, Heer," Jamshed said, not even looking up as he cut a piece of steak with surgical precision.
"I wasn't aware we were celebrating my replacement, Dad," Heer replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she shot a glance at Arslan.
Arslan leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass. "Replacement? Don't be so dramatic, cousin. We're just discussing the Singapore expansion—something a 'department head' wouldn't need to worry about."
Heer's eyes flashed with fire, but before she could retort, a gentle voice rose from the other side of the table. "Heer, please. Sit down. You look exhausted."
Heer looked over at Muskan, her twin sister. Despite sharing the exact same face, Muskan seemed like a different species. Dressed in soft silk, her expression was filled with a worrying kind of empathy. Muskan was the daughter who stayed at home, the one who organized charities and kept their father's tea warm.
"I don't have an appetite for this, Muskan," Heer said, her voice softening only for her sister.
"Sit," Jamshed commanded. It wasn't an invitation.
Heer pulled out a chair, the screech of wood against marble making Arslan flinch.
"We were just discussing the Gala," Jamshed continued, finally looking at Heer. "The board is anxious. They want to see the future of Queen's Group. Arslan has already chosen a partner from the Halloway family—a strategic move. And you, Heer? Are you still planning to show up with a stack of quarterly reports as your date?"
A low chuckle rippled around the table. Heer felt the trap closing. This was the "luxury" she was born into—a world where love was a transaction and her sister was the only person who didn't want to see her fail.
"I have my partner," Heer lied, her voice steady and cold. "And unlike Arslan's choice, mine isn't for sale."
Arslan smirked. "Oh? Then where is he? Why is he hidden away while you're out here playing office girl?"
Heer didn't answer. She stood up, her plate untouched. "You'll meet him when I'm ready. Not a second before."
She turned and walked out, ignoring her father's narrowed eyes and Muskan's concerned gaze. She needed a miracle now. She needed Aslam to break.
The dining hall fell into a suffocating stillness the moment Heer's silhouette disappeared. Jamshed leaned back, a small, dark smirk playing on his lips. "At least one of my daughters took after me," he remarked, almost to himself.
Muskan turned her head sharply, her eyes burning with uncharacteristic anger as she glared at her father.
"What?" Jamshed shrugged. "I am just joking. Eat your dinner, Muskan."
But Muskan didn't eat. She stood up abruptly and followed Heer out into the cold night air. Up on the rooftop terrace, the wind was biting. Heer stood by the railing, the city lights reflecting in her dark eyes. She pulled a cigarette from a silver case and flicked a lighter, the small flame dancing in the wind. Just as she brought it to her lips, a hand reached out.
Muskan snatched the cigarette from Heer's mouth and crushed it under her heel without blinking.
"Hey! What's your problem, Sis?" Heer snapped, her voice low and dangerous.
"Harming yourself won't change Father's mind," Muskan said, her voice steady despite the wind. "If you want him to change his decision, then give him the results he wants."
Heer turned fully, her coat fluttering. "What do you mean? You think I'm not capable of holding that power? You think Arslan is better?"
"You are capable," Muskan replied softly. "But you know how Father is. He says everyone needs a partner to make them stronger. He doesn't see your strength because you're standing alone."
Heer scoffed, looking back at the skyline. "First of all, I don't need someone to support me. And second..." She paused, the image of Aslam's desperate face flashing in her mind. "I have someone special. If that's what you mean."
Muskan tilted her head, a playful, disbelieving smile breaking across her face. "Really?"
Heer felt her heart skip a beat. "Ye... yes. What? Do you think I'm lying to you?"
"No," Muskan whispered, her smile widening. "Absolutely no."
Before Heer could pull back her icy exterior, Muskan stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. "It's so good to see you like this, Sis. Everything will be fine now."
Heer froze. The warmth of her sister's hug felt like a physical weight. For a second, her eyes stung and a strange, heavy feeling rose in her throat. She felt like she was going to cry—a sensation she hadn't allowed herself in years.
She quickly pulled away, blinking back the moisture. "Okay, okay... don't be so emotional," she muttered, adjusting her collar. "Come, let's go inside. It's freezing out here."
