Back to UK

Zahran and Fatiha stepped into the villa, after a great outing. Their faces contorted in disbelief. A scream ripped through the air, escaping Fatiha's lips involuntarily. In place of the serenity they remembered, chaos reigned. The acrid scent of destruction hung heavy in the air. A testament to the malevolent force that had swept through the villa.

Zahran, his heart pounding with anxiety, surged forward, scanning everything. Surprisingly, nothing was missing.

The police arrived promptly. Raihan, donning a contemplative expression, approached Zahran, his voice laced with concern. "Is anything missing?" he inquired, searching for a clue that could unravel the case at hand.

"No," Zahran replied tersely. Stating with a somber undertone, his mind already unraveling the puzzle.

Raihan's mind whirred. "Perhaps this was a threat," he suggested, his eyes searching for clues. "Or maybe it's a message from Fatiha's relatives, trying to scare you off from the land dispute."

"It can be." Zahran expressed flatly.

It was then that Fatiha, who had been standing silently behind the curtains, ventured a thought that pierced the stifling air. "But why would they rip apart the pillows and tear the paintings? It felt as if they were searching for something specific."

Raihan's keen gaze swept across the desecrated room, "Indeed," he acknowledged with a nod.

As Zahran stood in silence, Raihan probed further. "Hey, what do you think?" he inquired.

Zahran's response was measured, "I can't think of any reason for someone to go to such lengths for something I possess," he confessed.

"Are you sure?" Raihan pressed, urgency creeping into his tone. "There might be something you don't know. Talk to your father, see if he knows of any secrets this villa might hold. In the meantime, I'll investigate Fatiha's relatives." Raihan sighed, the weight of his workload evident. "Too much work," he muttered, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and exhaustion. "I'm already knee-deep in another case."

Zahran, his curiosity piqued, inquired about the other case. "Which case?"

Raihan exhaled heavily, the burden of his responsibilities pressing down on him. "Two days ago, a tourist was found dead," he revealed. "Not far from your villa."

The word "tourist" hung in the air, resonating with an ominous tone. Zahran's gaze locked onto Raihan, his senses heightened by the impending revelation.

"A British tourist," his voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

Zahran absorbed the information, his mind racing. A darkness seemed to settle over him, casting a shadow on his every thought.

"The tourist was brutally stabbed to death." Raihan continued, his voice dropping to a barely audible level. "Local burglary gone wrong, I suspect. Autopsy soon. So much work."

Zahran listened intently, the gravity of the situation pressing heavily upon him. His silence spoke volumes, his eyes growing darker with each passing moment.

Raihan placed a reassuring hand on Zahran's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said, his voice resolute. "I'll catch the culprit behind your villa's destruction as soon as possible. I promise."

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A wave of exasperation washed over Raihan as he looked across the table at Zahran. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

Zahran's smile faltered for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of uncertainty crossing his face. "Yes," he affirmed, his voice determined. "I've been here long enough. Everyone's pressuring me to return to the UK, especially Mom and Dad. They're eager to meet Tahira, and Dad wants me to take over the business."

Raihan let out a heavy sigh, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. "Honestly, I thought you were serious about staying this time," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. "Are you truly going back just because of family pressure? Or is something else... pushing you?"

Zahran's smile returned, but it lacked its usual warmth. "That incident definitely influenced my decision," he confessed, a hint of anxiety creeping into his voice. "If it were just about me, I wouldn't hesitate to stay. But now, I'm worried about Tahira. I can't take any risks with her safety."

Raihan nodded slowly, a glint of understanding in his eyes. "Given the circumstances, it seems like the right choice," he conceded, placing a hand on Zahran's shoulder. "Just be careful, and keep me updated. I'm always here for you both, no matter what." He said and Zahran smiled.

"By the way, why do you keep calling her Tahira?" he slurped his coffee.

"She will always remain Tahira for me. No matter what." Zahran replied, looking outside the window.

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"Is this your house?" Fatiha's eyes widened. This was not a house. It looked like a mansion. Both of them were back in UK.

"No, this is our house," Zahran said and brought Fatiha even closer to him. They entered the mansion.

Fatiha marveled at how grandiose the place was. Her jaw dropped open as she gazed around the spacious interior. "This is more as extravagant than the one in Sylhet," Fatiha breathed.

Zahran smiled. "My family is quite wealthy," he replied modestly. "But you live so humbly. No one can assume you are so rich," she said.

Zahran's face became dark. He sighed. "I haven't always lived like this. There were times when I also used to spend money like all the rich brats. When my father got to know about my bad habit, he stopped giving me pocket money."

"Then you experienced poverty and became humble," Fatiha looked at him and expressed innocence.

Zahran couldn't help but smile at Fatiha's innocence. "I wish what you were saying was the reality," he said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Then, what did you do?"

" I began playing a few tricks," Zahran responded casually . "You should be more careful," he winked.

Fatiha giggled, causing Zahran's lips to twitch in amusement as well. "If you are trying to scare me, I won't. Because I know that you are a good person," Fatiha said and leaned on his shoulder. Zahran patted her.

"You flatter me," Zahran joked, though his smile betrayed the truth behind his words.

She giggled, looking up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Then, shall we begin exploring this incredible place?" she asked.

"Come, I'll show you around the house," Zahran offered, leading the way deeper inside the large mansion. Fatiha followed closely behind, her footsteps echoing through the vast corridors. As the two walked past various rooms, Fatiha admired the elegant architecture of each piece of furniture. There were beautiful carpets scattered throughout the space, plush and comfortable sofas lining the corners of the hallways, and windows overlooking the estate and the surrounding hills. She was captivated by the opulence of this place.

"Maids will come in the morning and in the afternoon for cleaning. There's a caretaker who takes care of this mansion only in my absence. The staff is made up entirely of women, who are trained for their roles very diligently. So, you can roam freely," Zahran said, turning on the staircase and walking up a few steps, his arm draped lazily over Fatiha's shoulders, guiding her upward. "This is your house. So, you can do whatever you want."

"Our house," Fatiha said and hid her face in his chest.

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