Mafia Indebted (Dark Romance)

Chapter 13

it was dark in his office—and that was what he liked—the darkness.

It became of him.

He found it soothing.

It held nothing. Just silence.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back into his leather recliner. Immediately, the face of his beloved flashed behind his closed lids and a smile formed on his lips.

He had won. In the morning, she will be his officially. In very sense of the word and he could hardly wait.

He never thought he would ever get married one day—he always thought he would live out his life with a single purpose—pleasure.

He never undertood why there were some feelings he never felt like those around him—he didn't feel remorse, guilt, happiness, empathy or any other sort of feeling that could emotionally link him to others.

All he felt was pleasure—in pain, gore and bloodshed.

But it wasn't something to make him feel complete. Nothing was. And he wanted to feel that way. He wanted to feel complete.

And he thought if marrying Anissa could make I'm feel that way then he would marry her. He wanted her for so long yet he didn't understand why. Somehow, having her with him gave him a sense of peace. And he liked that.

I'm about to find out. Just a few more hours. He thought with satisfaction.

The vibrating buzz of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts. With closed eyes, he put the phone of his ear. "What?" he barked.

"Boss, our Hyderabad warehouse was just raided by the Rangers." One of his subordinates, Asim, reported. Opening his eyes, Shehryaar sat upright in his chair.

"Some of our men were caught. The supplies were confiscated."

"Any trail left?" his voice was hard and cold as ice.

"No boss. It was absolutely clean."

"Good. Make sure to clear the other warehouses in the vicinity. The Rangers might've gotten to this one but make sure that they don't get to the Tharparker warehouse." He ordered.

"Roger that."

Shehryaar hung up and threw his phone casually on the hard desk. He was feeling agigated now.

The Ghulari family was a powerful feudal family that rule over the Sikhai region—the central part of Pakistan that comprised of the major four provinces; Punjab to the north east, Sindh to the south east, KPK to the north west and Balochistan to the south west. The Ghulari family held the political power in the region and had total control over the people and the vast resources that came with it. The only problem was that the family was corrupt due to which the Sikhai region, though heavily endowed with natural resources, was underdeveloped and suffering from poverty.

The Army and local militia were trying their best to put the family to ruin and bring some control of the government to the region—it was already at the brink of civil war.

But that wasn't Shehryaar's problem. His main assets were based in Karachi, Dubai and Shanghai.

He was glad that he had cleared out of the Sindh part of the Sikhai region. But his lust for power was immense. He still held power in that region because his activities and properties were there. He wasn't worries about Hyderabad since everything was clear there but his business was basically centered on the borders of the Sikhai region.

The local militia was raiding every sector throughout the province to dig up dirt against him and his family. He didn't care about his family though but he didn't care for his own business.

His dealings with the underworld must never surface otherwise there would be hell to pay.

But this was a game after all and he loved a good game. A game that fueled his bloodlust and thirst for Supremacy.

If it involved getting richer, gaining more power and control then he was willing to be a part of such a game.

And the game was about to get sweeter. He was the mafia king who stood alone till now. But he will have his queen by his side from now on.

And a King is most powerful when he has his Queen by his side.

*********

Sunday came in the blink of an eye.

That morning, Anissa had removed the worn out bandages from her left arm to inspect the bullet wound. It was scabbing but healing.

When she went for the brand wound under her collarbone, she hesitated.

With shaking hands, she carefully peeled off the gauze covering the wound. Her eyes started to fill with tears when she saw it

Shehryaar's 

Scabbed thinly and now brown in color, it stood out, staring directly at her from her pale white skin.

She felt defiled in the most vicious of ways—she felt as if she was stripped of her rights and liberties and made a thing.

I won't ever forgive him for this. How dare he? She was seething mad now. She despised him more than ever now.

And after today, it'll be in writing—it'll be so true. And she won't be able to deny it.

