Tea and Paratha
My eyes went wide and I looked at him astounded, wondering if he was bluffing. But the faint curve of his face drooped as quickly as it had come. He turned his eyes at me and held my gaze, his expression stony.
"Is this some kind of a joke?" My father's voice erupted from the speaker.
"You heard me, Niazi. You can take as much time as you can, I'll keep your daughter with me until then. I want to see if it's an easy decision for you or not." He said and then without giving my father a chance to respond, he hung up, but didn't take his eyes off me.
"I want to see you working through the fact that your absolute trash of a father is a notorious tight-arse. Trust me, I've left him in a conundrum."
I was no longer afraid of him, and I don't know why. I was no longer praying for my life. or my virginity to remain intact for that matter. I knew he only wanted money. So maybe that's the reason I found enough courage to talk back to my kindnapper. "You're wrong. He'll be quick. I know him."
"No, you don't. You know nothing about your father, Mashal."
The way he said my name, the screened sadness in his voice opened a cavity in my heart where a dull echo resonated, making me feel miserable for a reason I didn't know.
"How do you know my name?" My voice came out lower than I'd expected.
"I've done my homework." He said and stood up from the chair. "I don't take you for a dimwit, so don't try to run. I can hurt you if you make me." With a last glance in my direction, he walked off, leaving me alone with the stout man.
"Keep an eye on her, Shareef." He called out. I turned my neck to see where he was headed and found him disappearing into a room far ahead.
Sighing, I leaned against the pillar and closed my eyes, a dull ache pulsating in my temples. Who was this guy? Who on earth demands an entire of a half fortune for ransom? Was he out of his mind? And who was he to tell me my father didn't love me?
My stomach let out a growl.
I opened my eyes and found the man ogling me from where he sat crouched on the floor by the windows. Ignoring him, I shouted, feeling a surge of anger at the young man for having the nerve to ask my father for millions and not even bother to give me something to eat. "I am HUNGRY!!"
The man jumped to his feet and looked at the room his boss had gone to in bewilderment.
"Get her something, Shareef!" I heard him bark out.
Shareef nodded and hurried towards the stairs at our left. I stared dubious around the empty living room space, debating if I should make a run out. Slowly, I rose to my feet, glanced back from over my shoulder, making sure the boss guy was still in his room, and started towards the stairs, my heart thundering inside my heart.
Please don't let him-
"Do you want me to tie you?"
Shit. I turned around. He stood at the door of the room he was in, with his hands in his pockets.
"I know you're not a professional. I can turn you in, you know that."
"You can, but you won't."
"Don't for one second take me for a pathetic weak girl. I'm stronger than you think."
He looked at me with an expression I couldn't place and replied after a pause. If it was possible, his gaze had hardened. "Zip your mouth and sit down."
I curled my fingers into a fist. "I will turn you in."
Swiftly ignoring me, he came back to sit on the chair.
Clenching my jaw, I glanced back at the stairs. If I sprint, I can make it down before he could realise what happened. Without wasting another breath, I darted. Just as I was about to take the first step down, I was severely pulled back by the arm. A searing pain shot up to my shoulder and I had to clench my teeth to stifle the groan. I winced as he pushed me against the wall and brought his face close to mine.
"I thought I told you to sit down." He snarled, his eyes shooting sparks of fury. He still had his hand clasped around my arm, and God it hurt. And there I was gloating a few moments ago that I was strong.
You're pathetic, Mashal. A voice in my heart declared, and immediately tears struck my eyes.
"I don't like being driven to do things I don't otherwise want to." He was saying.
"You're hurting me." My lips moved.
His gaze flicked between his grip and my eyes. I wished he didn't see the moisture in them.
His fingers tightened before he slackened his hold and started to our right, pulling me behind him. Taking me to a room, he let me go and closed the door on his way out. I opened my mouth to take a deep breath in an effort to calm myself down, but instead a gasp escaped my mouth. A few tears strolled down to my cheek, and immediately wiping them off, I walked to the open window, and slumped down on the floor. Pulling up my knees, I rested my head on them and closed my eyes, listening to the low growls of my stomach.
A couple of minutes later I heard the door open but when I looked up to see, there was only.a tray on the floor with a cup of tea and a paratha. I averted my gaze, deciding not to eat, despite the protests of my stomach.