New AsYa SS: 'Enthralled by Mr. Khan' *DISCONTINUED*

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amruta04

@amruta04

Rocker

+ 2

Posted: 11 years ago

#31

interesting concept Annie 😊
looking forward to the update...
do continue soon

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RAJ

@RAJLUVRIYA

Rocker

Posted: 11 years ago

#32

Nice one. But i m super confuse. Lets wait for update make things clear. Thanks for pm. Update soon

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Mishti

@.LilGreenRobot.

Sparkler

+ 5

Posted: 11 years ago

#33

Here's the first part. It's quite long and the first half is a little bit boring before they meet but do keep on reading because it get's interesting when they meet. I promise 😆

Sorry to have kept you waiting for a long time. Happy reading 😃

Chapter 1

Zoya Farooqui pushed aside the folder in front of her and glanced at her watch. For the fourth time. She had now been kept waiting in this conference room for twenty-five minutes. As a lawyer, she knew what this was about. Actually, even if she hadn't been a lawyer she would have known what this was about. It was about intimidation. Intimidation by a juggernaut of a company that was determined to get its own way.

She stood up, flexed her muscles and strolled over to the floor-to-ceiling panes of glass that overlooked the teeming streets of the city. At this time of year, London was swarming with tourists. From way up here, they appeared to be small little stick figures, but she knew if she went down she would join foreigners from every corner of the globe. You couldn't escape them. You couldn't escape the noise, the crowds and bustle although here, in the opulent surroundings of AAK Holdings, you could be forgiven for thinking that you were a million miles away from all that. It was deathly quiet.

Yet another intimidation tactic, she thought resentfully. She had seen a lot in the past few years since she had been a practicing lawyer, but the antics of this company took some beating.

She thought back to meeting number one, when they had imagined that buying up the women's shelter would be a walk in the park. For meeting number one, they had sent their junior lawyer, Alex Cole, who had become embroiled in a tangle of logistics with which he had patently been unable to cope.

For meeting number two, they had dispatched a couple of more experienced guys. Bruce Robins and Tom Evans had come prepared, but so had she. Out of all the cases in which she specialised, the women's shelter was dearest to her heart. If they had come prepared to wipe it out from under her feet then she too had upped the stakes, pulling out obscure precursors and covenants that had sent them away scratching their heads and promising that they would be back.

Zoya had no doubt that they would. The shelter sat on prime land in West London, land that could any speculator a great deal of money. She knew, through contracts, that it had been targeted for development by the AAK group. An ambitious transformation; from a women's shelter to an exclusive, designer shopping mall for the rich and famous.

Staring down as the minutes of the clock ticked past and no one appeared, she knew that there was a real possibility that she would have to let this one go, admit defeat. Yet for so many reasons she refused to let herself think that way.

After Bruce and Tom, her next meeting, this time with her boss by her side, had been with their top guy. Michael had cleverly countered every single magic act that had produced from their rapidly shrinking hat. He had produced by-laws, exemptions and clauses that she knew had been designed to have them running back to the drawing board. Now, alone in the conference room, Zoya knew that this was her last chance.

Once again, she glanced at her watch before moving back to her seat at the enormous table. Lord only knew who they would send this time to take her on. Whoever they sent this time, she had one more trick u her sleeve. She wasn't going to give up without fighting. The memory of giving up without fighting was too embedded in her consciousness for her to ever go down that road again. She had dragged herself away from a dark place where any kind of fighting had never been a good idea and she wasn't about to abandon any of the grit and determination that had got her where she was now.

Banishing all thoughts of a past that would cripple her if she gave it a chance, Zoya Farooqui returned her attention to the file in front of her and the list of names and numbers she had jotted down as her final attempt to win her case.

"Shall I tell Ms Farooqui how long she might be expected to wait?"

Asad Ahmed Khan glanced up at his secretary who stared back at him with gimlet-eyed steeliness. She had announced Zoya Farooqui's arrival half an hour ago, longer, and had already reminded him once that the woman was waiting for him in the conference room. From anyone else, a second reminder would have been unthinkable. Tanveer Qureshi, however, had been with him for five years and it had been clear from the start that tiptoeing around him wasn't going to be on the cards. She was a few years older than him but considered him a brother, and if she had ever tiptoed around any of her younger brothers, then she certainly wasn't going to tiptoe around anyone. Asad Ahmed Khan included. He had hired her on the spot.

