Setting: This story takes places after Dilshad's shooting but before Tanveer enters the show. This is the sequel to FOR YOU I WILL, which can be found here:
https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/qubool-hai/3453049/ss-for-you-i-will-complete-page-14
Summary: Zoya's new job soon goes from dream to nightmare but Asad maybe too engrossed in his own hostilities to help her escape a WEB OF LIES.
CHAPTER ONE
Najma and Asad are sitting in the living room of their house. Najma is surrounded by her college books while Asad is busy with his laptop. They both look up when there is a knock on the door.
"Who could that be calling at this late hour?" Asad stares at the front door.
Najma looks up from her studying. "I'll check, Bhaijaan."
"No." Asad puts his laptop aside and rises from the sofa. "I'll get it."
He glances over to the kitchen where Dilshad and Zoya are preparing dinner. Dilshad smiles at him but Zoya is focused on her cooking. Asad opens the door to an attractive young man in his mid-twenties dressed in jeans and a wrinkled polo shirt. The man looks tired with blood-shot eyes and stooped shoulders but he smiles at Asad.
"As salaamu 'alaikym," he greets Asad.
"Wa'alaikym salaam," Asad returns his greeting politely but he has a frown on his face.
"I'm sorry to disturb you." The man switches to American-accented English. "Are you Mr. Asad Ahmed Khan?"
"I am." Asad shifts so he's blocking the door.
"Good. That's great." The man's smile turns into a boyish grin, erasing the tiredness from his features. "I have the right address."
Asad's frown deepens. Dilshad comes to the door before he can speak. She gives the stranger a politely inquiring smile. He bows and touches his hand to his forehead.
"Good evening, Mrs. Khan." The man gives her a brilliant smile that transforms his face from attractive to stunning. "I'm sorry to bother you so late in the evening. I'm---"
"Malak!"
Zoya's screech is so loud that Asad and Dilshad turn to look at her. She flies past them to throw herself into Malak's arms.
"Oooff," Malak gasps.
He stumbles back a few paces from the force of Zoya's exuberance. She doesn't notice as she laughs and hugs him tightly. Malak returns her hug then sees Asad over her shoulder. Asad's eyes narrow and he crosses his arms, his well-developed biceps not hidden by the crisp white shirt, his jaw jutting out aggressively. Malak tries to disentangle himself from Zoya.
"Malak, what are you doing here?" Zoya demands, her arms still around his neck. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? When did you get in?"
She radiates vibrant excitement, completely unaware of Asad's hostility. Malak isn't so unobservant. He slips out of her arms and takes a prudent step away from her. Zoya doesn't notice. She bounces on her toes, nearly incandescent with her joy.
"Phupee, this is Malak Hussein." She laughs again. "He used to be my manager in New York. I told you about him, remember?"
"Malak Hussein?" Dilshad's smile also deepens. "Ahh, yes, I do remember you talking about him."
Malak laughs, too, but cautiously as he glances at Asad. "I don't know if that's good or bad but I'm honored to be mentioned."
"Actually, Zoya has told us a great deal about you." Dilshad moves away from the door. "Please, do come in."
Malak enters and Zoya follows him. Asad remains at the door. He uncrosses him arms but the frown remains on his face. Dilshad leads Malak to the living room where Najma has risen from her books. She ducks her head shyly as Dilshad introduces them. Malak gives her a gentle smile.
"So, you're the famous Tamatar. Wow, Zoya didn't exaggerate about you." His smile deepens into a friendly grin. "Which, if you know Zoya, is nearly impossible for her."
Najma giggles then covers her mouth to try to hide it. Zoya puts her hands on her hips and pretends to pout.
"That's not true," she insists. "I do not exaggerate. I simply tell the truth in vivid detail."
Najma giggles again. Dilshad and Malak also laugh at her antics. Asad comes to her side, his frown still in place.
"Do I smell something burning?" he asks, nodding to the kitchen.
Zoya's comical irritation turns into genuine alarm. "The dal!"
She rushes into the kitchen to turn off the gas. Removing the cover, she peers into the pot. "Crisis averted," she announces. "Dinner did not burn."
Asad sighs out his irritation but Dilshad, Najma and Malak laugh it away.
"She hasn't changed a bit," Malak says. "She used to explode microwave meals and burn coffee pots all the time in New York."
Zoya looks up from stirring the dal to stick her tongue out at Malak. "That's because I was focused on my work."
Dilshad, Malak and Najma laugh again. Asad ducks his head, hiding his expression. Malak turns back to Dilshad.
"I'm very sorry to disturb you so late, Mrs. Khan," he says. "I was so anxious to see Zoya that I just dropped my luggage off at the hotel and came right here."
