22| Tame Her

T A M E   H E R

W O R D C O U N T: 2685

Hello again beautiful people! 😘

Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou! To anyone who prayed for me.

The process for my visa is almost complete now. They have taken my passport for stamping

In sha Allah once it's done, I will be going back to him♥️

Sorry for not updating for two days. I was very busy. Also as an apology, I give you 2 updates back to back♥️

Vote and comment so that I can surprise you again.

Anyway, enjoy..

The room was thick with tension, the kind that made the air feel heavier, suffocating. Humza's grip on his pistol tightened as his eyes remained locked on her—his so-called wife. A deceiver. A liar. Pretending to be all innocent and naïve when in reality, she was no less than the people he despised. At least he had never pretended to be anything but what he was—a monster. She, on the other hand, had played the part of the helpless, fragile girl so perfectly that even he had almost fallen for the illusion. Almost.

"What's your relation to my wife?" His voice was dangerously low, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface.

Uzair didn't falter. "We grew up together. I am her cousin."

A cold, humorless laugh escaped Humza's lips. Cousin. The word should have doused the fire burning inside him, should have put his raging thoughts to rest. But it didn't. If anything, it only made it worse.

It meant Uzair had known her longer, had been a part of her life in ways Humza never had. It meant shared memories, laughter, secrets—things Humza hadn't been there for. And the thought of it clawed at him, unsettling and irrational.

Jealous. The word tasted bitter on his tongue, but he couldn't deny it. Even if he wanted to.

"Interesting," Humza mused, rolling the word over his tongue like a razor blade.

He took a slow step forward, his smirk dark, calculating. "You ever think about dying, Uzair?" He tilted his head, as if genuinely curious. A hundred different ways to make him suffer flashed through his mind, and he could almost taste the satisfaction it would bring.

"Humza, listen to me." Her voice, frantic, desperate. "He has no fault in this. Trust me, he doesn't know."

So, what she was trying to say was that this boy—Uzair—wasn't aware of her feelings for him? Hmmm... Well, did that help in reducing the blazing agony twisting inside him?

No.

His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as he turned his gaze toward her, his eyes sharp enough to slice through her defenses.

"Did I tell you to speak?" His voice cut through the air, cold and unforgiving.

Anaabiya's lips parted as if to protest, but she quickly shut them, her fingers curling into the fabric of her dress.

"Humza, let him go. He's her family," Bibijaan's voice rang through the thick silence. She stepped forward, her presence grounding the chaos for just a moment.

It was only then that Humza acknowledged the presence of Bibijaan. His expression didn't soften, but his movements stilled. Slowly, he pushed the gun behind him, slipping it out of sight. "Go inside, Bibijaan. I don't want you to see this."

He respected Bibijaan more than his own mother.

And she didn't deserve to witness this side of him. Not tonight.

"I'm not going anywhere," Bibijaan said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She stepped forward, unshaken by the looming storm that was Humza. "That boy is leaving. You will not hurt him. Don't you understand? He is her family." She repeated, as if daring him to challenge her.

Humza let out a low, bitter chuckle, shaking his head. His smirk was laced with nothing but mockery. "Family?" His voice dripped with disdain. "Does she even have a family?" His sharp gaze flickered toward Anaabiya, his words cutting deeper than any wound. "You mean the ones who practically sold her to me? The ones who don't even check up on her? The ones who gave her away like she was nothing?"

His words were cruel, and they hit their mark.

Tears stung Anaabiya's eyes, pooling at the edges before they could spill over. Humza noticed. And for a fleeting second, something inside him twisted.

But not enough.

His jaw tightened, and his patience snapped.

With a flick of his fingers, he ordered the guards to remove Bibijaan. "Take her out of here."

She struggled, her protests sharp and furious, but the guards held firm. Despite her resistance, she was forcibly escorted out of the hall, her angry words fading as she disappeared from sight.

Anaabiya took a step forward, but Humza's sharp glare stopped her in her tracks.

"I am her family," Uzair's voice rang out, steady and unwavering. "My parents made a mistake, but I won't. I'll return whatever money was given to them by you. Just let her go."

Humza's fingers twitched.

Can somebody just kill him already?

His rage had simmered for a moment when he saw her tears, but Uzair—this bastard—had just managed to reignite it in full force.

Humza cocked his head, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. His lips curved, but there was nothing kind about it. "Oh? That's cute." His voice was silk and poison all at once.

Then, his smirk faded, replaced with something far more sinister.