"You can't keep her waiting for ever. It's rude."

"But then," Asad countered drily, "you've been with me long enough to know that I'm rude." But he stood up and grabbed his jacket from where he had earlier flung it, on the long, low black leather sofa that occupied one side of the office.

In the concrete jungle where fortunes were made and lost in the toss of a coin, and where the clever man knew how to watch his back because the knives were never far away, Asad Ahmed Khan, at the tender age of thirty-two, ranked as one of the influential pack leaders.

Well, you didn't get to that glorious position by being soft and tender hearted. Asad understood that. He was feared and respected by his employees. He treated them fairly; more than fairly. Indeed they were amongst the highest paid across the board in the city. In return, the line they tread was the line he marked. If he wanted something done, he expects it to be done instantaneously. He snapped his fingers and they jumped to immediate attention.

So he was frankly a little put out that this team of lawyers had, so far, singularly failed in nailing the deal with the women's shelter. He couldn't imagine that it was anything but routine. He had the money to buy them out and so he would. Why then, four months down the line, was he having to step in and do their job for them?

He had elaborate plans to redevelop the extensive land the place was built on. His price was more than what they could imagine. Any fool should have been able to go in, negotiate and come out with the papers signed, sealed and delivered. Instead, in a day which was compromised of back-to-back meetings, he was having to waste time with a two-bit lawyer who had set up camp on the moral high ground somewhere and was refusing to budge. Did he really need to take valuable time out to demolish her? Because demolishing her was something he would certainly do.

He issued out a string of orders as he left his office as he was about to shut the door behind him.

"And don't forget how food I am at sacking people! So I'd better not find out you've forgotten any of what I've just told you! Because I don't see your trusty notepad anywhere..." He grinned and shut the door smartly behind him before his secretary could tell him anything.

He was carrying nothing, because as far as he was concerned, he didn't need to. He had been briefed on the woman's arguments. He didn't anticipate needing to strong arm her at all into giving up. He had managed to unearth a couple of covenants barely visible to the naked eye that would challenge any argument she could put forward. Additionally, she had now been waiting for over forty-five minutes in a conference room that had been deliberately stripped bare of anything that could be seen as homely, comforting, soothing or in any way, shape or form, designed to put someone at ease.

He briefly contemplated summoning those losers who had not been able to do their job so that they could witness firsthand how to do it, but decided against it. One on one. Over and done with in fifteen minutes. Just in time for his next conference call from Hong Kong.

Having had plenty of time to mull over the intimidation tactics, Zoya was standing by the window waiting for a team of lawyers. In bare feet, she was five eleven. In heels as she was now, she would tower over her opponents. The last one had barely reached her shoulders. Maybe, as a last resort, she could stare them down into submission. She was gazing out of the window when she heard the door to the conference room opening behind her and she took her time turning around. If they could keep her waiting in a room that had all the personality of a prison cell, then she could take her time jumping to attention.

But it wasn't a team of lawyers. It wasn't Alex Cole, Bruce Robins or Tom Evans.

She looked at the man standing by the door and she felt the colour drain from her face. She found that she couldn't move from her position by the window. Her legs were giving up on her. Her heart was beating erratically she felt on the verge of a panic attack. Or, at the very least, an undignified fainting spell.

"You!" This wasn't the strong, steady voice of the self-confident twenty-eight year old woman she had become.

"Well, well, well..." Asad was as shocked as she was but was much more composed at concealing his response and much faster at recovering.

And yet, as he moved slowly towards her, he was finding it almost impossible to believe his eyes. At the speed of light, he travelled back in time, back to eight years ago, back the gloriously beautiful girl who had occupied his every waking hour. She had changed, yet she hadn't. Gone was the waist long hair, the jeans and sweater. In its place, the woman standing in front of him, looking as though she had seen a ghost was impeccably groomed. Her hair was the same blend of rich caramel and chestnut; her eyes were as hazel and feline as he remembered.

"Layla Farooqui..." He strolled towards her, with one hand in his trouser pocket. "Should I have clocked the surname? Maybe I would have if it hadn't been preceded by Zoya..." He was standing right in front of her now. She looked as though she was about to pass out. He hoped she wouldn't expect him to catch her if she fell.

"Asad... No one said... I wasn't expecting..."

"So I see." His smile was cold and devoid of humour. Of their own accord, his eyes travelled to her finger. No wedding ring. Not that it said very much, all things considered.

