FF: Web of Lies - COMPLETED on p80 - Page 54

Oh my God!! Two words... YOU'RE AMAZING!!! I absolutely loved this!! So, is this the end, i mean it's brilliant but *fakes a sad face* is this really the end? I loved this story, it was great... i'm going to miss it, but still i'm looking forward to the reading the rest of the stories you have planned, thank you sooo much!! x

Very well written and awesome update

Brilliant finale to one of my favorite stories on this forum! I am going to really miss this one! 😭 But then will watch out for the epilogue and the next story!

Awesome updates :-)
I loved AsYa moments :D especially when Asad gave his shirt to Zoya :P
I really hate Dev, Tej and Surita they've really done wrong
I'm happy Asad fought them :D
I hope Malak gets well soon

Res...

you are updating today, right????

EPILOGUE

Zoya and Asad walk into the Khan Villa. It is quiet, still and empty. Asad latches the door and leans back against it, eyes narrowed as he watches Zoya.

She is uncharacteristically subdued and restrained. The side of her face is bruised and she rubs her weak arm but is otherwise fine. She puts her shoulder bag onto the sofa and sighs heavily.

"Are you okay, Ms. Farooqui?" Asad asks quietly, coming into the room.

His mouth is swollen and he has some minor cuts. He removes his jacket with more care than usual but shows no other signs of his brawl with Tej.

"Well, given that I'm the last man standing, I'm fine." Her voice is light but she keeps her back to him.

"Last man standing?" Asad frowns. "What does that mean?"

"Malak is wearing a leg brace and having his kidneys flushed." Her voice sharpens. "Mr. Nair is under observation overnight because of his severe concussion. My remaining coworkers are leg-shackled to their hospital beds while they have their broken bones reset." She pulls her sore arm closer to herself. "All I have are a few bruises."

Asad shakes his head. "You wouldn't even have those if Malak has been a little less eager to show off and a little more careful about investigating his own staff."

She whirls to face him, color flushing into her face. "Don't you dare blame Malak, Mr. Khan! How was he supposed to know that Mr. Nair's own nephew would turn on him? How can anyone check for such a thing?"

Asad crosses his arms. "He manages a computer security company. He could have run a background check on them."

"And discovered what?" she demands. "That Surita knows about computers? What does that say about her character? If you're only judging by what you see on paper, I'm a bigger risk than Surita or even Dev and Tej."

"You?" Asad stares at her.

"Yes, Mr. Khan, me. I'm a Computer Engineer, I'm a hacker and I've been arrested in two countries." She pats her chest for emphasis. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, I didn't say that." Asad's frown deepens. "I merely said that Malak should have been more selective about the people he hired."

"He only hired me, Mr. Khan." She puts her good hand on her hip. "He did so because he knows me and he knows I'm good at what I do. He thought he was doing me a favor."

"Some favor," Asad snaps. "He nearly got you both killed. And the idiot thought he could do a better job of protecting you than I could."

"Protecting me?" Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What are you talking about? How was Malak supposed to know what would happened? He was only trying to help me."

"By trying to take you out of our house?" Asad hisses. "Out of our family?"

"Malak wasn't doing that," she protests. "He gave me a job because he knew I could do the work."

"No, he gave you a job because he thought he was saving you from a seventeenth century prison." Asad's posture is rigid with control.

Zoya's mouth puckers and her forehead wrinkle. Finally she shakes her head, hands held palms up to show her confusion. Asad speaks through gritted teeth.

"The first night he was here, he said he was going to take you away from us." His voice is thick with anger. "He talked about you moving into some high-security building, as though that would be better for you than staying here."

Zoya's features relax and she nods understandingly. "Ahh. So that's why you've been so angry with Malak. Don't worry, Mr. Khan. We talked about that." She smiles at him. "Malak knows I'm not leaving this house."

Some of the stiffness eases out of Asad's posture. He uncrosses his arms and steps closer to her. "Are you sure?" He studies her intently. "He said you were unhappy."

She opens her mouth then hesitates. He stiffens again, waiting for her reply.

"Yes, there have been times I haven't been happy here," she finally admits. "Once in a while, I talked to Malak after those times. I didn't tell him anything but I think he knew. As my friend, he worried about me."

Asad turns away and closes his eyes, as though trying to shut out her words. His shoulders are straight and set, prepared to hear the worst. She lays her hand lightly on his arm and hurriedly begins speaking again.

"But I've also had wonderful times in this house, too. I love being with Phupee and Najma and..." she breaks off abruptly, taking her hand off his arm.

"And?" He opens his eyes but doesn't turn back.

She stays silent so long he's forced to look at her. She ducks her head, allowing her hair to fall forward and hide her face. He steps closer to her. Now they're less than an arm's length apart. He tilts his head to see her expression.

"And?" he prompts again.

"And my Mr. Khan." She lifts her shoulder in a negligent shrug. "I don't know what I would do without my Mr. Khan."

