𝔇𝔞𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔇𝔲𝔰𝔨: 𝔐𝔞𝔫𝔢 𝔄𝔡 𝔙𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔲𝔪
A man to save, a dynasty to break and a love to die for.
Come dive into a modern and desi retelling of a beloved classic, Beauty and the Beast, part two of 'The Legacy Duet', Taimoor's story.
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𝕬 line of dishes was set on the table, bearing platters heaped with food. Bread, rice, fruits, bread, and greens. Baskets stuffed with brown dinner rolls that nearly tumbled onto the cloth. I had to leave my self-imposed exile at some point, but I'd yet to decide if this dinner was the way to do it.
Daania sat towards my right, in conversation with Riaan, her plate untouched, her attention on whatever the fuck he had been saying for the past ten minutes. Affandi and my mother sat in front of me, late additions to the dinner party, chatting with Fariha and the younger Mansoor sibling. On my left, sat Zeenia, conversing with Daania's and Fariha's mother, her smooth voice rising above the others. And at the head of the table, sat Mansoor Khan, ignoring me and my presence his gaze firmly fixed on his longtime friend, Fariha's father.
Once my mentor.
A stand-in father figure.
And now, my reluctant father-in-law.
"Taimoor, I've heard you're company is working on incorporating AI technology in the environment sector."
I turned to face him.
"Amongst other things," I replied, knowing full well it would end this conversation. Daania frowned but said nothing, simply cutting into her steak.
"Yes, we're trying to digitalize things," Zeenia answered, glaring at me as she drank her water. In front of her, Asfand served himself food, deliberately ignoring his wife's irritation with me.
"Riaan is great in that department," Fariha talked up her husband, grimacing at me.
"Of course, he is," I stared at my wife."You'll be amazed by the things that have been happening around the world, I'm in awe of the things people can think of. The world is advancing at a rapid pace."
Crisis averted, annoyingly, Riaan simply turned back to my wife. My vision dimmed, and I forced one semi-normal breath into my lungs. I was not going to stroke out over this.
"So how was your time in Italy? I've heard it's a beautiful place."
I set my fork down, staring at my mother, shocked that she'd bothered to ask. It was the last thing I expected her to say, and it was written all over my face.
"It was," I answered and that was that.
Mercifully, dinner ended not a long while after that. We were then forced to sit in the small den, sipping on coffee. Fariha's father, a prominent businessman, decided that he wanted to keep me company.
