SS: For You I Will - COMPLETE Page 14 - Page 3

Brilliant update! :)

ahahah too funny!..blending is not what you do well! ahahha!🤣

CHAPTER THREE

Asad pulls up in front of a small building along a dirt lane. "Is this the right address?"

Zoya checks the map on her computer tablet. "Yes, this is the address you gave me. Is this the factory? Why is it in such a desolate area?"

Asad gets out and looks around. "Mr. Gill said he turned over the daily management to his son. One of his business improvement measures was to move the factory out of town. It has something to do with cheaper land out here."

"Yes, I can see why the land is so cheap." Zoya looks around. "There is nothing here but jungle. We haven't seen another building for miles."

"Kilometers," he corrects her. "Remember, we use metric here."

"Miles, kilometers, does it matter? Either way, there is still nothing around but this factory." Zoya gets out of the car and carefully settles a wrapped package on the seat. She looks around again. "What is that awful smell?"

Asad's mouth curls in disgust. "I don't want to know."

"It's terrible." She covers her nose and retreats back into the car. She puts her package on the floor. "Where is Mr. Gill?"

"Perhaps we missed him." Asad also gets back in the car and glares at the package. "You took forever at that jalebi stand."

She shifts the bag, as though to protect it from his annoyance. "Mr. Khan, I hadn't eaten since breakfast. Imagine if we hadn't stopped. I would have died from hunger."

"I couldn't get that lucky," he mutters under his breath.

"What?" She turns in her seat to face him. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." He gestures to the package. "Did you have to buy out his whole supply? The smell has filled my car."

"It's better than the smell out there," she shoots back. "Mr. Khan, that poor man was standing out over hot oil in this terrible heat. He said he couldn't go home until he sold his entire product. I had to help him."

"He told you a sad story to get your money."

"And, in return, I got his jalebiyan." She shrugs. "Everyone got what they wanted."

"Not me. I didn't want a kilo of sticky, smelly jalebiyan in my car. Are you sure that package is secure?"

"It's fine." She opens the bag and breaks off a piece of jalebi. She pops it in her mouth. "Mmm, these are so delicious. I had to take some to take home to Phupee and Najma." She breaks off another piece and holds it out to him. "Here, try for yourself."

"No thank you."

A drop of sweet liquid oozes out of the jalebi and drips onto her fingers. Asad's mouth curls in disgust. He jerks away from her.

"Allah miya, what's wrong with you, Mr. Khan?" she demands. "Is this why you're always so bitter? You can't tolerate even a single drop of sweetness in your life?"

"I do not want my hands sticky and dirty."

"I have antiseptic wipes in my bag." Still holding out the sticky treat, she fumbles in her bag with her free hand.

"Ms. Farooqui!"

She looks up when he grabs her wrist. There is a smear of sticky liquid and crushed jalebi across his cheek. She looks from his furious expression to the broken piece in her hand then back to his face.

"Oh." She holds out the wipes for him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Khan."

He releases her wrist to take the wipes then glares at her as he cleans his cheek.

"Umm, you missed a spot." Zoya gestures with the hand still holding the crushed sweet.

Asad jerks his head back and grabs her wrist again. He uses his reflection in the rear-view mirror to wipe his face. Then he drops the wipe over her hand, covering the sticky mess.

"I do not want to eat your jalebiyan." He speaks slowly and clearly, as though Zoya is mentally challenged. "Keep them away from me."

He finally frees her wrist.

"Alright.' She hurriedly cleans her hand and disposes of the crushed sweet. "It's just as well that you didn't eat it. Imagine what would have happened to your system if you had. You might have gone into shock from the sudden introduction of sweetness."

"Ms. Farooqui, only children eat sweets. Grown adults are supposed to know better than to eat sugary foods all the time."

"Mr. Khan, this is a special circumstance. I had to eat what was available. Grown adults are supposed to be flexible, too."

"Are you calling me rigid again?"

"Yes!"

