11| Touching What's Mine

T O U C H I N G W H A T' S M I N E

W O R D  C O U N T: 2193

Today is my husband's birthday and so I dedicate this chapter to him. Could you guys please pause and make a mini prayer for him. He motivates me so much to pursue my passion for writing. ♥️

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the second update within 24 hours.

Anaabiya sat at the round table, her fingers mindlessly scrolling through her phone, though she wasn't really reading anything. The screen blurred in front of her as she kept flicking her thumb up and down, pretending to be busy.

In reality, she was just trying to pass the time.

Trying to act like she wasn't affected.

The sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and low music filled the grand hall, but she felt oddly detached from it all. Like she was just existing in the space, waiting for time to pass so she could leave.

She should've never come.

Just as she was debating whether she could slip away without drawing attention, a shadow loomed over her table.

"Hey," a voice said, smooth and confident.

Anaabiya's head snapped up.

A man stood there, tall, well-dressed, his hair styled in a way that made it clear he cared about his appearance. He was good-looking, maybe a few years older than her, with a casual smile on his lips.

"I don't think we've met," he continued. "I'm Farhan. Friend of Huzaifa."

She stiffened slightly. Her eyes darted around the hall, hoping to spot Huzaifa somewhere nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

Not wanting to be rude, she forced a polite smile. "Oh. Nice to meet you."

Farhan pulled out the chair next to hers before she could say anything, settling in comfortably.

"You're Humza's wife, right?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, studying her.

The word 'wife' still felt foreign to her. Like it wasn't truly hers to claim.

"Yes," she answered shortly, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation.

It wasn't.

"I gotta say, I was surprised when I heard," he continued, ignoring her clear disinterest. "Didn't think Humza was the type to settle down."

Anaabiya shifted in her seat. "Yeah, well... things happen."

Farhan chuckled, leaning in slightly. "You seem uncomfortable. Am I making you nervous?"

She forced a tight smile. "Not at all."

She hoped he would take the hint. But he didn't.

Instead, he placed his elbow on the table, angling his body toward her. "You know, you don't have to sit here all alone. I can keep you company."

Her fingers curled around her phone. "I'm fine, really."

Farhan smirked, clearly enjoying this. "You don't look fine. You look like you're waiting for someone to rescue you."

She swallowed the irritation bubbling in her chest.

Where the hell was Huzaifa when she actually needed him?

Farhan smirked. "You know, I don't get why Humza left you alone. If you were my wife, I wouldn't let you out of my sight."

Anaabiya tensed. She gripped her phone tighter, trying to mask her discomfort with indifference. "Well, good thing I'm not, then," she said, forcing a polite smile.

Farhan chuckled. "Feisty. I like that."

She exhaled slowly, praying he would take the hint and leave. But he didn't.

"Come on," he continued, leaning in slightly. "A beautiful woman sitting all alone at a party? That's just sad. How about I fix that?"

Anaabiya swallowed the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"Are you, though?" He grinned, as if he found this amusing. "Because it looks to me like you're just waiting for someone."

She was.

Unknowingly, her eyes flickered across the room, searching. Not for Humza, but for Huzaifa, hoping he'd magically appear and save her from this conversation.

But she didn't find Huzaifa.

Instead, she found Humza.

He was no longer lounging lazily like before. The girl who had been practically draped over him was gone. Now, he sat there still surrounded by other men, his one arm resting on the back of the sofa, the other holding a glass, which he sipped from slowly.

But it was his eyes that made her pulse stutter.

He was watching.

Jaw tight. Expression unreadable. But his eyes—furious.

A slow wave of realization hit her.

He was angry.

Good.

For the past hour, he had been toying with her, treating her like nothing more than a source of entertainment. He had looked at her while holding another woman, smirking like he knew exactly how much it affected her.

Why should she sit here feeling miserable while he enjoyed himself?

If he could play games, so could she.

Forcing herself to ignore the tight feeling in her chest, she turned back to Farhan, letting a small smile touch her lips.

"You know what?" she said, tucking a loose strand of hair back in her hijab. "Maybe you're right. Sitting alone is kind of sad."

Farhan's grin widened. "I knew you'd come around."

She leaned forward slightly, pretending to be interested. "So, tell me. What do you do?"

Farhan launched into a conversation about his business, about his love for travelling and parties. He would occasionally flirt and Anaabiya without thinking of the consequences did something she never thought she'd do—she laughed. Not because she found him funny, but because she wanted Humza to see it.

And he did.

From across the room, he kept watching. Sipping his drink. Eyes locked onto hers.

The air around them felt charged, even with the distance between them.

Anaabiya ignored the way her heart pounded and kept playing along, even as a part of her wanted to get up and run.

Anaabiya felt the shift before it even happened.

Farhan, who had been sitting at a comfortable distance, suddenly scooted his chair closer. The screech of the legs against the floor made her stiffen.

Then, before she could react, his hand landed on her lap.

A cold, slimy touch that made her stomach churn.

She froze, her entire body going rigid. Disgust clawed up her throat as she quickly shoved his hand away.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, voice sharp.

Farhan chuckled, unfazed. "Relax. We both know Humza won't mind."

Her pulse roared in her ears.

The audacity.

She immediately leaned back, trying to put distance between them, but he only leaned in closer.

Her eyes darted across the room, searching for Humza.

But he wasn't there.

The spot where he had been sitting just moments ago was empty.

He was gone.