She speaks lightly but gives him a shy version of her dimple-revealing smile. His whole body relaxes, as though the weight of the world has fallen off his shoulders. Their gazes lock and their surroundings slip away.

He takes the last step that separates them, so close that their breaths mingle. Her smile fades but her eyes soften, inviting him to lower his head until their foreheads almost touch. He gently brushes the hair away from her temple, careful not to irritate the bruised, reddened skin.

"Ms. Farooqui, I..." He stops and swallows hard. "I..."

She raises her eyebrows. "Yes, Mr. Khan?"

He takes a deep breath and tries again. "I..."

The front door crashes open behind him. Asad and Zoya turn to see who's there. Dilshad rushes in with Najma only steps behind her. Both look disheveled and upset, their hair flying about their faces, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks flushed with color and perspiration.

"Asad, Zoya, are you alright?" Dilshad demands. Her lips are bare and swollen where she's bitten off her lipstick.

"Ammi, Tamatar, what happened to you?" Asad hurries to them. "You look as if you've run all the way home."

"If the traffic had been any worse, we would have." Najma throws herself into Asad's arms. "We were so worried about you!"

Asad wraps his arms around his sister and looks to his mother for an explanation. Dilshad takes a deep breath, calming herself. Her breathing is as harsh and erratic as Najma's.

"Us?" Zoya comes to join them. "Why were you worried about us?" She puts her hand comfortingly on Dilshad's shoulder.

"The police commissioner's wife is volunteering at the orphanage." Dilshad drags Zoya into her arms. "She told us there had been a shootout at your office and everyone had been transported to the hospital with serious injuries!"

"Bhaijaan, why didn't you answer your phone?" Najma's eyes overflow with tears. "We called you and Zoya over and over again, but you never answered!"

Asad looks confused for a few seconds then understanding dawns in his face. He presses his cheek to Najma's head and hugs her to him.

"I'm sorry, Tamatar." He grinds his teeth. "I must have broken my phone in the fight."

"Fight? What fight?" Dilshad's voice rises. "First you were in a shootout and then you were in a fight?"

Asad presses Najma's head against his chest and reaches for Dilshad with his other hand. Dilshad keeps one arm around Zoya and wraps the other around Asad and Najma, effectively pulling them all together for a group hug. Najma, in the center of their embrace, continues to cry.

"I'm sorry, too." Zoya wipes at Najma's tears. "The police have my phone but you can see we're both fine."

"What happened?" Najma sobs.

"And why does it always happen to you two?" Dilshad adds, equally distraught.

Zoya and Asad stare at each other, their gazes locked, mouths hanging open. Najma and Dilshad look between them.

"Why does it always happen to us?" Asad finally asks.

They all turn to Zoya. Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. She opens and closes her mouth several times but no words emerge. Finally, she gives up and shakes her head.

For one of the rare times in her life, Zoya Farooqui is absolutely speechless.

THE END

A sneak peek of ALL THE RIGHT MOVES:

Asad sees the fine china and freshly polished silverware laid out on the side table and sighs. "More visitors?"

"Yes. Ammi said that someone very important is coming over this afternoon." Najma smoothes down the front of her purple and blue silk kameez salwar. She turns to Zoya. "Is this okay? Does it make me look fat?"

"You look gorgeous," Zoya says firmly. "The color is perfect for you."

She tugs on the hem of her own deep pink kurti. "Who's coming over this time? Haven't we already entertained every important hostess in town?"

"And when will they stop bothering us?" Asad crosses his arms and glares at the neatly made-up coffee table.

"Not until Rohan Saxena leaves Bhopal," Zoya responds cheerfully. "Everyone's trying to see him and get tickets for his events. They know Phupee has direct access to him."

"But even Ammi can't do anything now." Najma studies the tea service and shifts a cup slightly to the left. "Every single event is booked solid. Even seats at his practice sessions at the Cricket Club are sold out."

"He only arrived last night and already his hotel is completely mobbed." Zoya brings over a platter of sweets. "I watched it on the news this morning. So many people surrounded his car he couldn't even get it out of the driveway. His bodyguards finally had to take him back inside and smuggle him out with the dirty laundry!"

Najma giggles. "That trick won't work again. His fans will be watching every door and every vehicle that comes and goes from his hotel. And they scream all the time. How will he get any rest?"

"Never mind him, what about us?" Asad snaps. "He chose his own career and lifestyle. We didn't choose to have every society-hungry, star-struck person in Bhopal show up on our doorstep trying to get a chance at him."

"Regardless, they keep coming." Zoya nips a pastry from the tray. "We can't turn them away."

"Why not?" Asad demands.

"It's not polite, Mr. Khan." She breaks the pastry in half and offers it to Najma. "Phupee says we should always treat people with kindness and generosity not because they deserve it but because we do."

