Obsession

With a sprained ankle, she sat in the bed, hissing every now and then. While descending down the stairs, her foot had accidentally twisted and she lost her footing. As soon as she was about to fell, he held her and then she had realized her foot had been badly sprained, making her croak out with pain. Upon realizing, he held her in his arms and carried her bridal style all the way from plane to the car and from car to the hotel room. She had wriggled in his arms, protestingly yet a glare from his side and she shut her eyes tightly. 

A team of doctor had already came, rushing to check up on her on Shehryaar's demand. 

As now she sat there. They were in their room now in one of the most expensive hotel in the world. His meeting was bound to be within two hours but he was just rashly making calls after the sudden call he had received at the plane.

She didn't dare ask him what happened because by looking how tense he was, she knew something serious happened. Her tension had increased by leaps and bounds when she heard the words 'money laundering', 'model' and last but not the least, 'fbi'

"I realized that. Find that spy in my company and kill her before I get to set my eyes on her. Make sure to cease the money laundering for now. I will deal it with myself when I come back to Pakistan," he barked orders on the phone. 

Her breath was still struck in her throat.

It seemed like her recording has started playing it's role. She hoped, hoped with all her might that she would reach the country before Shehryaar would come to know about her.

With her hands in her lap, she sat on bed and just continued to stare at the floor. She wanted him to stop making calls one after another and take a breath so she could request him to shift to another room. She can't just sleep with him in the same room. She can't.

He was still growling commands on the phone, asking for camera footages, some sort of files, kidnapping someone and what not. 

He at last dropped himself on the bed and took a deep breath, before crossing his legs while his shoes were on.

Sheharzaad got tense as she fixed herself before settling the scarf on her head and scooted away. Rather she stood up, immediately and limped to the royal blue couch. The medicine was already playing its role, her ankle didn't hurt much.

She was thankful that he let her go without any protest.

"S-sir?" she called out, her tone gentle.

Her eyes detected a small smirk forming on his lips. 

He had one of his arm on his eyes as he hummed questioningly in response.

Her toes curled inward, "B-baat karni hai, zruri," she said in a hushed tone.

(I want to talk about something important)

The fact that he was on the same bed as hers was turning her whole body clammy and squirming.