Her heart was trembling; she had no idea what to expect from her future husband. All that came to her mind were the cruelties and brutalities that she was being forced to subject herself to. If he could brand her and hit her, only God knew what else he planned to do with her with she disobeyed him again.

And what was worse, he was a complete stranger to him. Why he wanted to marry her was beyond her.

The only thought that gave her comfort was that her parents were content with it and as long as she was told what to do and the day went smoothly, she knew that he wouldn't hurt her family.

By becoming his wife, she won't be able to defy him unless he went overboard with her.

After a long warm shower, she carefully she covered her wounds with fresh dressing and started to get ready for the day.

Around 9am, Zameer was instructed to escort Anissa to the city's best beauty experts. They worked their magic—waxing, polishing and dusting Anissa's entire body to perfection.

Shehryaar had sent her red wedding dress that was embroidered with gold and rust that would compliment her fair skin. The red lehnga did well to hide her bandaged injuries but the tight fitting of the fabric made her feel uncomfortable at the sites of the wounds.

She learned that Shehryaar had specifically ordered the stylists to let her hair hang loosely. A heavy solid gold set adorned with diamonds and rubies were set against the collar of the necklace. The long broad earrings were the same. Anissa felt suffocated with the heavy jewels around her neck and hanging from her ears that it almost hurt.

Everything was of the finest quality; it must've cost tens of thousands of rupees. Everything that she wore was so expensive that Anissa felt afraid to even touch it. She was a simple girl—she had never worn anything so luxurious and flashy before.

She was even afraid to look at herself in mirror when the stylists continued doing her hair and the makeup artists pounded layer after layer of makeup—even her face felt heavy from the weight of it.

At around noon, they were done and kept on complimenting her on her beauty. But they all fell on deaf ears—Anissa didn't care how she looked; it was pathetic really. How much time, energy and money were being wasted on her and just so she could please a man.

She found it highly repugnant.

However, when she faced herself in the mirror, her breath got hitched in her throat—in the mirror, a goddess stared back at her with wide eyes; her skin shone like porcelain, smooth and creamy. Her cheek bones were accentuated by the contouring and redefined. Her pale cheeks were tainted a dusty pink, her lips colored with a red as deep as blood. Her hazel eyes stood out amidst the creamy complexion of her skin and the soft rusty gold and brown shimmer makeup accolade with her eyes. Her glossy brown hair was set to thick curly locks and rested upon her right shoulder. A heavy hair ornament that was set upon the crown of her head rested against her forehead. She looked down to her perfectly manicured and red ainted nails. Her fingers were wrapped around thick, delicately designed rings. Her wrists wore heavy gold bangles—red and rust, matching the theme of her outfit.

When the stylist brought a nose ring, Anissa flinched. Her nose bore no piercing for the nose pin but she felt sad—a nose ring was worn by virgin brides and she felt she didn't deserve to wear one since she wasn't a virgin. She was glad that her nose didn't have a piercing but the stylist still put it on her nose because it had magnetic ends and became gracefully set against her right nostril.

Anissa immediately tore it away.

"But ma'am, you have to wear this." The stylist argued. Anissa glared at her. "No!" she deadpanned.

"But we were specifically ordered for you wear it. I realize that you won't feel comfortable with it since you don't have a piercing for it and the magnets adhere strongly, but you'll just have to bear with it." She cajoled softly.

But Anissa wasn't having it. She felt insulted. Her wounded pride and womanhood wouldn't stand for it.

Anissa began to fume with rage—what is this? Is he trying to mock me? Taunting me that I'm not his virgin bride? Not the pure and innocent wife that he wanted? Well, he's the one forcing me to marry him. He's just going to have to be the one to bear with it. She thought heatedly.

"No, I don't want to wear it so just understand." She spat bitterly. She understood that the poor woman was just trying to do her job but Anissa didn't want to care about it.

Already she was being coerced into this marriage. She didn't have the strength to put up with every one of Shehryaar's whims.

