38| Game On, Mr. Humza

G A M E O N, M R. H U M Z A

W O R D  C O U N T: 5098

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For Humza

Also sorry for the late update, had a shitty day.

It took Humza a moment to respond—not that he actually answered the question. Instead, he chose the easy way out, dodging it entirely.

"Stay the hell away from my things," he snapped, his tone sharp and dismissive. Without sparing her another glance, he stalked toward the cupboard, rummaging through it as if she wasn't even standing there.

Anaabiya's jaw clenched. Oh, so he thought he could just brush her off that easily? Not happening.

Marching toward him, she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her. "Don't even try to change the topic," she demanded, her voice firm, unwavering. "I asked you a question, and you will answer me."

For a brief second, something flickered across his face—surprise? Amusement? But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that same cold, unreadable mask.

"Don't flatter yourself," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "There are cameras all over the house. It's not just you. I'm tracking a traitor, and that could be anyone."

Anaabiya felt her breath hitch. A traitor? She could see the warning in his eyes, the sharp edge to his words. But beneath it all, there was something else—something he wasn't saying.

Still, his words stung.

"You think I could be the traitor?" she asked, her voice softer now, a mix of disbelief and hurt.

For a moment, Humza didn't say anything. His eyes flickered with something unspoken, but just like before, he shut it down before she could figure it out.

Humza shrugged carelessly. "I don't know. Could be."

Anaabiya stared at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt—but there was nothing. Cold. Indifferent. A stranger in front of her.

"You don't mean that." The words left her lips in a whisper, more of a reassurance to herself than an accusation.

But he didn't even look at her. He turned away, as if the tears pooling in her eyes were beneath his notice.

"I mean every damn word," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I already told you—I was just playing around. Winning your love was just another game. There was always this fire in you, this defiance that irritated me. I wanted to break that. Make you submit to me. And guess what? I won." His lips curled slightly, but it wasn't a smile—it was mocking, cruel. "Just look at yourself."

Anaabiya felt like the floor beneath her had crumbled.

This wasn't real. He was lying. He had to be lying.

She stood frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. His words replayed in her mind, stabbing her over and over like tiny, invisible daggers.

Just a game? Was that all she was to him?

She sucked in a sharp breath, her vision blurring. Quickly, she rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears before they could betray her.

If he wanted to hurt her, he had succeeded.

Anaabiya lowered her gaze to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. She could feel them on her, burning with an intensity she wasn't ready to face. If she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold back the storm of emotions threatening to spill over.

"I brought you food," she said quietly, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sleeve.

Humza let out a scoff, his voice dripping with irritation. "Spare me the act, Anaabiya. We're not some perfect little couple, so stop pretending like we are."

His words were a bitter reminder of reality. What had she even expected? Gratitude? Softness? She should have known better.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself before speaking again. "I made biryani for you. Thought you might like it." Her voice was steady, though every word felt like a battle. "Eat it, throw it—I don't care. But I'm not taking it back."

She waited, half-expecting him to snap back at her, to argue, to say something—anything. But he remained silent. No biting remarks, no mocking retorts. Nothing.

That, more than anything, caught her off guard.

Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the room. There was no point in staying. Not when he had already made it clear where they stood.

The moment Anaabiya stepped out of the room, her composure shattered. Hot tears pricked at her eyes, falling freely before she could stop them. With a sharp breath, she wiped them away hastily, scolding herself. Stop expecting, you fool! she thought bitterly. She had no one to blame but herself for hoping Humza would care, even in the slightest.

This place wasn't even an office. It felt more like a hidden fortress, a stronghold built to keep secrets locked away.

She had barely taken nine or ten steps from Humza's cabin when she collided with something solid—no, someone solid. A strong, unmoving figure that felt as unyielding as a wall.

Before she could stumble back, an arm swiftly curled around her waist, pulling her in. The sudden contact sent a jolt through her, and her eyes widened in shock. Their proximity was unsettling, almost too intimate for comfort. Anaabiya instinctively placed her hands between them, attempting to create some space, but the man didn't move an inch.

