Zoya stood stunned, rooted on the spot. The voice was new to her, but she could still recognize its owner. She spun her head and looked at the man in front of her. The cocktail glass slightly shivered in her hand at the sight of him. She managed to form a small smile on her face as Manjeet walked forward in her direction and stood just some feet away.

"I was praying to get another chance of meeting you; and see how blessed I am." He smiled warmly at her. Zoya whispered a thank you to him for his compliment, and was about to turn around when he suddenly stepped in her way. She startled and took two steps back.

"Can I join you for a drink?" Manjeet raised his glass to her, asking her permission. All the while Zoya was actively searching for her so-called husband, who had forgotten her, alone in the crowded world of deceitful politicians and businessmen. She had no option but to accompany the man, who was gawking at her like she was a piece of fresh meat.

"Let's have a seat someplace where it is a little secluded; this place is too rowdy for a lady like you." Manjeet gestured her towards the candle-lit decorated small tables at the other corner, far from the bar counter.

Zoya wasn't sure about what she should do now, but she was sure that this man wouldn't leave her alone. Then her eyes fell on her handsomely suited husband, who was talking with his friends, smiling and almost forgetting about her existence. She let out a heavy sigh and proceeded towards a table with the young Education Minister.

Manjeet pulled out a chair for her like a gentleman. Once Zoya sat on the chair, he took the opposite chair and leaned back.

"So Miss Khan, how- ."

"It's Mrs., Mr. Singh. I am Mrs. Zoya Khan. Surely you must be aware that a girl is addressed as Mrs. after marriage," Zoya interrupted him in the middle before he could even start any conversation with her. She had been noticing him since the moment she met him at the entrance. He wasn't addressing her as a married woman should be addressed.

"Ahan, I know very well, Miss, oops, Mrs. Khan," Manjeet deliberately mistook her title again. "But I would like to call you 'Zoya', if it is okay with you. I honestly feel that your name is so beautiful that it does not need any add-ons with it," he blurted out flirtatiously. He was making Zoya uneasy by his reckless sudden bluntness. Once again she looked around to find Shahzeb, but he was nowhere in sight. She let out a tired breath and looked up at the man who had pinned his eyes on her. She took her drink and made herself more confident to face the wolf-of-a-man sitting in front of her.

"So Mr. Singh, why did you want to meet me again? As far as I am aware, we don't even know each other," Zoya asked courageously.

"Zoya ji, that's actually the real reason because of which I wanted to converse with you." Manjeet gulped down his drink. "I want to know you, everything about you. You seem a little mysterious to me; kind of a hidden safe, a treasure." His gaze was fixed on her, but Zoya didn't get scared this time. She was perusing him with narrow eyes. Manjeet was young, barely a couple of years older than Shahzeb, but more intimidating. His rough wild beard was making his personality more daunting. She was observing his wicked moves and listening to his over-friendly talks when her eyes caught something. Her gaze caught a glimpse of the man who was also looking in their direction. Zoya’s eyes widened in a blink of a moment, but it took her mind some mere seconds to comprehend and play with the intense situation.

She looked back at the man who was praising her moments ago. "What do you want to know Mr. Singh?" she asked as a small smile crept on her pink tinted lips.

"Tell me about yourself Zoya ji. What do you do apart from appearing like a trophy wife to Mr. Khan in social gatherings," Manjeet asked Zoya in mock seriousness. Her smile vanished at his comment. She took another gulp of her drink, which felt a little stingy in her choked throat. "I am an intern at the M.G.M.; I completed my PG in Human Psychology." She looked back at Manjeet Singh in proud combat, as if trying to oppose his earlier comment.

"Oh My God, Zoya ji. I knew it. I knew you couldn't be ordinary like any other girl. You are special, very special. If you don't mind, I would like to offer you something." Manjeet leaned over the table and bore his lustful gaze into Zoya's confused ones.

"What are you suggesting Mr. Singh? Please come straight to the point. I don't like playing games," she told him roughly. She again cast a glance back at the man who was observing her from the far corner.

"I want you to work at my hospital Zoya ji, as a consultant Psychologist." Manjeet generously offered her a job which could potentially attract any intern in the early stages of her career. Zoya’s mouth was agape; her eyes widened and her drink was held still just inches away from her open lips. She couldn't believe her ears, what they had just heard.

"Urm.., Mr. Singh, I told you I don't like playing games, so I would appreciate it if you would be more easy with me." Zoya was literally tired with people's mind games; Shahzeb was enough for her innocent mind to play with. She couldn't allow anyone to play with her feelings now. She was tired of being fooled by men.

"No, no, Zoya ji. I would never play with your feelings, I am serious here. Please, at least think about my offer. I am sure you must have heard the name of my hospital, 'The Alexis'," he named the best Neuro-Hospital of the city. Zoya's jaw literally dropped to the carpeted floor. This man has really gone mad, she thought. Who would appoint an intern as a consultant?

"Mr. Singh, I am really humbled by your generous offer, but I don't find myself deserving of the post. I am just a fresher; I do not have the experience required for this post. But thank you so much Mr. Singh. It's really so nice of you."