Najma reaches for the pastry then makes a face and declines. "I can't. I started my new diet today."

Asad plucks the pastry piece from Zoya and pops it into his mouth.

"Hey!" she protests. "That was mine."

"What were you saying about being kind and generous?" He deliberately takes the other half and eats it, too.

"Since when did you start eating sweets?" she demands.

"Since I started supporting all of Bhopal's afternoon tea habit." He glares at the tea service again. "It's bad enough that we have to tolerate their false friendships. Why do I have to pay for the torture, too?"

"Phupee is a generous and gracious person." Zoya sniffs. "Too bad that good nature only appears on the female side of the family."

Asad stands very close to her. "I haven't kicked you out yet, have I?"

She gasps and puts her hands on her hips but the front door unlatching distracts her. She and Najma turn towards the door, plastering welcoming smiles on their faces. Asad hurries to his room.

"Tell me when they leave," he mutters from his door.

"Hello, Ammi," Najma calls out. "How was --- ahh."

Zoya, who is standing between Najma and Asad, also gasps.

"Allah miya," she breaths. "I...I..."

She breaks off, unable to say more. Her mouth stays open and her eyes glaze over. Asad frowns and comes back into the living area.

"Who's here?" he asks.

Zoya and Najma ignore him, both transfixed by the handsome hunk standing beside Dilshad. He's tall and well-built, his face and body lean and perfectly proportioned, like an ancient Greek statue come to life. His eyes are such a light blue they're almost grey and his skin has the color and glow of honey melting in the sun.

"Hello." He smiles, revealing perfect, even, sparkling white teeth.

Zoya and Najma suck in their breaths on audible gasps, still dumbstruck.

"Asad, this is Rohan Saxena." Dilshad wave him closer. "Rohan, this is my son, Asad."

Both men move in the middle of the living room, arms outstretched.

"I'm very pleased to meet you." Rohan shakes Asad's hand with a firm but comfortable grip. "I've heard so many good things about you."

"Welcome to Bhopal." Asad returns the handshake in kind.

"Welcome back," Dilshad corrects. "Rohan used to live here as a child."

Rohan nods and steps back, closer to Dilshad. "I was raised at the orphanage Dilshad-ji supports. I'm so pleased she invited me to host the annual charity dinner."

"Rohan actually helps out a great deal," Dilshad says, smiling fondly at him. "He sends the children clothes and sports equipment, mails them birthday cards and does a monthly video chat. He even listens to our regular meetings to keep up with events at the orphanage."

Rohan colors slightly, highlighting his already perfect high cheekbones and sparkling eyes. "I remember what it was like when I was growing up, how much I appreciated those things. I'm grateful to be in a position where I can give back to the home that sheltered and raised me."

Zoya and Najma sigh deeply but otherwise remain mute.

Dilshad nods. "And here are Najma and Zoya. I told you all about them."

Rohan smiles at them. Thoughtfully, his keeps the wattage of his smile turned down low so he doesn't blind them with its brilliance.

"H...hello," Zoya manages to stutter.

Najma can only nod. Asad looks at them, mouth tight, and rubs his forehead. Dilshad also look at them with concern. Finally she turns back to Asad.

"Asad, Rohan can't return to his hotel," she says. "The mob scene there is so bad the police recommend he make alternative arrangements."

Asad pulls out his cell phone. "Do you want me to book him a room at another hotel, Ammi?"

"No, that won't work." Dilshad shakes her head. "The same situation will happen at the next hotel. Rohan has to stay somewhere secret."

Asad puts his cell phone away very slowly. "And what secret place do you have in mind?"

Dilshad gives him a brilliant smile. "Here, of course!"

Author's Notes: As always, all mistakes are mine and made accidentally. These stories are not intended to hurt anyone's feelings, culture or beliefs. HUGE, endless thanks go out to my wonderful beta readers! This story would have been awful without you. Yes, TRULY! You kept me focused, on track and put up with my endless questions and revisions. You are great blessings and I appreciate all the time and effort you put into making this story successful.

This story is over but don't worry! The next two stories in my Zoya/Asad adventures - ALL THE RIGHT MOVES and GHOST IN THE MACHINE - are more than sequels. They are intertwined with WEB OF LIES. The seeds for both adventures have been planted and the stories have already begun. Did you notice the clues?

A Plea from Paly: Thank you so much to all the readers for your wonderful comments and feedback. You have really helped me rebuild my confidence as a writer In fact, I've decided to write a new original-character novel! Would you like to help me? All you have to do is what you do now - read, respond and ask questions. If you're interested, please visit this link for details:

http://palygirl.livejournal.com/

R
*Unres*
So it ended. Why all good things have to end. I loved when she said My Mr. Khan. I cant imagine what he wanted to say. If it was so difficult for him to say that, it could mean somrthing.
Waiting eagerly for next one :)

Loved this story! Can't wait for all the right moves!!!!!