AsYa FF - Devotion [Updated Chapter 4B/p24](24/08) - Page 2

mindblowing...simply awesome

u have to continue this...so cant wait to read ur future updates

You wrote brilliantly!!! I absolutely loved reading Asad's POV (steamy bits included lol). It was masterfully done, how you combined all the elements of the show to date. Please say you'll continue to write this story because I think you're very talented. Cannot wait for the next chapter.

OMG!!! This was awesome! Flawless! 👏 You write so beautifully! Please continue ASAP!!!! 😊

Fabulous work!!👏 Plz plz pm me when u update!😃

Absolutely fantastic start Paridhi! Well done!

You have captured the true essence of Asad and I am excited to see what you come up with for Zoya :)

Im quite speechless right now. Wow! How did you manage to include all the events of the show so flawlessly in Asad's perspective?! It flowed so beautifully. Almost felt like I was reading a novel on QH though based exclusively on Asad and Zoya. Brilliantly put together.
You must must must continue! 👏

Beautiful! .. Your portrayal of Asad's thoughts and inner turmoil is just beautiful! Please continue with the scenes shown yesterdays. I'd like for this fan fic to continue with the real story, hand in hand. It would be awesome!

Good intro and summary of the show so far with an interesting perspective on Asad Ahmed Khan..will we need to wait weeks for more?

Dear Readers,

CHAPTER II: Despair

Usually, she didn't wake up until seven, but her nightmares had kept her up all night. Every time she closed her eyes, Zoya could only see, could only feel the blaze of a raging fire. It was all consuming, there was no way out. The terrified pleas for help rang in her ears, she could feel the stinging pain, and she could feel herself suffocating. The flames slithered towards her, but before she could succumb to their fiery depths, she was enveloped in strong arms and lifted away from the chaos, and that was when terrified, tearful eyes met his stormy whiskey coloured depths. She would know those eyes anywhere, and in despair as she reached out to hold onto him, he was pulled into the fire, leaving her behind.

"Asad!"

Her eyes shot open and crying, trembling she bolted into sitting. She could still feel the suffocating heat of the fire, the smoke in her face and more than anything, she could remember his touch. His arms carrying her to safety, before being swallowed up by the fire himself.

The image flashed before her eyes and her heart lurched in her chest. "No, "she hissed suddenly. She would never let that happen. Kicking away her covers, Zoya stood up and went into the bathroom, desperately needing to feel cool. She needed a cold shower and she needed to calm down after that awful nightmare.

That was two nightmares in the same week, but this one had been different. Never before in her nightmares, had she been rescued from the fire. Otherwise it was essentially the same nightmare that had plagued her for the last twenty years, but its effect hadn't lessened. It was still as frightening as the first. It was terrifying in any situation, but she was more than shaken up tonight. Tonight, she had been saved but her saviour had perished and as long as she breathed, she would never let that happen. She wasn't one for superstition, but still the vision had felt like an omen; a warning that she couldn't involve Asad any further in her search, for his own safety.

Only a few days ago, she had confided in him in a moment of weakness. Trusting Asad hadn't been difficult because he had proved time and time again that he would always be there for her and so she laid it all out in the open, about her nightmares, about her parents and her reason for being in India. There was a part of her that had longed for him to take her into his arms, and ease her pain away, to hold her and brush her tears aside and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But he hadn't done anything of the sort. Still, even in her own grief, Zoya could sense his compassion; she could feel his misery upon knowing her reality, because finally he could see what she had known for months now.

They were binary souls, bound by their pain, loneliness and longing.

And then when he had walked away from her without even saying a word, she had been crushed. She didn't want his pity, or his sympathy, but only his understanding and when he left her alone that night she had felt like her last glimmer of hope had just fused. She had been more hurt than angry and she made him aware of it as well, but she could understand why he had walked away from her. He had been upset, he hadn't known how to comfort her, and he hadn't known what to say. She forgave him, like she always did.

Zoya let the cold water fall against her skin, hiding the tears on her cheeks. She felt it trickling down her arms and over the burn marks. The scars had faded, but the wounds hadn't. Until this past week, it had been months since she had last had nightmares of that horrific fire and she had almost forgotten the reason behind her being in Bhopal. She had been so caught up in solving everyone's problems she had overlooked her own inner demons. Not that she regretted helping others, but she did realise now, that she had lost valuable time.