"Will you be here on your own, or can I expect the rest of your team?" Zoya tried desperately to regain some of her shattered composure but she couldn't. She was driven to stare at the harsh, sinfully sexy contours of a face that had crept into her head far too many times to count. He was as beautiful as she remembered if not better if that was even possible. At twenty-four, he had been sexy as hell but still with the imprint of youth. Now he was a man, thirty-two years sexy to be precise, there was nothing warm or open in his face. She was staring at a stranger, someone who hated her and who was making no attempt to mask his hatred.

"Just me. Cosy, as it turns out. Don't you think? So many years since we last saw one another, Layla... or Zoya, or whoever the hell you really are."

"Zoya. My name is Zoya. It always was."

"So the fictitious name was purely for my benefit. Of course, it makes sense, given the circumstances at the time..."

"Layla was my mother's name. If you don't mind, I think I'll sit." She tottered over to the chair and collapsed on it. The stack of files in front her, her briefcase, her laptop, they were all reminders of why she was in this conference room in the first place, but for the life of her she couldn't focus on them. Her thoughts were all over the place.

"So, shall we play a little catch-up, Layla? Sorry... Zoya? A little polite conversation about what we've been doing for the past eight years?" Asad perched on the edge of the sprawling conference table and stared down at her. The only woman he had wasted time chasing, only to be left frustrated when she'd failed to fall into his arms. For that reason alone, she occupied a unique spot in his life. Add all the other reasons and she was in a league of her own.

"I'd rather not."

"I bet. In your shoes, I'd plead the fifth as well."

"Asad, I know what you must think of me, but""

"I really don't need to hear any sob stories, Layla."

"Stop calling me that. My name is Zoya."

"So you became a lawyer after all that. Hats off to you - although, thinking about it, you did prove you were the sort of girl who would get what she wanted whatever the cost..."

Zoya's eyes flickered up to him. The expression on his face sent the chill of fear racing up and down her spine, yet how could she blame him? Their story had been brief and so full of things that had to be hidden that it was hardly surprising.

"And I notice that there's no wedding ring on your finger," he continued in the same mildly speculative voice that wouldn't have fooled an idiot. "Did you dispose of the miserable husband in your ever-onwards and upwards climb?"

When he had met her - sitting there in the university canteen with a book in front of her, a little frown on her face, completely oblivious to everyone around her - she had knocked him sideways. It was more than the fact that she'd stood out, that she possessed head turning looks; the world was full of girls who could turn heads. No, it had been her complete and utter indifference to the glances with her sandwich before shoving it to one side and heading out. She had looked neither right nor left. The canteen could have been void of people.

Standing here now, looking at her, Asad could recreate the feeling of intense, incomprehensible attraction that had swept over him then as though it had been yesterday. Significantly she hadn't been wearing a wedding ring then either.

"I'm not here to talk about my past," Zoya said, clearing her throat. "I've brought all the paper work about the shelter."

"And I'm not ready to talk about that yet." He sat on one of the chairs alongside her and angled it away from the table so that he had a bird's eye view of her as she stared down at the bundle of files and papers in front of her and pretended to concentrate.

"So..." He drawled. "You were about to tell me where the wedding ring's gone..."

"I don't believe I was," Zoya said coolly, gathering herself. Eyes the colour of bitter chocolate bored straight through her, bypassing the hard, glossy facade she had taken so much time and trouble to build like a fortress around herself.

"You might be curious about what I've been up to for the past years, Asad, but I have no intention of satisfying your curiosity. I just want to do what I came here to do and leave."

"You came here to lose to me," Asad told her with no hesitation. "If you had any sense, you would recognize that you will be defeated and wave the white flag before I start lowering the price I've offered to pay for that place." He drew her attention to the clock on the wall.

"With every passing minute, I drop my price by a grand, so make sure your argument's a winning one, because if it's not, you're going to find that you're not working on behalf of your client."

"You can't do that."

"I can whatever I like, Layla... Chase... or shall I call you Mrs Farooqui? Or perhaps Ms...?"

"This isn't about us, Asad." She tried to claw the conversation back to the matter at hand, back to the shelter. "So please don't think that you can use empty threads to""

"Look around you," Asad cut in lazily. "And tell me what you see."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Just do as I ask."