"Then you haven't had time to eat, have you?" Dilshad asks.
"No, but I don't want to disturb you." Malak runs his hand through his hair. It falls neatly back into place. "I can come back tomorrow or whenever it's convenient for you."
Asad opens his mouth but Dilshad speaks before he can.
"Of course not," she says. "Please, join us for dinner. You can relax and tell us what brings you to India."
Malak hesitates and looks past Dilshad to Asad. Asad's expression is cold and shuttered, not welcoming at all. Malak looks to Zoya. She nods so vigorously that her hair falls onto her face.
"Yes, Malak, please stay," she urges. "I can't believe you're here. And I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming."
"I didn't want to tell you until I knew for certain." Malak shrugs. "Then things fell into place so fast it was just as easy to tell you in person."
"Tell me what?" Zoya persists.
Malak grins at her then turns back to Dilshad. "Thank you for your invitation, Mrs. Khan. I'm very pleased to join your family for dinner."
Zoya sighs and drags him to the table. "Stop sweet-talking Phupee and sit down. She's not a senior partner in control of your next promotion."
Malak protests but allows Zoya to lead him. They all sit down with Malak opposite Asad and the ladies in their usual places between them.
"Don't keep us in suspense." Zoya slaps Malak's arm in a friendly manner. "What brings you to India and to Bhopal?"
Malak's smile is so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners. "I work here now."
"You have a job?" Zoya gasps. "In India? When? How? Which company? Why did you leave New York?"
"Take a breath, Zoya." He laughs delightedly. "I finalized the deal only two days ago and got on the first plane here. We're web-based so we can be in any major city in India. I chose Bhopal because of all the great things you say about it when we video-chat."
"Allah miya, what's wrong with you, Malak?" Zoya grabs his arm with both hands. "How could you keep this from me?"
"Oww, Zoya!" Malak pretends to wince in pain. "Take it easy. I need that arm."
"Ms. Farooqui, release him at once," Asad snaps. "Well-behaved ladies do not go around grabbing men."
They all turn to stare at him. Asad's face is tightly set as he looks pointedly at Zoya's hands on Malak. Zoya reluctantly lets go.
"But Mr. Khan, Malak isn't just any man. He's my friend." She leans closer to Malak. "Mr. Khan sometimes thinks we live in the seventeenth century," she confides in a loud stage whisper. "We try to humor him."
Najma chokes on the water she's drinking while Dilshad looks down at her plate to hide her smile. Asad pushes the tissue box closer to his sister and glares at Zoya. Dilshad speaks up quickly.
"So Malak, what do you do?" she asks.
"I hack websites, like Zoya," he answers.
"What?" Asad's voice is sharp and harsh. "What are you accusing her of?"
Again, they all turn to stare at him. Asad's face is very red. Dilshad steps in to soothe the situation.
"So you also work in web security?" Her voice is calm. "Zoya explained it to us but I don't fully understand what your jobs entail."
Malak gives Asad a wary look then smiles at Dilshad. "That's probably because she told you how dangerous it is and how we risk our lives each time we boot up our computers, right?"
They all turn to look at Zoya. Her eyes widen and she shoves a large bite into her mouth. She points to her bulging cheek and flutters her lashes. Dilshad, Najma and Malak laugh while Asad shakes his head and goes back to his own meal.
"Web security is rarely a life and death situation," Malak continues. "Despite what Zoya told you. Mostly we just sit in our cubicles, write reports and test the websites assigned to us."
"I understand companies actually pay you to try to break into their websites, correct?" Dilshad continues.
Malak nods. "Yes. There's no better way to test a site's security than to attack it."
"But why hack into a site if the company is aware of an impending attack?" Najma asks. "Won't they be prepared for you?"
"That's the point." Zoya swallows her bite hurriedly. "A site can be attacked at any time. All companies should be ready to fend off hackers. If they can't protect their site while under a full alert, how will they guard it the rest of the time?"
Najma purses her lips. "What happens if you don't successfully hack a site? How do they know you even tried to attack them if you don't break in?"
"We leave a marker behind if we successfully complete the hack," Malak explains. "It contains our company information to prove we made the hit. This is different than in the real world, where a successful hack is one that is not detected."
"I see," Dilshad nods. "What's your success rate for hacking sites?"
"I'm good but web security requires expert hackers, which I'm not," Malak admits with an embarrassed shrug. "That's why I'm in management. I hand out assignments and write up evaluations." He nods to Zoya. "But Zero Strike here has never been defeated."
"Zero Strike?" Asad speaks through gritted teeth. "What does that mean?"