Her gaze lifted, taking in his features. He was tall—at least six foot two—with dark hair and a shadow of a beard that gave him a rugged, almost dangerous look. His face was sharp, aristocratic, the kind that commanded attention without even trying. His body was built with the same athletic strength as Humza's, though his aura was different. Less cold, more intense.

His deep, husky voice broke the silence. "Are you alright?" There was something alluring about the way he spoke, dark and smooth, as if he was used to people hanging onto his every word.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, regaining her composure. Then she glanced down at the firm hold he still had around her waist. "Now, will you please move your hand?"

She pushed against him lightly, but he didn't budge.

Anaabiya stiffened, suddenly aware of how closely he was watching her. Who was he? And more importantly—why was he looking at her like that?

The stranger's piercing gaze bore into Anaabiya, sharp and knowing. His lips curled into a smirk as he tilted his head slightly, studying her with an air of amusement.

"If you're so fine," he drawled, his voice laced with curiosity, "then why are you crying, my lady?"

Anaabiya stiffened. Why does he care? she thought, frustration bubbling inside her. She shifted uncomfortably, attempting to push him away once more. "Just leave me alone," she muttered, trying to sidestep him.

But the man didn't budge. If anything, his grip remained firm as he leaned in ever so slightly, his smirk deepening. "Not before you tell me your name, beautiful," he mused, as if he had all the time in the world.

Anaabiya narrowed her eyes, unimpressed by his overconfidence. Alas! He really was one of the most annoyingly good-looking people she had ever met. Of course apart from Humza.

Before she could snap back at him, a cold, lethal voice sliced through the air.

"Hands. Off. My. Wife, you moron."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop instantly. Anaabiya's entire body went rigid. She knew that voice. That tone. It carried a dangerous edge that could send shivers down anyone's spine.

Humza.

He was right behind her.

His grip latched onto her arm in a possessive hold, pulling her back without hesitation. The stranger barely had time to react before Humza yanked her out of his grasp, causing her to stumble straight into his chest.

The air between them thickened. Anaabiya's breathing hitched, her heart pounding wildly—not from fear, but from the overwhelming effect Humza had on her. The intoxicating scent of his cologne wrapped around her like a storm, clouding her senses.

The stranger, however, seemed thoroughly amused rather than intimidated. He released his hold with an exaggerated sigh, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, brother," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Didn't realize she was off-limits."

Humza's glare could have burned a hole through the man's skull. "She's not just off-limits," he growled, his jaw ticking. "She's mine."

Anaabiya swallowed hard, glancing up at him. His grip on her was tight, his entire body coiled like a predator ready to strike. The tension between the two men was palpable—one radiating smug amusement, the other barely restraining his fury.

The stranger let out a low whistle. "Territorial, aren't we?" he mused, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't peg you for the jealous type, Humza."

Humza's hold on Anaabiya tightened ever so slightly. "Touch her again, and I'll break every bone in your body," he said smoothly, his voice deceptively calm.

Anaabiya watched in stunned silence as the stranger's jaw tensed, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. For a moment, she thought he had taken offence and the situation was on the verge of spiraling out of control. The tension in the air was thick, charged with an unspoken challenge between the two men. But just as she braced herself for an explosion, the stranger suddenly chuckled, shaking his head.

"Relax, man," he drawled, lifting both hands in a mock display of surrender. "Didn't realize this beauty was already claimed." His smirk was nothing short of smug, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he let his gaze flicker over Anaabiya once more.

Humza's jaw clenched. Without a word, he yanked her behind him, shielding her from Shahzil as though she were something precious—something he refused to let anyone else even look at.

Anaabiya narrowed her eyes at his possessiveness, a flicker of irritation surfacing. He can't just act like he doesn't care and then turn into a jealous husband the moment another man so much as breathes near me.

Before she could protest, Humza spoke again, his voice dangerously low. "What brought you here, Shahzil?"

