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Fiza Alvi had everything—wealth, status, and power.But behind her calm and composed demeanor lay a secret, a mission that brought her into Ibrahim Siddiqui’s world. A self-made entrepreneur, Ibrahim had built his company from the ground up, driven by sheer determination and a belief in justice. He saw the world in black and white—until she walked into his life.  

What could a woman who had it all possibly want from a man like him?  

“Why would someone like you work here, Fiza?” Ibrahim asked, his sharp gaze piercing through her. “You could be doing anything you wanted. You’re too qualified for this.”  
She met his gaze steadily, her expression unreadable. “Not everything is about qualifications, Mr. Siddiqui. Sometimes, people work for reasons that have nothing to do with their résumé.”  
Ibrahim frowned, intrigued but suspicious. “And what reason would that be?”  
Fiza’s lips curled into a slight smile. “That, Mr. Siddiqui, is none of your business—yet.”  

As secrets unravel and their worlds collide, Fiza and Ibrahim are drawn into a web of intrigue, danger, and emotions they never anticipated. Beneath the surface of boardroom politics lies a game of survival, and every move they make has consequences.  

“You trust too easily,” she warned, her eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn’t name.  
“And you,” he countered, “hide too much.”  

In a story where loyalty is tested and love blooms amidst chaos, Fiza and Ibrahim must confront not only their shared enemies but also the truths about themselves. Will they rise together, or will their differences tear them apart?

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The Silent Rebellion

Later that evening, after dinner, Fiza sat in her room with Aqsa and Uzma, the soft glow of her bedside lamp giving the room a warm, intimate atmosphere. Zinia was with their parents, her sweet giggles echoing faintly in the background.

"Are you sure you're handling it well, Fiza?" Aqsa asked, her tone filled with concern. "I know what you're doing, but I worry."

Fiza gave her a soft smile, her eyes full of determination. "I'm handling it, Aqsa. There's no need to worry. I know exactly what I'm doing."

Uzma, always the calm one, nodded. "Just be careful. We're here for you, no matter what. But don't let anything or anyone distract you."

"I won't," Fiza promised, feeling a surge of gratitude for her sisters' unwavering support.

Aqsa leaned in to give Fiza a tight hug. "Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself, okay?"

Fiza hugged her back, holding her sister close for a moment. "I will, Aqsa. I promise."

Uzma, with her characteristic warmth, kissed Fiza's forehead. "Make sure to do your **Isha** prayer and get some rest. Tomorrow's another day."

Fiza nodded, her heart feeling lighter. After her sisters left the room, she quietly walked to the washroom to perform wudu. She washed her hands, mouth, nose, face, arms, and feet with care, following the steps as she whispered the intentions in her heart. The cool water against her skin refreshed her spirit and cleansed away the day's burdens.

Returning to her room, she rolled out her prayer mat and stood for her Isha prayer. The rhythmic recitation of verses and the tranquility of her movements brought her the peace she needed after a long day.

As she finished her prayer, she raised her hands in dua, asking Allah for strength, guidance, and the courage to face what lay ahead.

When she finally lay down, her thoughts briefly wandered to Ibrahim Siddiqui. Her path would inevitably cross his again, but she couldn't afford to let that affect her. She had a mission, and she wouldn't falter.

"Allah Hafiz," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes as sleep began to take over.

And so, as the night fell over Zarvahn, Fiza Alvi was one step closer to the truth.

Family Bonds