"I am not rigid. I'm disciplined." Asad takes a deep breath. "And your lack of discipline may have cost me an important business relationship, musibat. Mr. Gill isn't here."

She looks pointedly at her watch. "It's only 1:30. We're still early, Mr. Khan."

He's about to speak again when the factory door opens. A slender young man walks out, holding a cell phone to his ear. His mouth is turned down at the corners and he glares at them.

"Who are you?" he demands.

Asad gets out of the car. "My name is Asad Ahmed Khan. I have a meeting with Mr. Gill here at 2:00."

"I'm Mr. Gill." The man waves his hand dismissingly. "I didn't schedule any meetings. Get off my property before I thrash you."

He turns to walk back into the factory. Asad's mouth tightens into a thin line at the younger man's rudeness.

"I'm here to meet Mr. Mandeep Gill," Asad's voice is sharp and biting. "We spoke this morning."

The young man stops in his tracks. He turns back to them, the scowl melting off his face. He looks carefully at Asad's well-cut suit and expensive shoes, then to Zoya still in the car. He smiles but his features are strained.

"I'm Ravi Gill." His voice is now polite and respectful. "I've taken over for my father. Why are you meeting him? I wasn't told about this."

Asad crosses his arms and glares at Ravi. "The quality of your beams has gotten very poor lately. Your father is meeting me here to walk through the melting and building process."

Ravi looks alarmed. "He's coming here? You scheduled a visit without consulting me?"

"When I have a problem, I discuss it directly with the person in charge." Now it's Asad's turn to sneer. "Clearly, that isn't you."

Ravi's face flushes at Asad's insult but his voice is still calm. "I assure you that all is well with our process and our plant. However, if you have an issue, let's go inside and discuss it."

Zoya opens her car door. Asad turns back to her.

"Stay here," he orders.

She blinks. "But it's a hundred degrees ' I mean thirty-eight degrees ' out here."

"The car is running and the air conditioning is on." He blocks the door. "Decent women do not tour dirty, smelly factories. I have enough problems without you causing a riot among the workers."

"I won't cause a riot."

He looks pointedly at her jeans. "Dressed like that, you might." He leans in closer and lowers his voice. "This isn't Bhopal, Ms. Farooqui. Men in these small villages are used to traditional women."

Zoya settles back into her seat. "Well, what am I supposed to do while you're in there?"

"How about doing more research?" He smirks at her. "That's what you would have done in Agpur. At least you get to do it in comfort here."

He shuts the door on her reply. Asad stalks over to Ravi and throws open the factory door. Ravi stares coldly at Zoya then hurries after Asad.

Zoya fiddles with her tablet then notices a little girl peeping at her from the side of the building. She smiles but the little girl ducks out of sight. A few seconds later, the little girl comes back. Again, Zoya smiles and the child hides. The third time, more little heads peer around the corner of the factory. Zoya gets out of the car and approaches the children.

"Hello." She gives them a friendly wave. "I'm Zoya. Who are you?"

The children look at each other but none of them speak. A few more children appear. They are painfully thin with sun-burned skin and some even have open sores. Zoya steps closer and the children run away.

"Allah, miya," Zoya whispers. "What are these kids doing here? They should be in school, not playing at a dirty, smelly factory."

The little girl pokes her head around the side of the building again. Zoya goes back to the car then returns with the package of jalebiyan. She peels off the paper cover and holds out the sweets.

"I'm Zoya. Would you like a jalebi?" she asks gently. "They're very good."

The child looks around then slides slowly towards Zoya. The girl looks longingly at the jalebiyan but doesn't reach for them. Zoya takes a piece and holds it out for the girl. The child hesitates. Zoya nods encouragingly and kneels down in the dirt. The child reaches for the treat then jerks her hand back, looking at Zoya with huge, frightened eyes. Zoya is patient, holding the sweet out for her. Finally the little girl takes the treat and stuffs it in her mouth as though she hadn't eaten in days. She rushes back around the corner.