"Ah, yes, Zoya's hacker name." Dilshad speaks up quickly. "She told us you gave it to her. How did you come up with it?"
"Zoya's web cracking codes are so good she can suspend web timers, so she's in and out of sites in zero seconds, according to their clocks," Malak explains. "A strike is a perfectly executed hack, one that's done so fast and cleanly that it leaves no traces. Hence, 'Zero Strike'." He gives Zoya a gentle smile. "And I wanted something that uses the letter 'Z'. It's distinctive. There aren't many names that start with 'Z'."
Zoya's bubbly energy dims like a light bulb losing electricity. "My Ammi and Appi's names begin with 'Z'."
"I know." Malak covers her hand with his. "'Z' is a great letter."
Asad sucks in his breath on an audible hiss. Malak instantly releases Zoya. Dilshad looks at Asad while Najma hurriedly directs the conversation.
"Ahh, so you hand out assignments, correct?" she asks. "Were you the one who gave Zoya the Comtrex site?"
Malak's face turns red. "You heard about that, huh?"
"Heard what?" Asad demands.
"Nothing!" Zoya says, her voice too loud. "Nothing at all. Just boring work details."
"So this wasn't one of those dangerous situations you described to Ammi and Najma?" Asad's voice is as dry as stale toast.
Zoya, Malak, Dilshad and Najma all freeze, varying looks of guilt and alarm on their faces. Asad looks from one to another, his expression darkening.
"What are you keeping from me?" His voice is so low, it sounds like a growl.
"Najma, your glass is empty." Zoya pushes back her chair. "Let me refill it for you."
She reaches for the water jug but, in her haste, knocks it over. Malak, Dilshad and Najma jump up from the table and grab tissues to blot up the spill. Asad remains in his seat, his eyes glaring daggers at Malak.
"Zoya, your sleeve is all wet." Malak reaches out for her right arm.
He tries to wrap tissues around her shirt sleeve but Zoya jerks her arm free with a startled cry. Asad jumps out of his seat so fast the chair topples backwards.
"Don't touch her," he snarls.
Asad lunges towards Malak. Dilshad grabs his arm to restrain him. Asad stops but glares at Malak with seething resentment. Malak's eyes widen and he takes a step back, looking from Asad to Zoya then back to Asad.
"I...I'm fine." Zoya pulls her sleeve down to her knuckles to cover her scarred right arm.
"Zoya was injured a few weeks ago," Dilshad explains, her hold on Asad so tight his shirt wrinkles under her fingers. "She hasn't fully healed."
"Oh." Malak turns to Zoya. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. What happened?"
"Mr. Khan and I went to visit a factory in Guspind," Zoya begins.
"It was a car accident," Asad interrupts. "Don't touch her again."
"Zoya, why don't you take Malak out into the garden?" Dilshad suggests. "It's a lovely night. We'll clean up in here."
Zoya glances at Asad, who nearly vibrates with rage, and nods. Malak is silent as Zoya hurries him out to the garden. She shuts the glass doors but they can still see Asad glaring at them.
"Whew," Malak says. "That guy is intense."
Zoya brushes the hair out of her face. "You don't know the half of it."
"Are you okay?" he asks, concern rough in his voice.
"I'm fine," she assures him. "And don't worry about Mr. Khan. He's just high-strung."
"I'll say." Malak frowns as he looks back to a still-furious Asad watching them through the glass. "So what's with this accident? You didn't tell me about it."
"It was nothing." Zoya tugs him further from the door, over to the bench. "Tell me all about your new job. Which company do you work for?"
"My own." Malak's grin stretches from ear to ear. "I started my own business and already have a list of clients in India."
"Allah miya, that's wonderful. How did you do that?" Zoya bounces down onto the bench beside him.
"My partner is an Indian national. He has contacts all over the country. He came to me for help on setting up a web security company. I told him, not only could I help him set it up and run it, but I knew a brilliant hacker who just so happens to be staying in India currently."
Zoya's mouth drops open. "Malak, are you saying what I think you're saying?"
He nods. "Zoya, how would you like to work for us? We'll match your American salary, in U.S. dollars, plus a bonus for each successful site."
"Oh!" Zoya jumps up in her excitement. "Are you serious? A job? That means I can get a work visa and stay in India forever!"
"Forever?" Malak frowns. "You want to stay here permanently? Why?"
Immediately, the elation drains out of Zoya. She sits back down, her hands gripping the bench seat tightly. "Malak, there's a lot going on in my life right now. I can't talk about it but..." She ducks her head.
