Chapter 10: Ghost in a File
"Tell me what you want," Heer said, her voice cutting through the salty beach air.
Aslam didn't look up from the soil. His voice was a broken thread. "My father is in the hospital. I need three million for his surgery. I need it now."
Heer leaned down, her expensive perfume clashing with the scent of the sea. "Have you read the contract?"
"No!" Aslam snapped, finally looking at her. His eyes were red, filled with a mix of shame and hope. "And I don't care about the contract. Help me, please. I know you're not just an ordinary team manager. You have the power. I need it... please."
Heer's expression didn't soften, but her hand moved toward her phone. "What is the account number?"
Minutes later, Aslam stood by the road at the edge of the beach, his heart hammering against his ribs. A sleek car pulled up beside him, the engine a low, predatory hum. The window rolled down.
"Sit," Heer ordered.
Aslam climbed in, the leather interior feeling like a different planet. As she pulled onto the road, Aslam opened his mouth to ask if the transfer went through, but his phone cut him off. It was Asif.
"Yes, Asif? Update me!"
"Aslam Bhai!" Asif's voice was breathless over the speaker. "The doctors are heading in. They've started the surgery. One of them told me not to worry; he's going to be okay. I'll call you the second it's over."
"Okay," Aslam breathed, leaning back into the seat. The tension in his shoulders snapped.
Heer glanced at him and reached for a bottle of water, offering it to him. "You need this."
"What did he say?" she asked quietly as the car sped through the city.
"He said they started," Aslam replied, his hands shaking as he took the water. "He'll inform me when it's over."
"Don't worry," Heer said, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. For a second, her voice sounded almost human. "Everything is going to be fine. Believe me."
Aslam looked at her, searching for the "Tigress" he knew, but all he could manage was a low, "Hmm."
When they reached Aslam's building, the silence between them was heavy. He stepped out onto the pavement, the weight of the day finally catching up to him.
"Thank you," Aslam said, looking at her through the window. "Thank you very much for the help."
Heer didn't smile. She didn't even look at him. "I don't need your 'thank you,' Aslam," she said coldly. "I need you."
Before he could respond, she shifted into gear and drove straight away, leaving him standing in the shadows of his own apartment.
Aslam was exhausted, his body screaming for sleep, but he sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his phone like a lifeline. He waited. One hour. Two. Finally, it rang.
"Asif Bhai! Everything is fine now. Abbu is out of danger!"
"Really?" Aslam's voice cracked. "Can I talk to him?"
"No, the surgery just finished. He needs rest. I'll call you when he wakes up. Wait—mom wants to speak."
"Aslam? Beta?" His mother's voice was thick with tears. "Your father is out of danger. Don't worry, my boy."
Aslam felt the first sob break through. "I am so sorry I'm not there with you right now," he whispered, the tears falling freely now. "I'm not a good son, Maa."
"Beta," she said firmly, her voice echoing with a mother's wisdom. "If you were here, your father wouldn't have survived. I know how you feel, but don't worry. You did what had to be done."
As the call ended, Aslam let out a breath he felt he had been holding for years. For the first time in weeks, his father was safe. He collapsed onto his bed, finally falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But the peace wouldn't last. The contract was still waiting.
Aslam's eyes snapped open. 9:30 AM.
"No!" he gasped, lunging out of bed. He had overslept the "7:00 AM" warning. He scrambled into his suit, his fingers fumbling with his buttons. An hour later, he was sprinting through the office gates, lunging for the elevator just as the doors began to hiss shut.
He thrust his hand between the sliding metal panels. They jolted back open.
Aslam stepped in, breathing hard, only to freeze. There was already someone inside. Her face was buried in her phone, the glow of the screen reflecting in her cold, sharp eyes.
It was Heer.
Aslam immediately spun around, his heart hammering against his ribs. He tried to step back out, but her voice stopped him cold.
"Move quickly," she said, not even looking up from her device. "We are already late."
Aslam slowly turned back and stepped into the small, confined space. The silence in the elevator was suffocating—a "killing silence" that made his heart tick like a time bomb.
"Is your father okay now?" she asked suddenly.
Aslam shifted uncomfortably, staring at the floor. "Yes... he is. I just received a message from Asif. They talked to him. He's alright now. And... thank you. Once again."
"I was wondering if you had fled the country to escape me," she said, finally lowering her phone to look at him. "But you're here, I see."
Aslam squared his shoulders. "I am a man of my words."
"So, 'Man of Words,'" she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Have you read my words? The ones I sent you?"
Aslam blinked. "What?"
"The contract," she clarified.
"No, not yet," Aslam stammered. "I was going to read it now—"
She opened her mouth to speak, but the elevator let out a sharp Ting! The doors slid open.
Aslam felt a wave of relief wash over him—he had been saved by the bell. He practically ran toward his cabin, desperate for the safety of his desk.
As Heer stepped onto the floor, the entire office turned into a statue gallery. Jack's eyes went wide with pure terror. Ashley was so startled that her files slipped from her hands, scattering across the floor. Only Ben seemed thrilled, a huge grin on his face.
"Ma'am! Good to see you—" Ben started.
"Shut up," she snapped, not even breaking her stride.
Suddenly, her eyes locked onto Aslam. He was trying to hide behind his desk, but the glass walls of his cabin offered no protection. She looked at him with a slow, predatory smile—the look of a Tigress who had finally pinned her target.
She didn't stop. She continued toward her office, the sound of her heels echoing like a warning through the silent department.
A few hours later, the tension in the office had settled into a warm buzz. Jack, Ashley, and the rest of the crew were huddled around Jack's desk.
"Thank God your father is out of danger, man," Jack said, his voice genuinely warm as he slapped a hand on Aslam's shoulder. "I can only imagine what you went through."
Suddenly, Ben pushed his way through the group, looking confused. "Aslam! Tell me, how is your father now?"
The entire group went silent, staring at Ben as if he were a ghost. Jack broke the silence first. "The movie is over, Ben, and now you're asking who the hero was?"
The office erupted in laughter. Even Aslam managed a small, genuine smile. "He's fine now, Ben. Thank you for asking."
But the laughter was cut short by a sharp, electronic chirp. Jack's intercom was buzzing. Since everyone was standing by his desk, he leaned over and hit the button. "Yes?"
"Send Aslam to my office. Now," Heer's voice crackled through the speaker, cold and unmistakable.
Jack stood up so fast he nearly tipped his chair, instinctively saluting the intercom. "Yes! Yes, Ma'am!"
He clicked the line dead and looked at Aslam with pity. "Aslam... go to hell."
Aslam blinked. "Hmm?"
"I mean... go to the manager's office," Jack corrected, though his face said they were the same thing.
Aslam knew the time had come. He walked toward the large, mahogany doors, his feet feeling like lead. Inside, the office was silent, the air-conditioning humming like a low warning.
Heer was already there, sitting behind her massive desk. She didn't say a word. She simply picked up a slim, leather-bound file and slid it across the table toward him.
"Read it," she commanded. "It's the contract."
Aslam sat on the very edge of the seat, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled the file toward him. He flipped open the first page. His eyes scanned the lines, moving faster and faster as the blood drained from his face.
Suddenly, Aslam lunged to his feet. He stared at the pages in his hand, his face pale, looking as if he were staring at a ghost.
Heer leaned back, her fingers laced together, watching his terror with the calm satisfaction of a predator.
"Is there a problem, Aslam?" she asked softly. "Or did you think my three million was a gift?"
[End of Chapter 10]