25.

Anam stood in the kitchen, her cheeks flushed as she stirred the chai on the stove. The rich aroma of cardamom and tea leaves filled the air, but her thoughts were far from the task at hand. She replayed the subtle moments with Feras earlier... his fleeting glance, the way he had unconsciously softened his tone when addressing her. A shy smile tugged at her lips, and she shook her head, chastising herself for reading too much into it.

The sound of footsteps broke her reverie. Seher entered the kitchen, her sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. Noticing that Anam was alone, her lips curled into a smirk. "Well, well," Seher began, her tone dripping with disdain, "the ghar ki rani is playing the perfect wife now, isn't she?" (The queen of the house)

Anam glanced up, startled by Seher's tone. "Seher... kuch chahiye kya tumhe?" she asked hesitantly, trying to maintain her composure. (Seher... do you need anything?)

Seher leaned casually against the counter, her expression mocking. "Chahiye? Haan. Mera haq wapas chahiye," she said, her words laced with venom. (What do I need? I need my rights back)

Anam blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" Seher's voice rose as she stepped closer. "I mean that you stole my husband! Feras was supposed to be mine! But you... always so innocent, so perfect... came and snatched him away!"

Anam's eyes widened in shock, her grip tightening on the ladle. "Seher, you know that's not true," she said firmly. "Ahmed Taya made this decision because of your actions. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Seher's face twisted with rage, her jealousy boiling over. "How dare you talk to me like that!" she shouted, her hand flying out before Anam could react. The slap echoed in the silent kitchen, and Anam staggered back, clutching her burning cheek.

"Never disrespect me again," Seher hissed, her voice low and dangerous. She straightened her dupatta, cast one last hateful glare at Anam, and stormed out of the kitchen.

Anam stood frozen, her cheek stinging. The humiliation, the anger... it all welled up inside her. But she refused to let herself break. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a deep breath and steadied her shaking hands. With quiet determination, she poured the chai into the cups, her vision blurring as tears slid down her cheeks.

Grabbing her phone, she called Ayub. Her voice was strained but steady as she said, "Ayub, chai le jao. Elders ko serve kar do, please. I'm not feeling very well. I'm going to lie down." (Ayub, come in the kitchen and bring chai to the elders. I'm not feeling too well. so I'm going to lie down )

Ayub's concern was immediate. "Anam Api, sab theek hai na? Aap ki awaaz..." (Anam API, is everything okay? your voice seems...)

"I'm fine," Anam interrupted, forcing her voice to sound calm. "Bas thoda thak gayi hoon." (I'm fine, just a little tired.)

Ending the call, she placed the tray on the counter and quietly left the kitchen. Her steps were heavy as she made her way to Fers and her room. She clutched her dupatta tightly to her face, hiding the redness on her cheek, making sure no one was there.

Once inside the room, she looked around to check if Feras was there. He was not. She locked the door behind her and leaned against it, her shoulders trembling. Her tears finally fell, silent but fierce. Her dignity, her self-control... they had been bruised. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her tears away.

Anam glanced at the neatly arranged room, now hers and Feras'. The thought of him made her feel an odd mixture of longing and shame. What would he think if he saw her like this? She pushed the thought aside, determined not to let anyone see her pain.

Anam was wiping her tears hurriedly, trying to compose herself when she heard a faint sound of movement. She froze, her heart skiping a beat, and her tear-filled eyes darted toward the bathroom door just as it opened. Feras stepped out, his hair damp and disheveled, wearing his casual black kurta shalwar. The sharp contrast of his relaxed appearance and the intense expression on his face was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

He stopped mid-step, his sharp eyes instantly locking onto her tear-streaked face and the faint red mark on her cheek. The sight made something snap within him. His heart twisted painfully, an unfamiliar sensation of worry and anger flooding his chest.

"Anam?" he called softly, his voice laced with concern. His brows furrowed as he moved closer to her, the weight of his presence making the room feel smaller. "Tum ro rahi ho?" (Anam, Are you crying?)