After a lot of struggles, she had managed to extend her visa for a further two months and now she barely had six weeks left. In this month and a half, she needed to find her father at all costs. There was nothing she wanted more than the closure. She needed to know who her father was, and his reasons for leaving her and her mother. It was an age old secret that needed to be revealed. She needed to know the skeletons in their closet, those mysterious circumstances that had deprived an innocent child of her family.

Ironically enough, she had lost a family in Bhopal, and coincidentally she had found another in the same place. Asad's family, who she now considered as her own. She had fallen in love with this beautiful family, they had all come to earn a place in her heart. In her doting Phuppi, she had found the mother she had always longed for and in bubbly Najmah, Zoya found the lovable, naughty younger sister. And in Asad - In Asad, Zoya had found her salvation. They had come to mean the world to her and as it stood, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving them now.

Having dried her hair, she felt restless and a bit useless too. The more she sat around, pondering over these thoughts, the more she would hurt and so she decided to leave the matter for the time being. She diligently made her way to the kitchen to help with the breakfast preparation and was pleased to see that Najmah was already at the counter, supervising the cook and singing softly as she stirred a pot on the stove.

Zoya smiled, it had been a while since she had seen Najmah so happy. But then again, everyone was in high spirits after last night's events. After searching non-stop for two days, she had incredibly been able to unearth an important, albeit partial truth about the incident at the doll factory. The elusive doll, in which the plotting of the conspiracy had been recorded, was found in their own mansion ' in the servant quarters.

From the garbled speech, Zoya and Asad (rather reluctantly) had managed to pick up significant clues that indicated that Rashid Khan had been forced under duress to light the fire at the factory, and that the prime purpose had been to hide a dead body. They hadn't been able identify the voices, but they were able to determine that indeed it had been an elaborate scheme to frame Asad's father.

It was circumstantial at best, but it had been enough to convince Asad that his father wasn't responsible for the murder and in that very instant he had made all the necessary phone calls to get his father out of prison. Within fifteen minutes, Rashid Ahmed Khan was a free man. Apparently, he had told the police he didn't know the conspirators, but had been contacted anonymously and blackmailed into carrying out their dirty work.

It wasn't entirely believable, but Asad had let it slide and the evidence had been handed over to the police who were investigating the matter on high priority, with extreme media censorship courtesy of Asad's imminent ties with the Police Commissioner and certain influential politicians and media tycoons. He had forced them to keep the entire investigation under wraps, if anyone from their families were harassed or involved by the media, there would be hell to pay.

Anyhow, in the span of half an hour, Asad's half-brother had called up, sobbing from the extent of his happiness and gratitude. Asad's mother had embraced her son, pressing fervent kisses all over his face in her joy while Najmah happily embraced her brother. Zoya watched from a distance as finally a fleeting smile burst forward on Asad's lips and for some unknowing reason, it made her heart almost burst with joy.

But she knew that the storm had not passed and that they were only living in a brief interlude, for Asad might have withdrawn the charges against his father due to his heightened sense of justice, but he hadn't forgiven him for anything. Not for his infidelity, not for abandoning them and certainly not for being a coward and hiding the truth behind the fire at the doll factory. It was understandable though, he had gone through hell to pick up the pieces of his broken family. He had almost lost everything in the process and it was all because of this man who called himself his father.

Her heart went out to him. She could bear everything he threw at her, his anger and his silences, but for some absurd reason, her heart could not bear the sight of his tears. Mr Khan was like an impregnable fortress. He was tough and strong and could defeat all the evil in the world single-handedly.

Mr Khan was perfect in Zoya's eyes.

***

At their immaculately timed breakfast, she eyed said perfectionist with great interest, watching keenly as he absently rearranged his cutlery so that it was absolutely straight and aligned at an impeccable margin on either side of his plate, before excusing himself from the dining table to receive a call.

'The dishes had to be sparkling, the silverware had to shine or else the Almighty would not dine', Zoya grinned inwardly at her lame humour and poor rhyming.

But it was somewhat true, as exaggerated as it sounded. Zoya had been observing Asad for more than six months now, and she liked to think that she knew him (and consequently his infallible routine) like the back of her hand. His entrances and exits were always on schedule; he always sat in the same seat at the dining table and drank from the same black mug.

He liked his coffee, extra hot, double shot and black, and suffered from a serious case of obsessive compulsive disorder - particularly where cleanliness and hygiene were concerned. He was almost always angry or annoyed at her, enjoyed being fawned over by his mother and darling younger sister and adored his wild younger half-brother to bits.

