Chapter 15: Character shift
The name flashing on the screen wasn't just a contact; it was a warning. "Father."
Heer's hand stayed frozen in mid-air, trembling. The "tough rock" had turned to ice. Asia pulled the car over to the curb, her face losing its playful smirk. She knew what this call meant.
"Answer it," Asia whispered.
Heer took a shaky breath and swiped the screen. She didn't say hello; she just waited, the phone pressed hard against her ear as if she were bracing for an impact.
"Heer," her father's voice came through, sounding more like a boardroom announcement than a greeting. "I'm calling to tell you that the Board is going to make their final decision in three days."
Heer's eyes widened, reflecting the passing streetlights. "But I know you can change that decision, Mr. Chairman."
"I would love to," her father replied, his tone dripping with a calculated challenge. "If you bring your partner home... then maybe I can think about it."
A heavy silence filled the car.
"Fine, Father," Heer said, her voice regaining that "tough rock" edge. "We will come tomorrow evening. Be ready to be amazed."
A low, dry chuckle came from the speaker. "Hey, that's my little girl. I'm ready. Let's see how much potential you have to amaze me."
"I'm driving, Father. I'll talk to you later." Heer tapped the screen, ending the call before he could say another word. She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.
"Three days," Heer whispered, the weight of the deadline pressing down on her.
Asia leaned forward from the driver's seat. "Heer, what are you going to do now? Your father isn't playing games."
Heer's gaze sharpened as she watched the city lights blur past. "I'm going to handle it. My way."
The Next Day
Aslam sat at his desk, the blue light of his laptop reflecting in his eyes as he typed furiously. He was deep into his own world until the sharp buzz of the intercom shattered his focus. He picked up the receiver but didn't say a word. He already knew who it was.
"My office. Now," Heer's voice commanded.
Aslam stood before Heer's office door, taking a long, steadying breath to settle his racing heart. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Ma'am? Do you have any work for me?"
"Sit, Aslam," Heer said, not looking up from her desk.
Aslam took the chair opposite her. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with the tension of the night before.
"Aslam, do you remember when I helped you?" Heer asked, finally meeting his eyes. "When no one else would step up, I was there. You gave me your word. You told me you would do anything."
Aslam looked down, a shadow of shame crossing his face. He knew she was right.
"Now I need you, and your hesitation is making me mad. You have two options," Heer continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous level. "First, you help me take back what belongs to me. Second, you leave this company and run far away—so far that I can't reach you. But believe me, Aslam, there is no place on this earth where I can't find you. I hope you understand that. Now, tell me... what will you do?"
Aslam remained silent for a moment. Then, he looked up. The shame was gone, replaced by a strange, new spark in his eyes.
"I know you helped me when I needed it most," Aslam said softly. "And I've been trying to help you, too. But my emotions, my heart... they don't always give me permission to think clearly about you. I don't know why. But I promise you this: I will fight for you, starting today. Now, you don't need to tell me anymore. But I should warn you, Sweetie... this might get a little awkward for you."
Heer froze. "Sweetie?"
Aslam's lips curved into a confident, flirty smirk—a side of him she had never seen. "See, when I actually start to flirt with someone, they usually lose all control."
Heer felt a sudden heat rush to her face. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, and for a second, the "tough rock" was on the verge of melting. Panicked, she grabbed a thick folder from her desk and shoved it toward him to hide her reaction.
"This is all the information about me," she snapped, her voice slightly higher than usual. "If anyone from my family asks questions, you answer according to this. We meet them tonight for dinner. No more photos or proposal videos; we will do that tomorrow. Now... go!"
Aslam took the file and started walking toward the door. He reached the handle when Heer's voice stopped him.
"Wait, Aslam."
He looked back.
"You haven't asked me yet, even once... who I actually am. Or where I got those three million," she said, her eyes searching his. "Why?"
Aslam didn't hesitate. "Because I trust you."
He stepped out and closed the door, leaving the room silent. Heer sat frozen in her chair, her mind racing. What is wrong with you? she screamed at herself internally. What were you thinking when he said that? 'They lose control?' Idiot! Idiot! You fool!
She covered her face with her hands, trying to cool her burning cheeks. But a small, traitorous thought slipped through: He actually looked... good... like that. Aah, forget it!
Back at his desk, Aslam opened the thick folder Heer had shoved into his hands. He needed to be perfect for the dinner, and that meant memorizing her life. He flipped through the first few pages. Favorite fruit: Grapes. Favorite animal: Black Panther. Preferred coffee: Black, no sugar. He muttered the facts under his breath, trying to burn them into his memory.
"Okay, okay... simple enough," he whispered to the empty office. "She's a 'tough rock' who likes bitter coffee and panthers. Makes sense."
He turned the page to the section titled Family Hierarchy. At the top of the page was a high-resolution family portrait taken at a gala. Aslam's eyes drifted to the man standing at the center.
In a split second, the air left Aslam's lungs. His hands began to tremble so violently that the paper rattled in his grip. The office around him seemed to vanish, replaced by a cold, dark memory he had tried to bury years ago. His heart hammered against his ribs, not with love this time, but with pure, unadulterated shock.
"No..." Aslam breathed, his voice a ghost of a sound. "It can't be."
He stared at the face of the man who held Heer's future in his hands—the man he was supposed to face at dinner tonight. His mind raced back to a time before the Queens company, before the writing, to a moment that had defined his past.
"Your father..." Aslam's eyes widened until they hurt. "Your father is HIM?"
The file slipped from his nerveless fingers, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. Aslam sank back into his chair, his face losing every drop of color. He wasn't just walking into a lion's den tonight. He was walking into his own nightmare.
[End of Chapter 15]