The way he said the name dripped with venom, making it clear that whatever history they shared wasn't a pleasant one. Anaabiya instinctively took a step back, sensing the tension rising once more. But the moment she moved, Humza's hand shot out, gripping her arm and pulling her right back behind him.

Her irritation flared.

Enough.

She shot him a glare, mirroring his own intensity, making it clear she wasn't going to be tossed around like some object. If he was going to pretend she didn't matter, then he had no right to act as if she did now.

Shahzil, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly entertained by the exchange. His smirk deepened as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, now, Humza," he mused, tilting his head slightly. "No need to get so worked up. I just came by to have a little chat... but it seems I stumbled into something far more interesting."

Humza's grip on Anaabiya didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened, his entire body radiating warning. "Say what you have to say and get lost."

But Shahzil only chuckled, his gaze flickering between them as if piecing together a puzzle. "Oh, don't mind me," he murmured, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I'll leave soon enough. But I have to say...you both are far more entertaining."

Anaabiya caught the way Humza's muscles tensed, how his fingers momentarily curled into a fist.

She almost smirked.

Good! He deserved it.

Humza's patience was running thin. His jaw clenched as he glared at Shahzil. "Stop wasting my time and just get to the point," he snapped.

Shahzil smirked, clearly enjoying riling him up. "Relax, man. No need to get all worked up," he drawled. "Ahmed Bhai is in town and has invited you to dinner tomorrow. Oh, and he specifically asked you to bring your wife along." His tone was casual, but Anaabiya noticed the way he subtly tilted his head, trying to get a better look at her.

"She's not coming," Humza shot back instantly, his voice firm.

Shahzil raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "And why's that?" he challenged.

"That's none of your damn business," Humza snapped, his temper flaring.

"Woah, chill out," Shahzil chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, Ahmed Bhai won't be too pleased if you refuse."

At that, Humza's entire body went rigid. His jaw ticked as he shook his head, clearly frustrated, while Anaabiya peeked up at him from behind, sensing his inner turmoil.

Humza's voice thundered through the room. "Huzaifaaa!" His shout echoed, sending a shiver down Anaabiya's spine. Within moments, Huzaifa emerged from one of the doors, his face glistening with sweat, a pistol gripped firmly in his hand. The sight sent a wave of dread coursing through Anaabiya's veins, her breath catching in her throat.

Without thinking, she clung to Humza's back, pressing herself against him as if he were the only thing standing between her and danger. His body went rigid at the unexpected contact, his muscles tensing beneath her touch. She could feel the restrained power humming through him, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

Huzaifa, noticing her fear, immediately moved his gun behind his back, as if trying to shield her from the sight of it. His expression softened for the briefest moment, but Humza gave him no chance to speak.

"Treat him nicely. I'll be back," Humza barked, his tone sharp enough to cut through steel.

Before Anaabiya could process anything further, he grabbed her wrist and started dragging her away. His grip was unrelenting, his pace swift and forceful, making it clear that resistance was futile. She struggled to keep up, her feet stumbling slightly as he pulled her along like a ragdoll.

As they passed Shahzil, she could feel his gaze burning into her, filled with curiosity and something else she couldn't quite place. But she barely had time to think about it.

Humza's anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. His entire being seemed coiled, ready to explode. At that moment, Anaabiya realized—he was on the verge of losing control, and God help anyone who dared to cross his path.

"Where are you taking me?" Anaabiya managed to question, her voice laced with frustration and unease. Humza's grip on her wrist was firm, unrelenting, as he strode forward with purpose. She felt the weight of the guards' curious gazes on her, their silent stares making her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"Just shut up," Humza snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. The sheer force of it sent a shiver down her spine, and she clenched her jaw to keep from arguing back. Just you wait, Mr. Humza, she seethed inwardly. I will take my revenge.

The tension between them was suffocating. Every step she took alongside him was heavy with anticipation and uncertainty. She hoped—prayed—for some kind of intervention, some miracle that would stop this madness before it escalated any further. But there was none. Humza was a force of nature, unstoppable, determined.