Her stomach sank.

Without another thought, she pushed her chair back and got up, intending to leave.

But Farhan grabbed her wrist, yanking her back toward him with alarming force.

"Where do you think you're going?" he murmured, his grip tightening.

Anaabiya's heart pounded in panic as she tried to pull away, but he caught her by the arm this time, holding her close. The overpowering scent of alcohol hit her, making her stomach turn even more.

"You were interested a while ago," he slurred. "Why are you playing hard to get now? This is ridiculous."

She turned her face away, nausea rising at his proximity.

"Let me go," she said, her voice low but firm.

But he didn't.

Instead, he smirked, his fingers digging into her skin.

And just as she sucked in a breath, ready to scream—

Something happened.

A sudden, firm tap on Farhan's shoulder made him pause.

He turned, irritated—

But the moment he did, a strong fist connected with his face.

The sickening crack of bone against bone echoed through the air.

Farhan stumbled back, his grip on Anaabiya loosening instantly. A strangled groan escaped him as he clutched his jaw, eyes wide in shock.

To say Humza looked angry would be an understatement.

His entire presence radiated fury—raw, unfiltered, and dangerous.

His jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. His shoulders were stiff, his fists still curled, and his eyes...

His eyes were murderous.

Farhan barely had time to recover before Humza grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward.

"You must have lost your goddamn mind," Humza said, his voice terrifyingly low. "Touching what's mine?"

Anaabiya's breath caught in her throat.

Farhan, now clearly sobering up, stammered, "I—I didn't—"

But Humza wasn't interested in explanations.

His fist met Farhan's stomach next, knocking the wind out of him. The man collapsed to his knees, gasping.

Anaabiya stood frozen, her heart hammering as she watched Humza roll his shoulders back as if he was trying to control himself.

Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to her.

And for the first time that night—she wasn't sure what she saw there.

Farhan groaned as he tried to push himself up, his hand pressing against the floor for support.

But Humza wasn't done.

With a swift, merciless movement, he drove his foot into Farhan's ribs, sending him crashing back down with another pained grunt.

Humza's face was set like stone, eyes dark and deadly. He was ready to go at him again—his body coiled with barely restrained rage—when Huzaifa suddenly stepped in, grabbing his arm.

"Enough. You'll kill him." Huzaifa said firmly, his voice urgent.

Humza's jaw flexed, his fists still twitching. He shook off Huzaifa's grip, breathing heavily, before finally letting out a sharp exhale.

Then, his eyes found Anaabiya.

Her heart skipped a beat.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his hands still clenched at his sides. There was something unhinged about the way he was looking at her—something raw, furious, and completely unreadable.

Before she could even process it, he stormed toward her.

Her breath hitched, fear prickling her spine for a split second.

What was he going to do?

But he didn't stop—he reached for her hand, his grip firm, possessive. And then—without a word—he pulled her along with him, pushing past the crowd, past the murmurs, past everything.

Outside.

Away.

Humza didn't let go of her hand until they reached the parking lot. The cool night air hit her face, but it did nothing to calm the rapid beating of her heart.

The moment they stopped in front of his car, he finally released her, but he didn't step away.

Instead, he started pacing.

Like a caged animal.

His hands ran through his hair roughly, his chest rising and falling, his breathing still erratic. He looked like he was trying to keep himself from exploding.

Then, suddenly, he stopped.

His head snapped toward her, eyes burning.

"Are you happy now?" His voice was sharp, laced with something dangerous. "Satisfied?"

Anaabiya blinked, still processing everything that had just happened. "What—?"

"You wanted attention, didn't you?" He took a step closer, eyes glinting under the dim parking lot lights. "You wanted to play your little game, laughing with that bastard, acting all coy—"

Her stomach twisted, but she held her ground. "You're unbelievable," she shot back, folding her arms across her chest. "I was just having a conversation!"

"Conversation?" He let out a bitter laugh, his jaw tightening. "Yeah? Looked more like you were enjoying yourself."

"Why does it matter?" she snapped. "I mean, you certainly seemed to be enjoying yourself earlier."

His expression darkened.

"Oh, so that's what this was?" He stepped even closer, his voice lowering into something more dangerous. "You were trying to get back at me?"

Anaabiya clenched her fists. "Why does it even bother you, Humza? You do what you want, right? You wrap your arm around girls, you flirt, you don't even care that I'm there. But the moment I talk to someone, it's a problem?"

He exhaled harshly, looking away for a second before turning his gaze back to her. "There's a difference," he muttered, voice rough.

She scoffed. "Oh really? What difference?"

His eyes flickered with something—something unreadable, something intense—but he didn't answer.

Instead, he just stared at her.

And that made her more furious.

"You have no right to be angry!" she bit out. "You don't care about me, remember? This is just a contract, right? So why do you look like you're ready to commit murder over something that shouldn't even matter to you?"

His jaw locked, and for a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, he said, "Go inside the car, Anaabiya."

His tone left no room for argument.

But she wasn't going to give in so easily.

"No," she countered stubbornly. "Not until you answer me—"

"Anaabiya." His voice dropped further, dangerously controlled now. "Get. In. The. Car."

Something in the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed, hesitating for just a second, before finally breaking eye contact and turning towards the car.

But as she reached for the door handle, she felt him step closer, his presence looming behind her.

"This conversation isn't over," he murmured, just as she opened the door and got in.

How was it?

E D I T E D on 14.2.2025