Qa'id Mutalaq ✓

Chapter Twenty One

I felt a pounding ache in my head and realized I couldn't move my hands; they were tied up. Opening my eyes, I blinked against the light in Zayn's room. Panic hit me as I remembered what happened: he'd injected me with something and tied me up.

Trying to scream, my throat felt dry and scratchy, making it hard to make any noise. I struggled against the ropes, grunting until I broke free, remembering my self-defense classes. Gasping for air, I noticed I wasn't wearing my hijab, my hair loose around me.

I went to the window, hoping for help, but there was nothing. Startled by footsteps, I grabbed a vase to defend myself. When the door opened, I hit Zayn with the vase, and he groaned in pain as he fell.

I grabbed my abaya and tried to run, but he grabbed my foot. I kicked him away and ran downstairs, but the door was locked. Tears filled my eyes as panic took over, my hair getting in my face.

I found a room and locked the door, but there was pounding throughout the house. Trembling, I tried to open the window, and when I finally did, I was ready to jump out. However, Zayn yanked me back, slapping me and making me fall to the ground. He shut the window and grabbed my arm tightly, causing me pain.

"Please, Zayn, I beg you, please.Let me go," I cried as he grabbed my hair, making me look at him. "You don't understand nice words, do you? You only understand your father's  language-fierce and abusive," he spat, causing me to close my eyes tightly as tears flowed down my cheeks.

He dragged me upstairs, tying my hands again, securing my legs, and silencing me with tape over my mouth. I felt weak, both physically and mentally. I couldn't take it anymore; I just wanted a break from everything. Why is everyone around me so selfish? My cries and screams were muffled by the tape, making it hard to breathe. I wished I could scream until I couldn't anymore.

Exhausted and frustrated, I prayed to allah for I could no longer save myself. I was drained and he was the only one who could help me.
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Days passed, though I couldn't say how many. Two nights had slipped by since my last attempt to escape.

The door creaked open, and the psychopath entered with a smile, carrying a tray. He placed it on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling as he caressed my cheek, still burning from his slap—Though it has been days since he slapped me but I still have a bruise and I still carry the fire of anger in me. "I'm sorry, darling, for slapping you, but you angered me so much. Look what you did to your husband," he smirked, gesturing to his bandaged forehead, earning an eye roll from me.

"You must be hungry, so I brought food for you," he said, his fingers trailing through my hair as he picked up the tray and placed it on my lap. Giving him a glare filled with anger, I shuffled away, pushing the tray off my lap, causing it to crash to the floor. "Darling, why are you doing this? I cooked this for you with so much love," his eyes filled with sadness, but I didn't care. I would rather starve to death than eat anything prepared by him. Besides, I knew Mr. Min would find me soon.

"Water," my voice came out muffled due to the tape. He looked confused. "Huh? Oh, silly me. How will you speak with this tape on?" He chuckled and removed it, causing me to glare at him. "Water," I rasped, my throat dry. He nodded and poured some water into a glass on the nightstand, then held it to my lips since my hands were still tied.

I just wanted to strangle him to death right then and there. Allah, please! I couldn't bear to stay here any longer. Anger boiled within me; I wanted to end it all—myself and him too. My thoughts were interrupted by loud banging on the main door.

"Open this. I will kill you," Mr. Min's voice echoed, causing my eyes to widen. "MR. MIN-" I shouted, but Zayn covered my mouth, silencing me. I struggled against his grip, tears streaming down my face. I was so close to freedom. I pushed the glass off the nightstand, hoping it would create enough noise for Mr. Min to hear.