He didn't pause, didn't glance back, didn't offer any explanation. He simply dragged her forward, his grip punishing as they reached the front doors. She dug her heels in slightly, an instinctual protest, but it did nothing to slow him down.

He led her straight to his car, his movements precise, his entire body radiating a quiet, dangerous fury. As they reached the sleek black vehicle, he pulled a remote from his pocket, pressing a button that unlocked it with a sharp beep. Without sparing her a glance, he yanked the passenger door open and turned to her, his expression unreadable.

"Get in," he ordered, his voice low but charged with an authority that left no room for defiance.

Anaabiya hesitated, her pulse hammering in her ears. She met his gaze, searching for something—anything—that would reassure her, but all she found was simmering anger. Swallowing hard, she finally stepped inside, her movements stiff and reluctant. The moment she shut the door, a sharp click echoed through the tense air.

She jiggled the handle. Locked.

Her eyes snapped to Humza, who was already moving around to the driver's side, his jaw clenched tight.

Anaabiya let out a frustrated grunt, her nails digging into her palms. He had thought of everything. No escape. No way out.

she was completely at his mercy.

Anaabiya's gaze wandered over the luxurious interior of the car, its sleek design exuding the same raw power and dominance that Humza carried within him. For a fleeting moment, a strange sense of peace settled over her as she inhaled the familiar scent that clung to the leather seats—the intoxicating blend of his cologne. It was maddening how even his mere presence could bring her both comfort and unease.

As Humza slid into the driver's seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel with a tense precision, he cast a brief glance in her direction. "Strap in," he commanded, his voice edged with impatience.

Anaabiya barely had time to reach for the seatbelt before the car roared to life, surging forward with a jolt. Her breath caught in her throat as he accelerated down the road at an alarming speed. The streetlights blurred into streaks of gold and white, flashing by too quickly for her liking. The force of his sharp turn into a narrower road sent her body swaying, and she instinctively clutched the seat for stability.

"Humza, slow down!" Her voice was firm, but beneath it was a tremor of unease.

He didn't respond, his grip tightening on the wheel.

Anaabiya squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let the dizzying rush of speed consume her. The memory of that night—the fear, the helplessness—threatened to creep in, clawing at the edges of her mind. She shook her head slightly, willing it away before it could pull her under.

But the way Humza drove, reckless and relentless, made it impossible to forget.

Anaabiya squeezed her eyes shut, fear gripping her chest as the car sped forward. When she finally dared to open them, she found Humza's piercing gaze fixed on her, burning with frustration.

"What did I say? Just shut the fuck up!" His voice lashed out, sharp and merciless, making her shrink back in her seat.

Her breathing became uneven as panic threatened to consume her. "P-Please... just stop," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It reminds me of the accident."

A single tear escaped, tracing down her cheek before she could stop it. She hated showing weakness in front of him, but the memories clawed at her mercilessly, breaking through the barriers she had desperately tried to maintain.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in Humza's eyes—an emotion she couldn't quite decipher. Regret? Guilt? It was gone before she could be sure. Without a word, he abruptly eased his foot off the accelerator, the car slowing. But just as she allowed herself to believe it was for her, the realization hit— they had already reached home.

His movements were rigid as he stepped out of the car, unlocking her door with swift impatience. Before she could react, his hand gripped her arm, pulling her out with little effort.

"I can walk!" she snapped, yanking her arm free. Frustration burned in her voice, her patience finally wearing thin.

Humza didn't let go. Instead, he tightened his grip and hauled Anaabiya along with him, forcing her to almost run to keep up with his long, determined strides. A dull ache pulsed in her head from all the strain, but he didn't seem to care.

As they made their way upstairs, her gaze caught Malika standing at a distance, watching them with amusement, a smug smirk playing on her lips. Anaabiya's irritation flared instantly, fueling the fire of her already simmering anger.

She stumbled more than once, barely managing to keep herself from falling, but Humza didn't slow down. He was relentless, dragging her along as if she weighed nothing. When they finally reached her room, he flung the door open, and she braced herself, expecting him to shove her inside and lock her in again—just like before.

