'Where the fu*k is the girl?', a man on the other end asked, his voice dangerously low.
'What girl, sir? I mean this place is full of girls, if you know what I mean', Giselda answered, trying to sound seductive.
Even Giselda couldn't get herself to seduce this man. He was horrifying.
'The girl that I handed over a year ago?!', the man yelled, making Giselda jump in her chair and hold the reciever far away from her ear.
'Sir that girl was bought for the night, but looks like our customer really liked that one', she replied cheeklily. 'The sidekick of his just called saying he wants to buy the girl for good. He promised us some real hot money, sir'.
'You bit*h!!! That girl is not for sale. I told you when I brought her in! You will NOT sell that girl, do you understand? She has to stay in there in all times!', the man barked.
'Bur sir, they promised us-', Giselda tried before being cut off.
'Even if they are willing to give you all the money in the world, that girl stays! Am I clear?', his voice turning dangerously low once again.
'Yes sir', Giselda replied, not telling him she had already sent that girl for she would nor see the daylight tommorrow if she did.
Giselda dropped on the chair once again, popping her bare legs on the table, and reaching for her cigar. She had to get back that girl and quick and from the deal she and the Khan had just made, it didn't look like he was willing to give her back that easily.
But she was Giselda. The queen of this side of the world. She will not let 'SIR' be dissapointed on her. She will get back the girl, even if she has to kill. Afterall, she was just not running the biggest prostitute centre of the city, but also was the daughter of the biggest underworld Don, the man who the whole city was afraid of, S.H. Vilody.
She would never risk her centre by doing anything that was illegal, for that was her own baby. But when it came to anytning related to the underworld, law was the last thing that could bother her, for she knew and was reminded time and again, who her father was.
Giselda took a long puff from her cigar, and releasing it out in the air, laughed the most menacing laugh anyone could witness.
**
It was 10 p.m and Ayaan had come back home agter a tedious day at work. Throwing away his jacket, and losening his tie, he let himself drop on the couch in the lounge. It was a long day filled with meetings where he had to represent Asad Ahmed Khan and the Industry, monitoring various sites and now he was exhausted.
He heard a clicking sound from behind him and as he turned, he saw the girl. Wearing a red salwar kameez, her hair let open, she made her way towards him, smiling.
'Hey, you're back', she simply stated.
She had thought about this long and well that if they were to stay together, its better they were on friends zone and not complete strangers. She would make friends with Ayaan, she had finally decided.
Ayaan just smiled and nodded, making Zoya less uncomfortable.
'Can I sit down with you?', she asked.
'Ofcourse, come sit please', Ayaan replied shifting himself to the side, making room for her on the couch.
'Y-your boss came by', Zoya said when she sat down, her eyes downcast.
Ayaan sensed her discomfort almost instantly. He saw her fidgeting fingers and realised she was still not okay taking about him.
'Why did he?', he asked.
'He needed some file he said', she replied, still counting the different types of patterns on the floor.
'Oh what file?', Ayaan asked suddenly turning into his best Man-Friday self, as he liked to refer to it as.
'I don't know', Zoya replied, mentally slapping herself for starting the conversation if she was of no help anyway.
'Its okay, forget it, nevermind', Ayaan said wanting to change the subject. 'Did you have the salad?'
'Oh yeah, it was delicious. Really', Zoya replied, her head bouncing back up again, a big smile adorning her face.
Ayaan was amazed. How could a girl be so uncmfortable and gloomy and so cheerful the very next? She was full of surprises, he thought.
'My name's Zoya by the way', Zoya said giggling remembering his letter. 'Zoya Farooqui'.
Ayaan smiled.
'Did you have your dinner?', he asked.
Zoya remembered the card Asad had given her. She stood up and walked back to her room.
Ayaan kept repeating the conversation in his mind trying to see if he had said anything to offend her in anyway, when he saw her coming back and once again seating her self on the couch, next to him.
'Take this', she said moving her hand forward, which held a card.
'How did you get this?', Ayaan asked taking the card from her and turning it around to look at it.
'He gave it. But I can't accept this. Not from him, ever', Zoya said with a frown. 'So please give it back to him'.
Asad Ahmed Khan had given her this card? The man who never even cared about giving his employees bonuses gave her his own room service card? Ever since this girl came around, so much had changed, he observed.
'So you still haven't had dinner?', he asked. 'I mean was the money I left less? Did they finish as you bought your clothes?'
Zoya remembered the package. She wondered how he knew her size, the clothes had fit her perfectly. And they were beautiful too. She found herself smiling remembering how she had tried on all of the clothes. She wouldn't have accepted them but she needed them. She could pay him back later.
'Oh your money's on the coffee table', Zoya replied. 'Asad Ahmed Khan bought these clothes', she replied avoiding his gaze.
Saying Ayaan was shocked would be an understatement. What in the world is happening? Who is this girl? Who is Asad Ahmed Khan?, he found himself asking after having served him many years.