The past six months had taught her a lot about the man before her. She had learnt to see past his scolding, his disciplinarian moralities and she had reached the conclusion, that behind the cold, demanding man there existed a lost, heartbroken child who longed for his father's affection, who constantly strived to be the best so that nobody would ever have a reason to leave him again. Zoya had seen the vulnerable, the loving interior, carefully concealed by Asad's ruthless, tough as nails indifference. She had seen it and cherished it.

She had seen it all. She had faced his wrath, but she had also seen him shed tears for her. He pretended he was emotionless and detached when ironically he was, in principle, the polar opposite. Playing absently with her slice of toast, Zoya decided that Asad had to be one of the most emotionally complicated people she had ever met attached in the sense that he was fiercely possessive over things he loved. Perhaps it was an acquired skill, after all, he had learnt very early that one had to earn every shred of your living, and then fight every moment to hold onto it and boy, could he fight.

Zoya watched the dashing and debonair, construction mogul furtively from the corner of her eye. He was dressed sharply as usual, in a crisp black suit, not a hair out of place. On a conference call, he had yet to join them at the dining table and was pacing back and forth in the open foyer. His cool, commanding voice reverberated across the room as Asad, the loving, obedient son was replaced with Asad, the demanding boss, the ruthless businessman.

"Prasad, I don't care how you have to do it, but I want those shares at any cost. I don't care if he's not willing to sell. Convince him anyhow. You know how important those shares are. But whatever you do, do it discreetly."

There was something about him that was so raw, so primitive, which was ironic in itself because he was the most stylish, sophisticated man she had ever encountered. The way he walked, the way he talked, simply the way he presented himself even in his silence exuded so much power and confidence. He had the unique quality to command the attention of a room just by his presence, and when he did speak, one could not help but listen and it was this dominance, his unquestionable power that made him so intriguing, so enigmatic.

Sighing loudly, he ended his call and turned around to face her. As their eyes met, his penetrating gaze sent a flutter of heat in the pit of her stomach. She blinked away quickly and shook herself as he gave her a queer glance and sat down at the table.

"Good morning, Mr Khan! Coffee?" Zoya smiled brightly at him and was pleased when he nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

She placed his coffee to the side of his plate, making sure to check that everything was spotless and then retrieved her own mug of sweetened, flavoured coffee. She settled into her usual seat beside her Phuppi, while Najmah served Asad breakfast.

Breakfast was never a silent affair; at least Zoya endeavoured to make it as enthralling as possible, so they all had the best possible start to the day - with a bright smile on their face! And she would do anything to rattle Mr Khan. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction when he reacted to her teasing, maybe because he seemed so untouchable otherwise. If this was the only way to get him to notice her, then so be it.

"So, I've been thinking," Zoya began cheerfully before she was rather rudely interrupted.

"Will wonders ever cease? Miss Farooqui can think," Asad drawled, his face hidden by his newspaper as he skimmed through the business section.

"Allah Miyah, what's wrong with you Mr Khan?" Zoya groaned. "Won't you at least let me finish?" She glared at him and then continued. "As I was saying, Phuppi, I've been thinking that I should settle down in Bhopal."

"What?" Asad exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief. Whatever did she mean by settle down? Like marriage - no it couldn't be.

"That's a splendid idea Zoya! Zeenat and I were only discussing this last night." Dilshaad was as encouraging as ever. Zoya was like her own daughter, she would love for her to permanently settle down in Bhopal with a good husband and to start her own family. The wonderful child deserved it more than anyone else.

"Is there anyone we should know about?" Najmah asked cheekily. She loved weddings. It would be fabulous if Zoya was getting married.

"Relax, Najmah. I'm just kidding. You know there isn't anyone. After what happened last time, I'm going to be very careful in the future." Zoya remembered the Akram fiasco like it was yesterday. She didn't want a repeat of that incident ever. She had only wanted to see Asad's reaction by talking about getting married, and for a moment he had seemed a little irritated, but it was as quick as it was gone.

In the process of trying to get a rise out of Asad, Zoya had gotten her Phuppi thinking about her marriage and now she was determined to find a suitable match for her.

"Don't you worry about that Zoya dear. We know plenty of eligible bachelors in Bhopal. I'm sure we can set you up with someone you'd like!" Dilshaad then turned to Asad for his attention. "Asad, I believe it's our responsibility to find an appropriate suitor for Zoya."