The stylist nodded and put away the nose ring. Carefully, the hair stylist laid the heavily designed and embroidered veil on her head, thus completing her look. Ramsha and Anissa's mother came to pick her up for the reception and soon enough, they were being driven to the Golden Hall, Islamabad's elite marriage hall for the rich and famous.

Anissa didn't understand the gist of it. There were only a few people attending the wedding from her side of the family. Maybe he has a big family and all of them are attending. Why else would he set this huge and posh place for our wedding? She thought pensively.

Her heart jolted at the thought. Our wedding. My wedding! Oh my God!

A cold shiver ran down her spine. She began to hyperventilate.

Oh my God! I'm getting married. I can't believe this! I'm about to lose my freedom. She wanted to cry and without realizing, tears began to fall from her eyes. Her heart was wrenching inside her chest.

Oh God, please make the way clear for me. Please don't let that man hurt me or my family.

She wanted to shout out to the world that she was being forced against her will. That she didn't like the man who was about to be her husband, one little bit. What she feared the most was his brutal, conscience-less persona. For all she knew, he could be murdered. He wasn't a leader of an infamous Mafia that was feared by all of South Asia for nothing.

How was she suppose to deal with that? Live the rest of her life with a man who held no guilt for hurting others—his hands tainted with the blood, lives and trusts of other? Who held no moral regard and did whatever he pleased.

"What's wrong Ainnie?" she was pulled out of her reveries by her mother's voice.

Quickly and carefully, she wiped the tears away and gave her mother a forced weak smile. "I'm just going to miss you so much Ammi. I can't believe my time to leave your home is so close." She muttered.

Her mother smiled and she too began to tear up. "I know bachay. I can't believe it too." She uttered in a sob filled voice and pulled Anissa into her arms.

"But I'm so happy that I'm giving you away. I'm so proud of you. You've landed yourself a great husband. Me and your father are so happy that we had the honor of marrying you off to a good man." She told, her tone laced with joy.

Good man? She resisted the urge to scoff at that. If only you knew what kind of a man he truly is ammi, then you would've thought differently. She wanted to share her thoughts with her mother but Shehryaar's threat filled glare emerged in her mind and she kept her mouth shut.

"If you get married in the right age with a good man then that is the most satisfying thing for us parents. All we ever want is for our children to be happy and settle down. I know that Shehryaar will take good care of you. I know he wants you very much and for me, that is very pleasing and satisfying. After all, my daughter deserves the best and Shehryaar is the best." She crooned.

She saw her mother's eyes flash with happiness and glimmer with delight. She was truly happy that her daughter was getting married. Anissa felt guilty. How could she ever think about taking that happiness away from her mother? Her parents had seen very little happiness in their lives and if her getting marrying to a man who would care and provide for their daughter made them happy and satisfied, then she will really try—she will try to make her marriage a real one and work it.

Even if Shehryaar was a bad man, leader of the country's most vicious and notorious mafia, then there wasn't anything in the world that couldn't be changed. And Shehryaar was no exception.

No, I'm going to change him. Suddenly, a new resolve began to form. She was hopeful. He's human, he's bound to have a soul. There must be a reason why God is making me his partner. I'm not sure but if his problem isn't something systemic, then it can be treated. I won't give up. There is always a bright side to every situation.

Putting his misbehavior, mistreatment and threats in the back of mind, she decided to forgive him for it.

It's better to forgive and forget. If I just cling to what he did, I won't be able to encourage myself to try to make this marriage work. She motivated herself.

And when she did, her heart felt light. She was content now. Although there were millions of doubts in her mind but she fought against them and made her decision resolutely. Shehryaar still terrified her but she'll just have to understand him better from now on and she wouldn't let her fear stop her from doing just that.

Now, I need to put up a happy façade. It's my wedding day after all. With that, she relaxed and willed her mind to only concentrate on her present.

When they stepped in the hall, it was empty. Her side of the family that basically consisted of her parents, Haris, Ramsha and their parents and her biological parents and brothers were present.