Anam's mouth opened and closed, unable to form words. She clutched her dupatta tightly, her eyes wide with shock. She hadn't expected him to be here, let alone witness her in such a vulnerable state. "A-aap... yahan?" she stammered, trying to step back, her mind racing. (You... here?)

Feras, however, didn't answer her question. His gaze fell to her cheek, his jaw clenching as he saw the angry redness blooming there. The realization of what had happened only made the fire inside him grow. His face darkened, and his voice dropped into a low, dangerous tone. "Yeh kisne kiya hai?" (Who did this to you?)

Anam panicked. She shook her head quickly, trying to step away from his piercing gaze. "K-kuch nahi... bas aise hi—" (Nothing happened, I just—)

Feras cut her off sharply, his tone turning colder. "Anam," he said, his voice carrying a quiet but deadly edge. "Don't you dare lie to me."

Her breath hitched, and her resolve crumbled under his intensity. She looked away, unable to meet his burning gaze. "It's nothing, really," she tried again, her voice trembling.

"Kisne kiya hai yeh?" he demanded again, this time louder, his fury barely restrained. His eyes blazed with an emotion she couldn't quite place... protectiveness, perhaps? His fists clenched at his sides as he stepped closer, towering over her. (Who did it?)

Anam was trembling now, unsure of how to respond. She knew lying wouldn't work, but telling him the truth would only make things worse.

"Woh... Seher..." she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. (That... Seher...)

The name hit Feras like a bolt of lightning. His already tense posture stiffened further, his jaw tightening to the point it looked painful. "Seher," he repeated, his voice colder than she had ever heard it. The way he said the name sent a chill down her spine.

"Woh gusse mein thi," Anam quickly added, trying to soften the blow. "Mujhe laga tha ke... it's not worth—" (She was not in a good emotion state. I thought... well, it's just not worth—)

"It's not worth what, Anam?" he snapped, his fury bubling to the surface. His hand slammed onto the edge of the dresser beside her, making her jump. "Someone slapped you, and you think it's not worth mentioning?"

She flinched at his sudden movement but managed to gather some courage. "Aap itna gussa mat hoyein. Please. Yeh ghar ke mamlaat hain..." (Don't get so angry, please... It's just another household matter...)

"Ghar ke mamlaat hain?" he echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief. He took another step forward, his towering figure making her feel small. "Koi bhi iss ghar mein tumpe haath uthaye, aur tumhe lagta hai it's not worth mentioning?" (Household matter? Anyone can come and raise their hand at you, and you think it's not worth mentioning?)

Anam was speechless. She had never seen him this angry since the kidnapping incident, and while his tone terrified her, there was an odd comfort in knowing he cared.

He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment to regain control of his temper. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but no less firm. "This is the last time you hide something like this from me. Samjhi tum?" (Understood?)

Anam nodded silently, her heart pounding in her chest.

Feras straightened, his eyes still fixed on her red cheek. "Yahan ruko, tum" he ordered, before turning and heading out of the room with determined steps. (Stay here)

Anam blinked, her confusion mounting as she stood frozen in place. She could only guess what he was about to do... and none of her guesses brought her any comfort.

.....

Feras stormed into the living room, his footsteps loud and unralenting, drawing everyone's attention. The usual calm in his demeanor was replaced by a fury so intense it felt as though the air around him had turned electric. His father, Ahmed, looked up from his cup of chai, instantly sensing something was wrong.

"Feras, kya hua?" Ahmed asked, his voice steady but laced with curiosity and concern. (Feras, what happened?)

Feras didn't respond immediately. His dark eyes swept across the room, resting momentarily on Chacha Salman and Chachi, who both looked startled. Then, in a voice so low and menacing it made everyone sit up straight, "Seher kider hai?" (Where is Seher?)