"As you wish, Ammi, I'll have my secretary forward suitable matches by this afternoon." Asad replied laconically, but for some unknown reason he felt a twinge of annoyance at the thought of Zoya getting married. Why was it bothering him so much?

"Allah Miyah, what's wrong with you? It's my life; I will decide what I will do with it. I don't need you or your secretary to find me 'suitable' matches! I shudder to think, what or rather whom you would deem suitable." Zoya snapped at Asad. How could he take this news so lightly? And more importantly, why did it bother her so much that he seemed unbothered by her decision?

"Zoya, my child calm down. We just want you to have a look at potential matches, but of course nobody is forcing you to do anything against your wish and even then I want you to stay here as long as possible, so there isn't any rush for you to find a good man to settle down with. After all these are matters of the heart, they will decide our entire future ' marriage cannot be taken lightly." Dilshaad knew that from experience and even though her marriage hadn't worked out as she had hoped, she didn't regret it one bit because she had been blessed with two wonderful children and a lifetime full of memories. And that was enough for her.

"Why can't Zoya just marry Bhai-jaan?" Najmah asked impetuously, "that way Bhai gets an intelligent wife and Zoya doesn't even have to leave us! Oh, I would just love to have Zoya as my Bhabhi! Wouldn't it be fabulous, Ammi?!" She looked imploringly at them, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Her childish plea earned her a scold from her mother and a glare from her elder brother. Zoya ate faster to get away from the dining table as quick as possible, before she could turn red in embarrassment.

Najmah sighed, nobody ever took her seriously. Honestly, she thought they would be perfect for each other. Sure they argued a lot and were both incredibly hard-headed at times, but her Bhai needed a woman who would challenge him and Zoya needed a man who would keep her grounded. They balanced each other out, why didn't they see it? Shaking her head sadly, Najmah bid goodbye to everyone and left for college with a heavy heart. When were they going to see what was in front of them?

Unbeknownst to her, Najmah had just gotten three heads reeling with the possibilities of such an arrangement. Marrying Asad would give Zoya a valid reason to remain in Bhopal to search for her father. Marrying Zoya would make Asad's mother happy and he quite literally existed to please his mother. Najmah had unknowingly suggested a marriage of convenience and both Asad and Zoya were secretly assured by their self-interests.

"You know, that's not such a bad idea." Dilshaad voiced, once she was sure her daughter had left. She didn't want Najmah getting any more ideas, nor did she want her getting her hopes up too soon.

Both Asad and Zoya turned to stare at her.

"I'm just saying, it would be perfect if the two of you married each other. I really couldn't think of a better match, and to think, Zoya won't even have to move. Zoya will stay with us forever!" Dilshaad reasoned calmly though both Asad and Zoya could sense the undercurrent of enthusiasm to her tone.

Dilshaad was beginning to love the thought of having Zoya as her daughter-in-law, more and more by the second. As far as she was concerned, Zoya was already her daughter. She was a kind, selfless young woman who would be perfect for her Asad. Yes, they constantly fought but at the end of the day they made up in their own unique way and Dilshaad knew that the two already shared an emotional bond after everything they had been through together. In fact, Zoya already acted like his wife, paying particular attention to Asad's likes and dislikes, whether he had eaten his meals, or had gone to bed. She watched out for him, shared his pain, his problems and he trusted her with his emotional burdens - something that he didn't even share with his mother and sister.

"What are you saying Ammi?" Asad asked his mother incredulously. How could she even suggest such a thing?

"Mrs Zoya Asad Khan," Dilshaad tried and smiled brightly. "It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Ammi!" Asad exclaimed in horror. He was beyond embarrassed. How would he ever be able to look at Zoya again after this?

"Phuppi, please," Zoya pleaded, having turned red with embarrassment. Allah Miyah, why did it have to be her?

"Just think about it, won't you? For my sake." She implored and watched amused, as Asad hastily escaped the dining table muttering something about foreign delegates, while Zoya babbled nervously about calling her Aapi and Jeeju. The two fled the scene like they were being chased by an angry bull, but in opposite directions, being careful not to look at each other or come into any sort of contact.

Staring around at the empty table, Dilshaad groaned. "What will I do with these two?" Previous Chapter - Chapter I: Doubts

Next Chapter - Chapter III: Decisions