"Miss Zoya, see, we have a very experienced Psychologist already. You can join him, Dr. Shah, as an assistant and junior doctor. The department needs another doctor, and it would be the most beneficial step for your carrier." Manjeet Singh again retorted her, and this time he was quite successful in his task, as Zoya was really impressed by his friendly approach.

"Okay Mr. Singh, but I have to ask Shahzeb first. Then I will let you know about my decision. I hope you won't mind. Anyway, there is a month left of my internship. So I shall be able to join afterwards only," she told him in a soft voice. Zoya was really happy for the kick-start of her career. Shahzeb never talked with her about her future, about what she wants to do after completing her studies. She was thinking why she always compares all men with Shahzeb. Does it still affect her? Does she still wait for his small step towards her? Does it still matter for her to be his first priority, as she was before their marriage? Zoya shrugged off her head from the painful and unwanted cravings of her empty life.

"You can call me anytime Zoya ji. Here, take my personal card." Manjeet took out his personal card from the breast pocket of his black waistcoat and placed it on the table in front of Zoya. "This position is yours; you can take it whenever you want. I will inform my manager about your reference. But please do let me know when you would like to join. I will be waiting for your call." He was gazing at Zoya like his life depended on her reply.

Zoya took the card from the table and shoved it in her small clutch. She looked back at the man whose face was sparkling with delight in the glistening light. A winning smile had appeared on his majestic full lips. Zoya smiled back at him, and whispered a small thank you.

"Shall I consider us as friends now?" Manjeet asked her tenderly, and offered his right hand in front of her.

Zoya thought for a second before placing her fragile hand into his rough one. He squeezed her hand for a little longer than was necessary. Zoya immediately snatched back her hand and looked behind his back, where her husband was standing before. But to her surprise, the place was taken up by some other guest. Shahzeb wasn't in sight now. She looked at her mobile and stood up.

"Okay Mr. Singh, it was nice meeting you. I will let you know about my decision soon. I should get going now," Zoya told him and turned around. But to her dismay, she collided with a waiter who was passing by with a tray full of glasses filled with juice. The tray wobbled in his grasp and some liquid spilled out from a few glasses, drenching the waistline of her sari in juice. She gasped in shock.

"You bastard, are you blind or what?" Manjeet Singh proceeded in anger towards the waiter, who was now chanting "Sorry madam" to Zoya.

"It's okay Mr. Singh. Please, it was my mistake. I turned around without looking. Please let him go." Zoya prevented him from lashing out on the poor waiter.

"Are you okay Zoya ji?" the education minister asked her worriedly. His gaze fell on her drenched sari pleats and the wet front drape, which had adhered to the ivory skin of her slim bare belly, making her belly button visible through the thin net. He licked his dry lips.

"Let me help you Zoya ji." Manjeet snatched some tissues from a box on a nearby table and pressed one to her belly deliberately. Zoya, who was busy brushing the liquid on her sari, froze on her place.

It took her a nanosecond to fathom his wicked act. Zoya was about to shirk his hand away from her when someone pulled Manjeet back with rugged force.

"You f****** bastard," Shahzeb's coarse voice roared in the air. Zoya's eyes went wide in utter panic. She stepped ahead toward her furious husband to stop him.

Shahzeb's fist knocked at Manjeet Singh's face with full force, making him tremble back with a bleeding nose. Shahzeb went forward and grabbed Manjeet by his collar and was about to punch him again when Zoya stepped in to intervene, and placed her hands on Shahzeb’s chest to stop him. His fist stopped in the air for a second before he shrugged her away with a swift movement.

"You son of a bitch, how dare you touch my wife? I will break your filthy hands, you scoundrel," Shahzeb gruffed with fuming anger. He again shoved his fist in Manjeet's direction.

"Stop Shahzeb, please stop." Zoya shrieked in utmost urgency, distracting him for a mere moment, which was enough for Manjeet Singh to get back in action. He hit a blow on Shahzeb's face, causing his lower lip to get pierced.

In a short span of time, Abbas Malik reached the battle place, along with Ehsan Malik. Both men grabbed the animalistic young men from behind, holding them tightly. Some more guards arrived at the place and took control. Shahzeb was continuously swearing at the Education Minister and trying to loosen himself from the grip of the guards. Abbas Malik took Manjeet away from the scene, while Ehsan Malik tried to calm Shahzeb down.

"Shahzeb, cool down son. You are making everything complicated. Manjeet holds a big position in the party." Ehsan Malik made Shahzeb sit on a chair and tried to make him understand the gravity of the situation.

"I don't give a damn about his position uncle. I will kill that scumbag, I'm telling you. He has committed a grave mistake by spilling his filth on Shahzeb Khan's woman." Shahzeb’s breathing was hard and shallow. Zoya was shocked by his reaction. She had never seen him lose his control before. She was actually shivering by his savage outburst in such an elite event.

Meanwhile, Nasir had arrived to rescue them both from the media's attack. He parked their car at the back entrance of the farmhouse.