He puts his hand on hers. "It's okay, Zoya. You don't have to tell me. I didn't mean to pry." He picks up her hand and tugs on it to make her look at him. "Whatever you need, I'll do it. If you want me to apply for a work visa for you, I will. We'll do whatever's necessary to hire the best."
She tilts her head and smiles at him, her sadness already pushed aside. "It's going to take more than money and a promise to hire me."
He laughs. "I shouldn't have said I'd do whatever was necessary, should I? Okay, what do you want? A cappuccino machine? Hot pizza delivered every hour? A supply of replacement coffee pots?"
She pulls her hand free and crosses her arms. "How about a guarantee that I won't end up in federal custody again?"
His face turns very red. "Zoya, I've apologized for that a hundred times. I gave you the assignment senior management gave me. Comtiex and Comtrex are almost the same names. How was I supposed to know Comtrex was a government restricted website?"
Zoya laughs. "I know. It was an honest mistake. Lucky for you, the company lawyers had me released in a few hours. I was just giving you a hard time." She smiles sweetly. "It's a good negotiation tactic."
Malak covers his red face with his hands. "You're going to soak me with this contract, aren't you?"
"You said you wanted the best."
"I did." He puts his hands down and gives her a rueful grin. "So, you told your hosts about the whole fiasco, huh?"
Zoya waves her hand airily. "Only Phupee and Tamatar. I don't tell Mr. Khan anything that might upset him. He's tightly wound."
"I noticed." Malak studies her thoughtfully. "You seem to be really close to Mrs. Khan and her daughter. But you're so formal with her son. You don't use his name and he doesn't use yours."
"It depends on the situation." She shrugs. "He tries to be very correct around company. He thinks he's setting a good example."
"Good example?" Malak laughs. "He doesn't know you at all."
"Careful," she warns him. "You shouldn't tease me. I haven't agreed to your proposal."
"But you will because I'll give you anything you want." He pulls her in for a tight hug. "No one can resist you for long, Zoya."
Zoya's responding hug is interrupted by a heavy hand on her shoulder. She looks up to see Asad, his face expressionless except for his glittering eyes.
"Ammi wants to know if your friend would like coffee before he leaves." Asad says with heavy emphasis.
Malak gets up quickly. "No, thank you."
"No, Malak, you can't go yet. Phupee will have a million questions." Zoya tries to rise too, but Asad's hand is still on her shoulder. She frowns at him. "Mr. Khan, I can't get up."
Asad ignores her and gives Malak a hard stare. "Questions about what?"
"My new job!"
Asad frowns and his grip weakens. Zoya successfully shrugs off his hand. She bounces up from the bench and rushes for the door.
"I have to give Phupee and Tamatar all the details. Coffee will be ready in a jiffy." She pauses and looks back. "Mr. Khan, will you please entertain Malak for a few minutes?"
Asad opens his mouth to reply but she's already gone. He turns to Malak, who studies him with equal distrust. They are both quiet for a long moment.
"So, Asad." Malak gives him a bland smile. "I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, at least for now."
Asad stiffens. "Meaning?"
"Zoya just agreed to work for me."
"Doing what?"
"What she's so good at, hacking." Malak shrugs. "I'm surprised she's never given you a demonstration of her skills. She's amazing."
Asad's eyes narrow. "I've seen her break into websites."
Malak nods. "I'm not surprised. Once a hacker, always a hacker. Good to know she's keeping her skills sharp."
"She'll need sharp skills working for you." Asad crosses his arms. "I just heard about how she was arrested after you gave her the wrong website. She could have been in serious trouble if she hadn't followed company protocol and left a marker."
"She wouldn't have been in any trouble if she hadn't followed protocol," Malak snaps. "Zoya was in and out clean. No one would have known she hacked if she hadn't left a marker."
"She did the right thing, as she was supposed to. However, you were fired, weren't you?" Asad smirks.
"No, I wasn't." Malak crosses his arms, too. "The senior partner assigned that site. I just gave Zoya the work order. He was forced to leave, not me."
"What's to protect Ms. Farooqui from that situation again?" Asad demands.
"Ms. Farooqui?" Malak's eyebrows rise. "Wow, why so formal, Asad?"
"She's a guest in my home." Asad frowns. "I'm being respectful."
"Respectful, huh?" Malak looks at Asad with cold, assessing eyes. "I don't think so. You, like all Muslim men in India, don't respect women or want them to be independent. I expected Zoya to be wearing a burka and only speak when spoken to."
"You're a Muslim." Asad grits his teeth. "You should know that's not true. We protect women but we don't keep them under lock and key."
"Don't bother with the lies," Malak sneers. "I know the truth, Asad."