Zoya looked around nervously. She could feel the jaws of a trap yawning around her, but when she tried to figure out what sort of trap she came up empty.

"Big, bland conference room." She told him in a voice that hinted that she was already bored with the subject. When she looked around her, her eyes kept wanting to return to him, to look at his face and absorb all the small changes there. Seeing him now, she was beginning to realise that she had never entirely forgotten him. She had buried him but it had obviously been in a shallow grave.

"I like it bland. It doesn't pay to provide distractions when you want people seated at this table to be focused."

"You like it bland Asad. Not me."

"Correct. You see, I am AAK Holdings. I own it all. Each and every single deal is passed by me. What I say goes and no one contradicts me. So, when I tell you that I intend to drop my price by a grand for every minute you argue with me, I mean it and it's within my power to do it. Of course, you're all business and you think you can win, in which case my threat will be immaterial. But if you don't, well, after a couple of hours of futile arguing... Do the maths."

Zoya looked at him, lost for words. In view of what had happened between them, the deceit and the half lies that had finally been her undoing, she was staring at a man who had been gifted his revenge. She should have done her homework on the company more thoroughly, but she had been handed the case after her boss had done the preliminaries himself, only to find out that he couldn't follow through for personal reasons. She had focused all her energies on trying to locate loopholes that would prevent the sale of the shelter to anyone rather than specifically to AAK Holdings. Even so, would she have recognised Asad had his name come up? They hadn't afforded much time for surnames.

"Sounds ungentlemanly." Asad gave an elegant shrug and a smile that was as cold as the frozen lands. "But when it comes to business, I've always found that being a gentleman doesn't usually pay dividends."

"Why are you doing this? How could you think of pushing all those helpless women who use the shelter because we... we...?"

"Had an ill fated relationship? Because you lied to me? Deceived me? Does your firm of lawyers known the kind of person you really are?"

Zoya didn't say anything but she could feel her nervous system explode. She had unknowingly stepped into the lion's den; how far did revenge go? What paths would it travel before it was finally satisfied? Asad Ahmed Khan owned this place. Not only was it within his power to do exactly as he said, to reduce the amount he was willing to pay for the shelter with each passing minute, but what if he decided actively to go after her?

"Things weren't what they seemed back then, Asad."

"The clock's ticking." He relaxed and folded his hands behind his head. Against all odds, and knowing her for what she really was, he was irritated to discover that he could still appreciate her on a purely physical level. He had never laid a finger on her but, hell, he had fantasised about it until his head spun, had wondered what she would look like underneath the student clothes, what she would feel like. By the time he had met her, he had already had a mile long of women waiting for him, yet she had appealed to him on a level he had barely comprehended.

Leave me some feedback & don't forget to hit the like button. Thanks 😳

Love,

Annie x

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Mishti

@.LilGreenRobot.

Sparkler

+ 5

Posted: 11 years ago

#34

VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE!!

Regarding PMs:

I have decided not to send out any PMs on any of my work for the time being. It's really tiring for me. I think it's just a waste of time. I know a lot of you are very loyal readers and you also leave comments, but it's seriously demotivating sending out 250+ PMs and I'm hardly getting half the number of likes or even comments. I'm not gonna narrate a sob story because this isn't to gain anyone's sympathy. It's gonna be unfair to stop the work half way so I've decided to stop sending PMs until further notice.

I apologize to the people who requested for PMs but I can't do anything for now. I hope you all understand.

Love,

Annie x

Edited by .LilGreenRobot. - 11 years ago

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Alone111

@Alone111

Sparkler

+ 2

Posted: 11 years ago

#35

Awesome prt..
I loved it..
Luking frwrd for nxt prts

Edited by gowtu - 11 years ago

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Linsie

@Linsie

Trailblazer

+ 2

Posted: 11 years ago

#36

What opening speech

zoya well prepare for her game not until
asad show up

nice update

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noesha

@noesha

Explorer

Posted: 11 years ago

#37

im very interested! continue soon!

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Scarlet

@buttercups2020

Voyager

+ 4

Posted: 11 years ago

#38

I love the way you write dear.! Its almost like a real novel n trust me when I say u must try your hand in writing real novels! 😊

And and, I love the stories where leads have a past!!! N when It comes to asad n zoya, I love everything. So please count me in!!!!

M already anticipating some hurtful revenge.
My poor zoe. I hope things don't turn too ugly!

Continue soon
love
eshita