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Chachi exchanged a nervous glance with her husband Salman. Ahmed narrowed his eyes, his sharp instincts already telling him something grave had happened. "Seher ko bulein, abhi" Feras repeated, his tone colder, more final. (Call Seher. Now.)

Chachi hesitated, but a single glare from Ahmed was enough to prompt her to act. She reluctantly called out for Seher. Moments later, Seher apeared, her face lined with annoyance at being summoned so abruptly. But the moment she laid eyes on Feras, her expression shifted.

Her blood ran cold.

The sight of his clenched fists, his tight jaw, and the storm in his eyes left her petrified. "Bhai?" she said weakly, her voice trembling. (Brother?)

Feras didn't give her a chance to say more. He crossed the room in long, purposeful strides, his towering figure imposing. In an instant, his hand lashed out, delivering a thunderous slap to Seher's face. The sound echoed like a whip crack, leaving everyone in the room gasping in shock.

Seher stumbled, the force of the blow sending her crashing to the floor. Tears sprang to her eyes as she clutched her cheek, the sting unbearable. "Feras!" Chachi screamed, leaping to her feet.

Anam, descending the stairs with hesitant steps, froze in place as she witnessed the horrifying scene. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in disbelief. She dropped the edge of her dupatta and ran toward him, shouting his name. "Feras! Yeh aap kya kar rahe hain?" (Feras, What are you doing?)

She reached him just as he took another step toward Seher, his fury unabated. Grabbing his arm, she tried to pull him back. "Feras, please! Stop it!" she pleaded, her voice trembling, her wide eyes filled with both fear and concern.

Feras didn't budge. His blazing eyes were fixed on Seher, who was now sobbing uncontrollably, sprawled on the floor. "Tumhari himmat kaise hui?" he roared, his deep voice shaking the walls. "Pehle tum is ghar ka naam mitti mein milati, aur ab tum Anam, meri biwi ,par haath uthati ho?"

(How dare you? First you taint our family's name, now you raise your at Anam... at my wife?)

Seher shook her head, trying to speak through her tears, but no words came out.

"Bolo!" he thundered, his voice echoing in the room. "Tumhare andar itni himmat aayi kahan se? Woh ladki jisne tumhe kabhi kuch nahi kaha, tum uspar haath uthati ho?" (Where did you find the courage to do such stunt? That girl who never said anything to you, and you raise your hand on her.)

"Feras, bas," Ahmed said firmly, rising from his seat. "Control yourself." (Feras, stop.)

But Feras wasn't listening. He pointed an accusatory finger at Seher, his entire body trembling with rage. "Tumhare jaise log sirf sharmindagi ke laayak hain! Is ghar mein tumhari koi izzat aur koi hessiat nahi hai." (People like you are only worthy of shame! In this house, you have no respect and no status.)

Seher broke into uncontrollable sobs, shaking her head as if denying the accusations. Chachi knelt beside her daughter, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Anam tumhare jitni hai, par sara ghar sambhal leti ha, aur tum..." Feras continued, his voice now colder, quieter but no less menacing. "Uski izzat karna seekho, Seher. Warna jo kuch abhi hua, woh kuch bhi nhi hai, iss se bhi battar halat karun ga tumhari." (Anam is your same age, but she manages the whole house, and you...) (Learn to respect her, Seher. Otherwise, what just happened is nothing, next time I won't hold back.)

Anam, still clutching his arm, stepped in front of him, her tear-streaked face inches from his. "Feras, please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Bas kijiye. Bohot hogaya, please." (Stop it. It's enough, Feras please)

For the first time, Feras seemed to register her presence. His hard gaze softened slightly as he looked into her tear-filled eyes. Her small hands gripping his arm bought him back to reality, grounding him.

Taking a deep breath, Feras straightened, his jaw still clenched. He glanced at Ahmed, who was watching him with a mixture of disapproval and understanding. Without another word, Feras turned on his heel and strode out of the room, his heavy steps echoing through the house.

Anam watched him go, her heart a swirl of emotions...