"Allah, miya, why is she so scared of me?" Zoya wonders. "She looked as if she expected me to beat her. And her hands are so red and raw. What happened to her?"

Her mussing is interrupted by the little girl, who has now brought her friends with her. All the children look at Zoya with equally frightened, anxious eyes. Zoya puts down the package and breaks the jalebiyan into smaller pieces. She offers the pieces to the sickly children. Like the little girl, they all hesitate then take a piece.

Zoya hands out more sweets. "Do you live near here?"

The children look at each other but don't answer. They continue taking pieces of the offered treat then back away from Zoya, staying out of her reach. Finally the first little girl approaches Zoya.

"Didi, may I take a piece to my mother?" Her voice is small and shaky. "She's very sick. I'm sure it will make her feel better."

Zoya leans closer to her. The girl cries out and raises her arms to protect her head. Zoya's eyes fill with tears at the girl's frightened reflex. She remains very quiet and still. The girl lowers her arms slowly but her eyes remain wide and frightened.

"Where is your mother?" Zoya asks in a gentle voice.

"In the back," the girl whispers.

"Take me to her." Zoya rises and picks up the remaining treat, not bothering to wipe the dirt off her jeans.

She follows the children around to the back of the factory. Zoya stumbles to a stop at the filthy shanty town she finds. The small shacks are held together with mud and sticks and covered with rags. Her eyes tear up again at the stench of human waste, sweat and despair.

There are a few women wandering around, tending to children and cooking over an open fire. They all stop their work when they see Zoya. Their eyes widen and they hurriedly grab at the children, dragging them into the tiny, filthy shacks. Only the first little girl and Zoya remain.

A woman staggers over to them. She is so thin and malnourished that her bones show through her cracked, sun-burned skin. Her breathing is labored, her eyes and nose drip moisture and her body shakes with the effort of holding herself upright.

"Pushpa, come here," the woman orders in a raw, congested voice.

The little girl runs to her mother and tries to support the woman with her tiny body. "Look, Ammi! Didi brought us jalebiyan."

She holds up a bit of sweet for her mother's inspection. The woman's gasp turns into a coughing fit. She falls to her knees, even with Pushpa trying to support her. Zoya runs to her side but the woman pushes her away.

"Leave," she orders in her raspy voice.

A loud, booming voice calls out before Zoya can speak. "What's going on here?"

They turn to see a large, red-faced man stalking over to them. Zoya instinctively moves to stand in front of the sick woman. The man glares at her then looks around.

"Who brought this outsider here?" he demands.

He sees Pushpa still holding a bit of jalebi. He slaps it out of her hand. The child cries out. Then he slaps her again. Zoya catches his arm before he can hit the little girl anymore.

"Stop it," she cries. "She's just a child!"

Zoya struggles but the man throws her off. She watches in open-mouthed horror as he unbuckles his belt and pulls it out of his pants in a quick, practiced manner. The man lashes the sick mother.

"So this is how you repay my kindness?" the man screams. "I give you all work, food and shelter and you bring this indecent s**t here? I'll show you. I'll show all of you!"

He raises his arm to whip the woman again. Zoya shrieks and throws herself at the man. They struggle for a minute but the man is stronger. He throws Zoya to the ground and raises his belt to her.

"So you think you're equal to a man?" His eyes glitter with rage. "You think you can wear pants and tell me what to do? I'll show you!"

He turns the belt so that the buckle side is out. Zoya screams as the metal and leather lash her arm with a sicken thud.

Chapter 4: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/77729442

Author's Note: All mistakes are mine and made accidentally. This story is not intended to hurt anyone's feelings, culture or beliefs. Next update is on Friday morning, New York time!

That was nicely written! :)

OMG!!! That is sooo sad! Hopefully Asad comes to her rescue! Most likely xD Thanks for the PM. :) I loved this chapter!!

Nicee ff
I read all the parts
Really very nice...pls update soon and pm me

Oh my my.