When they returned downstairs, the dinner had concluded. Jamshed was sitting in the lounge, deep in conversation with Arslan. When he saw them, he smiled broadly. "Here come my two princesses."
"Don't call us that, Dad," Heer said. "We aren't kids anymore."
Muskan walked over and hugged Jamshed from behind. "What does my princess want?" Jamshed asked.
"Nothing, Dad. Just... Heer wants to talk to you."
Heer stepped forward. "Dad, can we talk alone?"
"We are all family members here," Jamshed said, glancing at Arslan. Heer's eyes turned cold. Jamshed sighed. "Okay, okay. Kids, go do your work."
Arslan stood up, smoothing his jacket. "Okay, Uncle. I am going now. And Heer? Good to see you."
"But I am not," Heer muttered. Jamshed and Muskan both shot her a sharp, angry look as Arslan turned to leave. Once the door clicked shut, Heer looked at them. "What?" she asked, as if she had done nothing wrong.
"You are very rude, Heer," Muskan said, her voice disappointed.
"I'm honest, Muskan. There's a difference," Heer countered, before turning her full attention back to her father. "Dad, why are you making him the CEO?" Heer demanded.
"I am not making him anything," Jamshed replied calmly. "The Board of Directors wants him because they see a capable man. It is not final."
"Then why was it already announced on the news?" Heer countered, her eyes narrowing.
Jamshed leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Because they want to see if there is anyone out there more capable than Arslan. It's a test, Heer."
"Oh," Heer whispered, the weight of the challenge settling in her chest.
"If you can do something better, I will support you," Jamshed continued, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "But first, you must fix a meeting between me and this future husband of yours. I want to know who this 'hunter' is. Did he actually hunt my tigress, or did he simply get hunted by her?"
Jamshed let out a rare, booming laugh, and Muskan joined in, her eyes twinkling. Heer forced a tight, awkward smile, her mind racing.
"So," Jamshed asked, regaining his composure. "When are we meeting him?"
"Soon," Heer said, her voice like ice. "Very soon."
Muskan smiled and took Heer's hand. "Okay, now we are going to sleep, Dad. We have a lot to talk about anyway." As they walked toward the stairs, Muskan whispered playfully, "So, tell me, Heer... how is your future husband? Is he handsome? Is he kind?"
Heer felt a pang of guilt, but her mask didn't slip. "When you meet him, you will know everything about him."
From the lounge, Jamshed watched his daughters walk away. A rare, soft look crossed his face. "My two princesses... God bless them," he murmured before turning off the lights.
The silence of the massive estate swallowed the night. Heer reached her bedroom, her exhaustion finally catching up to her. It was 12:30 AM. She didn't bother with a night routine; she simply jumped onto her bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
The hours bled into each other as she slept through the morning. By the time she finally stirred and opened her eyes, it was 3:00 PM the next day. She sat up, disoriented, and reached for her phone. When she saw the screen, she was stunned.
16 missed calls from Aslam.
"I think these are the results the Fixer was talking about last night," she whispered to herself, a cold realization washing over her.
She moved quickly, getting refreshed and heading downstairs. Her father and Muskan were already seated for a late lunch.
"Heer, you're finally up! Join us," Muskan said, gesturing to an empty chair.
"Sorry, but I have to go now," Heer said, barely slowing down as she headed for the door. "I have some very important work to do."
"Okay, but take care!" Muskan called out after her. "And drive slowly!"
But Heer was already gone. She climbed into her car and checked Aslam's location on her "ghost" phone. The blue dot was stationary at the edge of the coast. She floored the accelerator, weaving through the afternoon sun as she headed directly for the beach.
She stepped onto the cooling sand and walked toward the hunched figure sitting directly on the beach soil. Aslam looked up, his face a mask of grief and desperation. The shadow of a woman loomed over him, and for a second, the world went silent.
"I am ready," he said, his voice cracked and hollow. "I'll marry you. I'll sign the contract. But you have to do something for me too."
[End of Chapter 8]