"Too bad I don't want the money anymore." He took a step closer, his presence suffocating, his aura deadly.

"And unfortunately for you, you just trespassed onto my property." His voice dropped lower, dangerously quiet.

"That means you owe me."

"Humza, I'll do anything," Anaabiya blurted, desperation thick in her voice. Her breathing was uneven, her hands trembling at her sides. "Just don't hurt him."

Humza's gaze flicked to her, cold and calculating. He studied her, taking in the raw fear in her eyes, the way she stood slightly in front of Uzair—as if she could shield him from his wrath.

"And why," he drawled, tilting his head, "would I listen to you?"

She inhaled shakily, as if steadying herself before speaking. "Because I'm offering myself."

Humza went still.

She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do whatever you want with me. Just let him leave. You can punish me."

His lips parted slightly at her words, then curled into something dark. Oh. Now she had his attention.

Interesting.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Anaabiya, no!" Uzair's voice was sharp with panic. He stepped forward, reaching for her. "I can take you back! Don't do this—"

Over my dead body, Humza thought, his smirk vanishing in an instant.

His patience had run dry.

"Don't forget your promise." His voice was ice, cutting through the air like a blade.

She flinched, her breath hitching, and nodded stiffly.

Uzair turned to her in disbelief. "Anaabiya—"

"Why are you doing this?" Uzair's voice was sharp with frustration, but beneath it lay something else—hurt. "Don't you trust me? I can handle this, Anaabiya."

He didn't know when to shut up. He was pushing Humza's patience to its limits, stoking a fire that was already burning too hot.

Anaabiya turned to look at Humza, and the slow, chilling smirk curling on his lips told her everything she needed to know.

"Maybe I can help you understand," Humza murmured, his voice deceptively calm.

Before she could react, before Uzair could even take a step, the pistol that had been aimed at him shifted—now leveled directly at her.

A sharp inhale escaped her lips.

Uzair's entire body tensed, his fists curling at his sides. "What the fuck—"

"Trust me," Humza said smoothly, his finger grazing the trigger, the movement so casual yet so terrifying. His voice was devoid of emotion, eerily blank. "I would love to press the trigger right now."

Uzair looked like he was seconds away from lunging at him.

"She doesn't mean anything to me," Humza added carelessly.

Liar!

Anaabiya flinched.

It was quick, but Humza caught it. And for a brief second, something flickered in his chest—something sharp, something unfamiliar. It made him uneasy.

Beside him, Huzaifa raised an eyebrow but wisely stayed silent.

The contrast of the situation wasn't lost on Humza. An hour ago, the mere thought of someone hurting Anaabiya had been enough to make him see red. Now, he stood here, playing a game that felt dangerous, even to himself.

Fine. Maybe she was something to him. But what? He didn't know.

Maybe he wanted to tame her. Maybe he wanted to break her.

Her fire drew him in, and he wanted to extinguish it.

He wanted her to submit.

Even though he wanted Uzair to believe that he could pull the trigger, seeing Anaabiya flinch—seeing the fear in her eyes, the belief that he was capable of ending her life—unsettled him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

It shouldn't have bothered him.

But it did.

Anger simmered beneath his skin, not at her, but at the fact that she actually thought he would do it. Then again, what else could he expect? He had nearly killed her just days ago, his hands wrapped around her throat, watching as the life drained from her eyes.

Something twisted inside him, sharp and unwelcome.

He shoved it aside.

Humza couldn't make sense of the chaos she stirred within him. She was supposed to be just another pawn, a means to an end, yet every time she looked at him with those defiant, tear-filled eyes, something inside him cracked. He despised her for making him feel—frustration, anger, something far more dangerous that he refused to name. One moment, he wanted to break her, to crush the fire in her eyes until she was nothing but submission, and the next, he wanted to shield her from everything, even himself. It infuriated him, this war within him, this inexplicable need to possess and protect all at once.

Uzair's face drained of all color, his eyes widening in sheer terror. But it wasn't for himself—it was for her. And that only fueled Humza's irritation.

"No," Uzair whispered, his body tensing as he took an urgent step forward. "No, no, no—"

His hands shot up in surrender, as if the gun were still pointed at him.

"Okay!" he choked out, voice frantic. "Okay! Stop! I'm leaving. Just don't hurt her."

Humza tilted his head, watching him with a detached kind of amusement. Finally, he lowered the gun slightly, though his grip remained tight, his expression unreadable as his eyes lingered on Anaabiya.