Asad leans in aggressively. "What do you think you know?"
Malak meets his gaze. "I know Zoya doesn't want to live in your house. That's partly why I chose Bhopal - to get her away from you."
"What?" Asad takes a step back, as though Malak's words are a physical blow.
Malak glares at him. "I know Zoya is unhappy here. I see it every time we talk. She's a little less enthusiastic and cheerful on each video chat. Seeing her is like watching a balloon deflate. What are you doing to her?"
"I'm not doing anything," Asad protests. "She's not unhappy!"
"Oh, come on," Malak snaps. "We both know the only reason Zoya is here is because her Jejju won't let her stay by herself. She didn't have other family or any friends to support her in India."
Asad steps forward so they are nearly nose to nose. "She has us."
"And now she has me." Malak doesn't back down. "She'll be out of your house by the end of the month."
"No, she won't." Asad's voice is as sharp as a blade. "She is not leaving us. She can't."
"She can soon. Once she starts earning her salary, she'll be able to afford a high-security building. She'll be safe there." Malak's eyes glitter. "I'll make sure of it because I'll live in the same building, to make sure Zoya is secure and can be happy again."
Asad clenches and unclenches his fists. "She's happy living with us."
"No, she's not," Malak snaps. "I've known Zoya for years. I know when she's happy and when she's not. She's the sweetest person I've ever met. She loves to laugh and to make other people laugh, too. Zoya lives to make other people happy and takes her happiness from theirs. Do you allow her to do that?"
"What are you talking about?" Asad demands. "Make sense!"
"I am making sense," Malak snarls. "You don't understand because you don't know Zoya. Her greatest fear in life is to be unwanted, to think she doesn't belong. She needs to make people happy. How can she do that when you constantly control her and insult her?"
Asad's blinks and it takes him a few seconds to regroup. "I don't do that."
Malak snorts. "In the hour I've been here you've told her she burned dinner, sighed half a dozen times like everything she does irritates you, yelled or glared at her every time she touched me and even physically restrained her when I hugged her."
Malak pauses. Asad opens and closes his mouth but says nothing.
"Worst of all is your temper," Malak continues. "You've snapped and glared at me from the second you opened the door. If this is how you treat a guest you've just met, how do you treat Zoya, who's been here for so long? She told me she has to keep secrets from you to avoid your temper. Why? What do you do that's worse than how you treat her in front of her friends?"
Asad freezes. Malak's body goes slack and his mouth drops open.
"Allah miya," he whispers. "Do you hit Zoya?"
Asad jerks back, his face suddenly ashen. Malak stares at him with a mixture of shock and horror.
"You do! You hit Zoya. I'll have you arrested." Malak shakes his head. "No, wait. It's not a crime to beat women in this backwards country, is it? No wonder Zoya says it's like living in the seventeenth century."
Asad takes a deep breath to regain control of himself. "You know nothing about me." His voice is flat and even. "And you know nothing about her life here. I protect her. She relies on me."
"She relies on you because she has no one else," Malak insists. "That's going to change now that I'm here. I won't ever hit her or allow anyone else to hurt her, either. And I'm going to take her away from this house."
"Try it and see what I do to you," Asad promises, his voice whisper-soft.
"Is it any worse than what you do to her?" Malak shots back.
"Ms. Farooqui is safe and happy in our home." Asad says, conviction in every word. "Anyone who tries to take her away will have to go through me. No one has ever gotten through me."
Asad's fierceness is so strong that Malak takes a step back. Asad matches it, aggression a palpable aura around him. Their tension is broken when Zoya opens the glass door.
"Coffee's ready," she calls out.
The two men continue to look at each other. Malak finally turns away, an affable smile softening his features back into boyishly charming warmth. He follows Zoya inside while Asad remains in the garden, his face set hard as stone.
"You're not going to take Zoya from me, Malak Hussein," Asad vows. "Other men have tried but none have succeeded. And none ever will."
Chapter 2: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/84538102
Epilogue: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/92010614
This story will be eleven chapters plus an epilogue and a sneak peek of my next QH fanfiction mystery - All the Right Moves. I'll post on Friday mornings, New York time. As well as being a stand-alone adventure (with mentions of my previous QH fanfiction For You I Will), this story is the setup for the next few mysteries, so pay attention to 'random' details! Anyone who has read my other work already knows that detailed, interlocking adventures are what I write best.
Feedback is nourishment to a writer's soul. Thank you to everyone who joined my buddy list, liked my posts or posted replies. I am so thrilled and grateful for all your wonderful support. Your encouragement keeps me writing, improving and thinking of new stories to entertain you. I appreciate it from the very bottom of my heart!
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