𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐀

9. 𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗸𝗮𝗯𝗵𝗶 𝗻𝗮𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗮 𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗵𝗲..

❛ Koshish bohot ki ke raaz-e-mohabbat bayan na ho,
Mumkin kaha tha ke aag lage aur dhuwaa na ho. ❜

Third Person's POV:

Altan scrubbed the skin of his cheeks for the third time in a row as he could still feel the stickiness of the gum on his skin which he used to glue the fake beard on his face.

He splashed the water on his face and Arya's words echoed in his mind.

“Tumhari baat sahi sabit hui. Postmortem report se pata laga hai ki Bakhtawar ki maut zeher khane se hui hai joh isey juice ya koi liquid form mein di gayi ho.”

In the afternoon, before Altan went to take a bath, Arya gave him the news which he was waiting to be confirmed and it did.

He held the marble slab and breathed. His suspicions were turned into certainty.

Before he could reach Bakhtawar, somebody else did and poisoned him to death.

There was someone who didn't want Altan to find the truth or specifically about them but they didn't know that he was Altan Mirza and even if they were hiding deep in the pacific ocean, he'd find them and make them suffer.

Altan plashed the water on his face again, wetting his already damp hair. His mind was throwing a fit, telling him there was a traitor amongst them or else how could somebody know that he was here to take Bakhtawar down?

Only Arya, Zaviyar and Jannat knew about his plans and these three would rather hang themselves on a ceiling fan than betray him.

He shut his eyes and shook his head a little. It was his last day in India as tomorrow he was leaving for Pakistan.

So once he enters his base, it'd become much easier for him to connect the dots.

He looked in the mirror and pushed his long hair behind. They weren't enough to tie them in a bun or pony as he liked to keep the length of his soft curls till his nape.

His face looked red and his sea green eyes looked bright. He was beginning to forget the shine of his eyes because of the brown contact lens.

Altan tightened the towel around his waist and got out of the bathroom. His brows darted up in finding the room empty as Arya was there.

He walked to the living room and didn't find him there either. His gaze fell on the table where his DSLR camera was resting with some photographs underneath it.

He picked the camera and placed it aside. He lifted a picture in his hands and his lips curled up slightly.

There she was laughing and her head was thrown back. She was in a light yellow churidar and her hair was tied in a loose braid and some of the tendrils were peeking out of the tail, flowing in the air.

Whenever Altan got the opportunity, he sneakily clicked her photos on his camera without being caught by anyone.

He asked Arya to get him the pictures to put in the album, which Altan was going to make later and being a nice friend, Arya did.

Altan went through each photo one by one, taking his sweet time by admiring the beauty in the photo.

Suddenly the door opened, “Assalamu-Astaghfirullah, tauba!”

Mahoor turned around, seeing Altan standing half naked only in a towel.

Whereas, Altan stilled. He wasn't wearing his fake beard, his lenses and this wasn't the time to reveal his identity to her.