He loved this—watching the control slip from Uzair's hands, seeing the desperation in his eyes. But what clawed at him, what unsettled him more than anything, was the way she looked at Uzair.

Like he was her lifeline.

Like he meant everything to her.

Humza's fingers twitched around the gun. He wanted that look for himself. All for himself. And the fact that it wasn't his to have made his blood boil.

A darkness settled in his chest, seething and relentless. He had thought nothing could surpass the hatred he felt for his mother's husband, but this—this was different. This was raw, vicious, uncontainable.

His voice was eerily calm when he turned back to Uzair. "You have ten seconds to get out of here."

Uzair hesitated, his hands clenching into fists. "I will come back for you," he swore, his voice fierce, unwavering. His eyes locked onto Anaabiya's. "I will never leave you here."

Humza let out a cold, hollow laugh, but his heart burned with an unrelenting fire. The mere thought of Uzair taking her away, of her choosing him over Humza, made his vision darken with fury.

He couldn't kill him. Not yet. Not if he didn't want her to hate him beyond repair.

But he could still make him suffer.

A smirk ghosted over his lips as he took aim. "Uzair." His voice was smooth, almost casual.

Uzair turned—just in time to see the barrel shift from Anaabiya to him.

A gunshot ripped through the air, deafening, final.

A strangled cry tore from Anaabiya's lips as Uzair collapsed to the floor, clutching his right leg where the bullet had struck. Blood seeped through his pants, pooling beneath him as pain twisted his features.

"NO!" Anaabiya lunged toward him, but Humza grabbed her wrist, yanking her back against his chest.

"You cheater!" Anaabiya spat, struggling against his iron grip, her voice sharp with betrayal. She fought, her nails digging into his wrist, but Humza didn't budge. She was nothing against his strength. Nothing against the storm raging inside him.

"You promised!" she cried, desperation lacing every word.

Humza yanked her closer, forcing her to see the cold fury in his eyes. His grip was unyielding, his presence suffocating.

"Consider it a warning," he murmured darkly, his breath fanning against her face. "Next time he dares to touch you, I won't miss."

She trembled in his grasp, but her eyes still burned with defiance. He could feel the way her body betrayed her, shaking against his hold, but she refused to look away.

"Take him to the hospital," Humza ordered, his voice void of emotion.

His men moved swiftly, lifting Uzair's wounded body as if he weighed nothing. Blood stained the floor where he had collapsed, but Humza didn't spare him another glance. His focus remained solely on Anaabiya.

And then he heard it.

A strangled sob.

"Uzair..." her voice cracked, thick with emotion.

Disgust curled inside Humza's chest.

Not for her—for himself.

Because the way she cried for Uzair, the way her voice trembled with pain over him, made something dark and twisted coil inside him. His blood burned. His fingers twitched with the need to break something. To break him.

How could she feel so much for someone like that?

Was that what love looked like? The thought alone made his stomach churn.

As soon as Uzair was carried out of sight, Humza released her as though she were something vile, something beneath him. She stumbled, her knees buckling, but she caught herself at the last second.

Then she looked up at him.

And he saw it.

The raw, unfiltered fury in her tear-filled eyes. The kind of hatred that cut deeper than any weapon ever could.

"You're a cheat," she choked out, her voice trembling but unwavering.

Humza let out a low, humorless chuckle, tilting his head as if amused by her audacity.

"Really?" he sneered. "And what does that make you?"

Her lips parted, but she had no answer. She didn't need one. Her silence spoke louder than words.

She hated him.

Good.

"You promised me!" Anaabiya's voice rose, thick with fury and disbelief. "You said you'd let him go home!"

Humza exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders back as he regarded her with cold, detached amusement. His eyes gleamed with something cruel.

"And I did," he drawled, his tone deliberately slow, mocking. "I let him go home. I never promised he'd walk out unharmed." His lips curled into a smirk. "Besides, why are you overreacting? He's alive. My men are taking him to the hospital. What more do you want?" He took a slow step forward, voice dropping lower. "I haven't killed him..." A pause. A deliberate, lingering silence.

"Yet."

That single word dripped with threat, with the promise of something far worse than a bullet to the leg.

And then it happened.

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the room.

His head snapped to the side, his jaw tightening as his cheek stung from the impact.

For a moment, the room fell into silence.

Humza didn't move. Didn't breathe.

She slapped him.

His own wife, the woman that had him going crazy, had just raised her hand against him.

I like to write Humza's POV more than Anaabiya's 🤔

The next chapter is a bit long and I loved writing it :)

E D I T E D on 23.2.2025