8.3 • Murderer's Daughter

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Arzaan was staring at the documents sent by his father for the last twenty minutes, trying to find a loophole in it. But there was none.

“Do I really have to get married for five freaking years to inherit the property?”

The middle-aged lawyer sitting in front of him nodded thoughtfully, “Arzaan, this condition has been a part of inheritance contract of your family for last three generations. Your father had married your mother to get the property and you know how depressing their marriage was. I know it might sound very utopian but wait until you find the right girl for yourself.”

“It does sound very utopian, Naseer Uncle. I don't have time to wait.”

“Then marry any woman you trust, who isn't greedy.”

“Naseer Uncle, there's no such wom- wait! There's actually a woman I can trust.” He smiled.

💞💞💞

Iram stared at him blankly after what he just said. The banana bread, bran muffins and mango smoothie sitting on the table unnoticed by Arzaan as he looked up at Iram with hopeful eyes.

“Arzaan Sir...” Iram started.

“Yes?” He asked expectantly.

“I think... you should eat the breakfast.” She passed him an awkward smile and went to the kitchen. Arzaan was left shocked and embarassed.

💞💞💞

In the evening he tried again to persuade her. He entered the kitchen where she was preparing for dinner.

“Umm... Iram.”

She glanced his way and then continued kneading the dough. The black apron was brushed white here and there and her hands were filled with the henna of wet flour.

“See, I really need the property. I've so many investment plans.” But his words sounded very selfish to his own ears. He sighed before looking up and spoke, “Alright, I promise you that ten percent of what I inherit will be donated to orphanages.”

Iram looked at him in shock and disbelief, “Are you serious?”

“I can sign a contract if you want. But only if you marry me.”

She lowered her eyes and continued kneading the dough. Arzaan left from the kitchen, letting her have some time to think over it.

💞💞💞

“I'm ready to marry you.” Iram told him while serving him the breakfast next morning.

Arzaan smiled victoriously before saying, “Let's go for shopping then. My family will come running hearing about my marriage. You need to look a part of our circle. Or my stepmother will eat out your ears.”

Iram passed him a bored look before walking back inside the kitchen. But Arzaan whose happiness knew no bounds, enjoyed the breakfast with a good mood.

💞💞💞

Iram gasped when Arzaan took her to a fashion store with high end designer dresses. She could never even think of entering a store like that. It would take her salary of twelve months to buy one dress from that store. It was way out of her league.

“Arzaan Sir, it's too expensive. There's a store nearby where sale is going on. We can by clothes from there.” She requested.

Arzaan passed her a look, “Iram, don't call me Sir. Call me Arzaan. And I'm doing it only to save you from my stepmother. That woman will insult you brutally if she saw you wearing anything worth less than fifty thousand.”

“What? Fifty thousand for one article of clothing? That's my salary of two months.” She panicked.

“Iram, calm down.”

A woman came to them and smiled, “May I help you, Sir? What are you looking for?”

Arzaan smiled and pulled Iram forward, “I am looking for some dresses for fiancee.”

The woman's smiles faltered seeing Iram. His expensive Armani suit and her five hundred rupee worth suit didn't go well together. But she quickly hid her disappointment, “Umm... there are some latest traditional suits that came in just yesterday. Would you like to try them, madam?”

Iram nodded hesitantly.

The woman showed them the way. Arzaan pulled Iram with him while Iram kept telling him to buy from sale instead. He made her try more than fifty dresses and everytime she would look at the price tag, her head would start spinning. After two hours of trying dresses, Arzaan finally felt like he got enough dresses for Iram and his enough dresses meant at least thirty dresses.

“Don't you think it's too much?” Iram asked him as they carried the shopping bags to the car.

“In comparison to my closet's space, it's way too less. We will come back for shopping next month.” He passed her a smile so sweet that her blood pressure increased.

💞💞💞

Two days later, their Nikkah took place. No family was invited because they had no real families. It was only Alishba, her grandmother and Arzaan's personal assistant Kashif. They became the witnesses of the marriage. Arzaan felt goosebumps on his arms as the Qazi turned towards Iram, beginning to ask her if she accepts Arzaan as her husband. But he noticed a disturbing detail. Her father's name was Jahangir Zulfiqar. The man who had murdered his mother.

Iram had given her answer as yes and the Qazi turned to him. Arzaan was asked the question. He kept quiet, too shocked to say anything. But Alishba's grandmother patted his shoulder.

“Arzaan, don't feel scared. Iram is a pure soul. She will bring happiness into your life.” She assured him in her weak voice. Arzaan stared at her wrinkled face and motherly smile before looking at the Qazi, “I do.”

And the realisation dawned upon him. He had married a murderer's daughter. The murderer who had killed his mother.

•••

Question: Would you choose Arzaan over a toxic hero?

•••

A few weeks ago I had put a story on my Instagram where I had basically shared that I got a new story idea titled Murderer's Daughter. Well, it's that story for those who follow me on Instagram.

And the others can follow me there too. I keep posting fun stuff, reels, edits, etc.

And those who still aren't voting, just dare to comment on this book and I will make sure to block you so that you can't read the book again. If you don't care about me, then I don't care about you either.

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