But he didn't.

Instead, he led her straight into the washroom.

Confusion swept over her. What was he trying to do now?

Anaabiya gasped, eyes widening in pure shock as Humza grabbed her wrist and pulled her under the shower with him. Before she could protest, a sudden rush of cold water cascaded over them, drenching them both in an instant.

She shivered as the fabric of her clothes clung to her body, her white top quickly turning semi-transparent. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she became painfully aware of his piercing gaze raking over her, dark and intense, like a predator sizing up his prey.

Her instinct screamed at her to turn away, to break free, but before she could, Humza moved swiftly, catching her wrists and pinning them above her head against the cold, tiled wall. His body pressed dangerously close, trapping her between him and the hard surface.

Anaabiya's breath hitched. She was completely at his mercy, the tension between them crackling like fire in the downpour. Her heart pounded as she met his gaze—his smoldering, unreadable gaze that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Humza..." Her voice was barely a whisper, but he didn't move, didn't ease his hold. He simply stared, drinking her in, as if daring her to challenge the storm between them.

Anaabiya couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Her heart pounded erratically, the sound almost deafening in her ears.

"Look at me," Humza's voice had lost its earlier edge—it was softer now, but laced with something deeper, something raw.

A shiver coursed through her body at their unbearable proximity. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, locking eyes with him. His dark brown orbs searched hers, desperate, restless, as if he was looking for something—something unspoken, something she couldn't name.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was barely a whisper, her breath mingling with his as the water poured over them, soaking them through.

"Washing away his touch." His voice was low, rough with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. "No one touches you. No one but me."

A sharp inhale left her lips. His words, his possessiveness, should have infuriated her—but instead, a wildfire of emotions raged inside her, leaving her breathless. His body was pressed into hers, the heat of him searing even through the cold water.

Anaabiya's pulse raced as she caught the flicker of his gaze dropping to her lips. Her stomach tightened, anticipation weaving through her veins. If he moved just an inch closer...

For seconds, he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable, his breathing uneven. Water dripped from his hair, tracing rivulets down his face, over his jaw, slipping from his chin.

The space between them was suffocatingly small. Charged. Dangerous.

And she wasn't sure if she wanted to escape it at all.

His hands, which had been pinning her wrists moments ago, now slid to cradle her face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. His thumb skimmed over her lower lip, tracing its curve as if committing every detail to memory.

Humza's face inched closer, his gaze dark and unreadable. He looked utterly captivating like this—drenched, intense, and lost in a moment neither of them fully understood. Anaabiya's breath hitched as his lips brushed against hers, a fleeting touch that sent a surge of warmth through her. But she knew she couldn't give in, not like this—not when he refused to be honest with her.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back. The shock in his eyes was immediate, quickly replaced by frustration as he shot her a sharp glare.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. "What do you even want, Humza? Why can't you just be clear with me? I'm tired of this endless push and pull. Do you want me or not? Have I done something wrong for you to keep treating me this way?"

Her voice wavered, but the tears streaming down her face blended seamlessly with the water cascading from the shower, masking the depth of her hurt. Humza's expression shifted—something flickered in his eyes, but he said nothing. Instead, he ran a frustrated hand through his wet hair, exhaling sharply before turning away.

Without thinking, Anaabiya reached for him. She couldn't let him leave. Not this time.

Anaabiya took a deep breath, her voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside her. "Just answer me this, Humza. If you don't love me, then why did you leave Malika in her room that night and come to mine? Why are you pretending? I already know the truth—it's written all over you. You can try to hurt me all you want, but it won't change anything."

Humza had already halted mid-step, but he didn't turn around. His silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

"I. Don't. Love. You." His voice was cold, each word deliberately enunciated.

"Liar."

That single word hung in the air, sharp enough to cut. For the first time, he had nothing to say. No argument. No denial. Without another glance, he walked away, leaving her standing there with the weight of unspoken truths pressing down on her.