Anissa was led to the stage, her large lehnga training behind her. When she was seated, her father came to her and gently patted her head.

"My lovely daughter, I'm so proud of you." He muttered to her, his voice gruff and eyes glistening with unshed tears. Anissa smiled a little smile and side hugged her father. She saw the same happiness in her father's eyes and her resolute grew towards positivity.

Her biological parents also met with her and their attitude was aloof and uninterested as always.

When the baraat arrived, everyone from Anissa's side of the family stood with silent anticipation.

Zameer came forward from the door as he wheeled Shehryaar's mother in the hall. Shehryaar entered with them; he was dressed in a lavish black Sherwaani that had light gold and silver embroidery at the middle, his dark kul'a matching his dress. He looked dashing. His jaw was clean shaven. He looked impossibly sexy in all black. Her shoulders were squared and he walked with grace. His entire being radiated authority and power.

Anissa kept her gaze down. Even when he was seated beside her, she didn't dare to look at him—afraid that her resolve might break.

When Shehryaar saw her, he felt his world stop—truly, Anissa was the most breathtakingly stunning woman he had ever seen. And she was about to be his wife.

He felt his lions set on fire and the need to get her to his bed grew harder. He wanted this whole event to be done with so that he could finally claim what was his for the longest of time.

Anissa felt his heated gray gaze on her face and he cheeks became hot with crimson. Slowly, she lifted her head and mustered the courage to look at the man who was going to be her husband in a few moments.

She drew a sharp breath—he was indeed the most handsome man she had ever seen and he was going to be her husband—her other half. Her life partner. He looked incredibly sexy in the dark Sherwaani.

They eyes immediately connected—grey against hazel.

Shehryaar clenched his jaw tightly, his eyes displaying his lust and desire towards her but Anissa clenched her hands into fists, her eyes portraying her fear and nervousness towards him.

There heart beat was fast—racing against time. Their faces were blank but their eyes showed what they were feeling.

Lost in their eyes, they tried to understand one another.

It was as if in that moment, it was just the two of them; feeling connected just by their gaze. It was feeling unlike anything they both had ever felt before.

The only thing that disturbed them out of their little world was the sound of the Maulvi clearing his throat.

Blushing, Anissa looked away while Shehryaar clicked his tongue in annoyance.

The Maulvi proceeded to say the rights and liberties, starting with groom who immediately agreed.

"Do you, Shehryaar Ghulari, in your full senses and good judgment, accept Anissa Ghalib as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"Qubool hai."

It was repeated two more times and Shehryaar agreed wholeheartedly and signed his name on the marriage certificate.

When the Maulvi turned to face Anissa, her heart began to drum in her chest and her mind began to have second thoughts.

Oh Allah, my God, please, let my decision be right in my favor. With her silent prayer, she listened to her rights and liberties.

"Do you, Anissa Ghalib, in your full senses and without coercion, accept Shehryaar Ghulari as your lawfully wedded husband?"

She hesitated. Her throat felt dry. The rejection was at the tip of her tongue. She felt like running away from this place and crawl up in a hole and hide herself.

Swallowing, she clenched her fists tighter until she felt Shehryaar's warm hand gently touch hers. She looked up and saw his gleaming grey eyes—they looked at her with warning. She understood. Turning back to the priest, she breathed in deeply.

"Qubool hai." She muttered lowly. Taking the pen from Shehryaar's fingers, she signed her name.

It's done. Now, I just hope that I don't regret this. she thought hopefully.

Everyone raised their hands in supplication; praying for a successful and fruitful marriage of the young couple.

The witnesses and family began to hug each other and congratulate each other.

Shehryaar leaned closer until his lips were close to Anissa's ear. "You're finally mine now, forever." He whispered.

Anissa felt shivers down at her spine and tried to hold back her tears.

**********

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Lehnga= wedding dress

Sherwaani= formal traditiona dress for males

Maulvi= priest

Kul'a= turban

bachay= child

Baraat= groom's side of the family

Qubool hai= I do

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