Ayaan stood uo and reqched for his jacket and the keys from the keystand, confusing Zoya.
'Where are you going?', she asked him.
'Come on, lets go out for dinner', he replied smiling.
It had been years since anyone had taken her for dinner. It had been years since she had had dinner from a restaurant or a hotel. After that fateful night, all her luxuries has finished and she had faced the worst circumstances. The worst ever years.
She composed herself before the tears in her eyes would fall. Now she was free. And she could finally have dinner in a hotel. She couldn't thank Allah enough. She would live her life now, forgetting every moment of the misery she had faced in the past years.
Getting up from the couch, she walked out the apartment with Ayaan, promising herseld to forget everything and everyone in her past life. Every pain she had gone through, let it be physical or emotional, every wrath she had faced, every person she had lost. She would start a new life, make new friends, get a job, get a home for herseld, and maybe someday, find a man and fall in love and get married and have kids.
And Ayaan showed her the first step. Making new friends. Life had made her strong, and she would use this as her advantage, she decided.
**
'Noor, why did we have to come to Bhopal all the way from Mumbai?', Najma asked her bestfriend, as they sat on the backseat of her father's BMW, which had picked them up from the airport.
'Because, Mahinder Singh Dhoni is in town, baby', Noor announced for the umpteenth time that day.
'Yes and what makes you think you will get to meet him here?', Najma asked rolling her eyes at her bestfriend.
'I will, you shall see!', Noor replied, applying her lip gloss.
'And why do I have to come along?', Najma asked, not wanting to be here when her Abbu had just had a bad day.
'Because One, you are my best friend. And two, your horroscope said you shall meet the man of your dreams today', Noor replied excitedly.
Throwing her hands in the air frustrated, Najma gave Noor one of her glares.
'M.S Dhoni is YOUR dream guy, Noor. Not mine!'
'Stop lying, you have his pictures all over your room!'
'Thats because YOU put them all over my room!', Najma said exasperated.
'Well stop your whining and enjoy, pretty lady', Noor said hugging her bestfriend knowing it was a tough day on her.
And frankly, Noor had only brought her here to get her away from the place which made her feel unwanted. She wanted to divert her bestfriend's mind, and Mahinder Singh Dhoni just helped her cause.
**
Finally the day he dreaded every year was near its end, Asad thought pouring himself a glass of whine. It was weird how his life had suddenly become more depressing if that was possible. Because of that girl.
Just a day since he had met her and he was already going crazy. He desperately wanted to remove the fear in her eyes because if him. And unless he did that, he couldn't remain sane, he concluded.
He had just started thinking about her honey brown orbs that turned so big when she saw him, when his phone rang.
Fishing it out of his pocket, he looked at the caller ID. Ayaan.
'What?', he demanded, picking up the call.
'Sir, Zoya has given the card back to me without using it and asked me to give it back to you', Ayaan said excusing himself from Zoya for a while.
'Who's Zo-', Asad began to ask when he realised who Ayaan was talking about.
Zoya. Meaning life. So that was her name. Zoya. It sounded so perfect. Like a free bird in the sky which flew wherever it wanted to go, which spread an unsaid, unseen illusion all over the sky that effected all of the birds in the sky, all the creatures that flew.
'Sir?', Ayaan's voice broke Asad's chain of thoughts.
'Yeah?', he said absent mindedly.
'The card. She gave it back', Ayaan repeated.
'Okay. I'l take it from you tommorrow', Asad said before hanging up.
Asad had a flashback as soon as he hung the phone.
'Ammi, am I going to have a brother?', Asad asked his mother for the umpteenth time ever since he had found out the big belly meant a baby.
'I don't know beta', his mother would reply him sadly.
'What's his name?', he asked everyday.
'I don't know', his mother would once again reply, sadly.
'Ammi, you don't want a boy?', Asad would say seeing the frown on his mother's face. 'Okay, you can have a girl'.
His mother would always smile when she heard him say this. Giving him a peck on his cheeks, she would often side hug him.
'What's her name?', he would ask.
'Zoya', she would say, not wanting to break his heart.
'What does that mean, Ammi?'
'Life. Just like a bird. Soaring up in the sky spreading its happiness to all the other birds', she would say.
Asad would just clap and hug his mother.
Asad knew he had a sister somewhere in the world. Who was not named Zoya. But he found this Zoya. Life, his mother had said. Then why did her eyes just showed fear and sadness and nothing but pain? His mother had said happiness. Then why did he feel her pain was just like his own and of the same or even greater intensity? This girl was something different.
Asad had known many girls, slept with many, but he never thought about them. But this girl made him think about her. She invaded his thoughts. Was it because he was indebted to her scaring her like that? Was it because she was indebted to him for saving her? What was it?
He threw the wine down his throat and dropped himself on his couch.
Another call made him groan.
'What?', he barked into the phone, picking it up.
'We refuse your offer. We want the girl back', came the menacing voice of a woman.
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