She watched him disappear, feeling a strange sense of victory—unaware that in her defiance, she had only made things worse.

Later, she changed into dry clothes and offered her prayers, finding solace in the quiet. But Humza didn't return that day.

Anaabiya woke up feeling strangely victorious. Last night, she had cornered Humza with the truth, and for once, he had no comeback. That alone made up for the emotional turmoil he had put her through. But she wasn't about to dwell on it—if Humza wanted to keep pretending, let him.

She freshened up and made her way downstairs, only to be greeted by the delicious aroma of breakfast. Bibijaan was setting the table, humming a soft tune as she placed dishes down.

"Good morning," Bibijaan said warmly. "Come, have breakfast."

Anaabiya smiled and sat down. "Good morning, Bibijaan."

She barely had time to take a sip of her tea when Humza strode into the dining area. He looked as put-together as always—his crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves, his hair slightly damp from a shower. If last night had affected him in any way, he sure as hell wasn't showing it.

He sat across from her, completely ignoring her presence.

Typical.

Anaabiya picked up a piece of toast and took a slow bite, pretending to be just as indifferent.

"Good morning, Humza," Bibijaan greeted.

Humza gave a small nod in acknowledgment but didn't spare Anaabiya a single glance.

Fine. Two could play at this game.

She reached for the sugar bowl, but before she could grab it, Humza beat her to it and slid it toward her.

Her brows lifted in amusement. "Oh? You do see me after all. Here I was, thinking I had turned into a ghost overnight."

Humza didn't look up from his plate. "You talk too much in the morning."

"Only in the morning?" she mused, stirring her tea. "I must be getting soft."

Humza exhaled sharply, cutting into his food with unnecessary force.

Bibijaan, unaware of the tension brewing between them, spoke up, "Anaabiya dear, you barely ate last night. Eat properly today."

Anaabiya smiled. "I will, Bibijaan."

But before she could take another bite, Humza's voice cut through the air.

"You didn't eat last night?"

The question was so abrupt, so out of character, that both Anaabiya and Bibijaan froze.

Anaabiya turned to him, delight twinkling in her eyes. "Why? Did your cameras not tell you that?"

His jaw ticked. "Just answer the damn question."

"Oh, so now you do care about what I eat?" She tapped her chin mockingly. "Interesting. For someone who doesn't love me, you sure are invested in my meals."

Humza picked up his glass of water, gripping it just a little too tightly. "I was just asking. Don't overthink it."

Anaabiya smirked. "Oh, don't worry. Overthinking is the least of my problems when I have a husband who claims he doesn't care about me but gets personally offended when I skip a meal."

He shot her a glare, but she wasn't done yet.

"Relax, Humza." She picked up a piece of toast and exaggerated the motion of taking a bite. "See? Eating. You can breathe now."

His expression darkened, but he didn't say anything.

"Wait, wait—let me guess," she continued, feigning deep thought. "You're about to say 'I don't care whether you eat or not', right?" She placed a hand over her chest dramatically. "But oh, Humza, your concern is showing. Careful now, or I might think you have a heart."

Bibijaan, blissfully unaware of their silent war, chuckled. "It's good that Humza worries for you. That's what husbands do."

Humza let out a sharp sigh and stood up, pushing his chair back with an irritated scrape against the floor. "I have a meeting."

Anaabiya beamed. "Aw, already running away? And here I thought we were bonding."

He shot her a last, unreadable look before walking out.

Anaabiya smirked to herself. Oh, he could pretend all he wanted, but she wasn't blind. His concern had slipped through, and she had caught it.

Game on, Mr. Humza.

The message below is from the previous version. I didn't delete it cause memories ♥️

Thanks to All those who have already read and voted on Zaamin's Story. As for those who haven't, I request you to please check it out. Please vote and comment to let me know if you like it. I'll really be grateful.

It's called Regretting The Revenge ♥

The story of Zaamin Bashar Ameen and Lubna Hashim

Edited on 7.3.2025