Zoya was still rooted on the ground like a marble statue. She did not know what to say, she had no strength left in her numb fragile self to form any words. Samira took her trembling cold hand in her warm one and squeezed it, as if assuring her by her presence.

Zoya looked at her friend, who was a newly wedded bride. "I am sorry Sam; I ruined your memorable day. Please forgive me. I am a cursed soul Sam; I shouldn't have attended this function." She hugged Samira tightly, and quietly sobbed on her friend's shoulder, while the bride softly patted Zoya on her back. Shahzeb was standing some feet away from them, watching his overly naive and futile wife with fury. His jaw was clenched and lips were perched in a thin line. He still had some drops of blood on his busted lower lip. He stepped forward and gripped Zoya’s arm in his powerful hands, spinning her around to face him.

"Let's go." Shahzeb securely took Zoya by her waist and proceeded towards the waiting car without glancing at anyone else.

As soon as they sat on the backseat of the spacious car, his driver-cum-guard started their journey back home.

Shahzeb shrugged off his suit jacket & untied his necktie and tossed them aside. He took a cigarette case and lighter from the door-side holder and lit a cigarette. After smoking two-three cigarettes in a row, he rested his throbbing head on the car seat and closed his eyes. He could sense his wife's muffled silent cries beside him. She was the reason behind his insane explosion. Shahzeb had never done such a bizarre act in his whole 26 years of life. He had never lost his sanity before, specially on such a small issue. But how could it be small when someone was touching his wife, his woman, inappropriately? His mind was on the overdrive, reviewing the past couple of hour's lunatic events, when his phone buzzed in the silence of the running car. He let out a frustrated breath and cursed the caller.

When he saw the name blinking on his phone, he massaged his temples with his tense fingers and touched the green button.

"Yes baba." Shahzeb answered the call. He knew that his father must be very disappointed with him for his unreasonable psychopathic flare-up on his party's State Education Minister. But he himself was unable to comprehend the reason behind his volatile actions. This woman was making him doing things that were alien to him.

"Come home and meet me in the diwankhana immediately," his father's authoritative voice boomed from the other side, making Shahzeb shut his eyes in discontent.

The line went dead after delivering the commanding statement to his ears.

Shahzeb threw his phone beside him, which made Zoya cling to the door in fright. He looked at her panicked form for a moment with bloodshot eyes, and ordered Nasir to speed up the car.

**********

It was already 12 in the night when they reached back at the manor. Nasir stopped the car in the foyer and hopped out to open the back door for Zoya. Shahzeb had already stepped out from the car, and was breathing heavily in the chilly night air. A pure-bred German shepherd barked on sensing his master's tense demeanor, trying to gain his attention. Shahzeb looked at the dangerous fighter dog, which seemed like a wolf in the darkness of the silent winter night. A guard patted his fur-coated back, which made him relax and sit back on his earlier place.

Zoya had already crossed the arched entrance of the stony old haveli and was walking towards the grand marble staircase to hide in the emptiness of her dull room. She was too scared to face Shahzeb or baba, or anyone else at this moment. She just wanted to slip off the heavy sari from her body and slip into her warm comforter for some much needed sleep. Her body was numb by today's events.

On the other hand, Shahzeb's feelings were completely opposite. His pulse was still raging with uncontrolled emotions, which was new to him. He was never irritated about Zoya's over-friendly nature before. But from the last few days, she had been really torturing him with her carelessness towards members of the opposite sex. Shahzeb had never experienced jealousy before, nor had he ever experienced anxiety before, as he was experiencing now-a-days just because of her innocent nature.

Shahzeb knew that today Manjeet Singh was simply flirting with her. That wicked man even tried to seduce Zoya by offering her a promising job with a handsome package.

Well, at least Shahzeb knew, she would never get impressed with Manjeet’s money; because money never excited Zoya before. She wasn't the kind of girl whom you could buy with extravagant gifts or diamonds.

Shahzeb had let out the last puff of his third cigarette in a row when Nasir gave him another reminder of his father asking to meet him in the diwankhana. He crushed the remaining cigarette with his leather shoe and proceeded inside.

"I never thought my own son would react in such a foolish way." As soon as Shahzeb entered the spacious sitting area, his father's rough voice boomed in the eerie silence. The older man's back was facing Shahzeb. He was rubbing his stubbled jaw harshly.

The older man turned around to look at his handsome and successful son, whose eyes were downcast in respect. Shahzeb’s crisp white dinner shirt was wrinkled and peeking out from his thin leather waistband. The top two buttons were undone, showing his naturally tanned clavicle muscles. He was looking a real mess at the moment. His father's graph of anger increased some more degrees.

"Look at yourself Shahzeb; you are looking like a roadside ashiq right now. Look what that little girl is doing to you. Is this what I have taught you? Is this what I've made you, that a tiny woman can easily wrap you around her little finger?" Baba retorted offensively.

"Shame on you Shahzeb Khan, you can't be my son." The older man spat angrily.

"Baba. That bastard was openly flirting with her. Do you think I should be playing mute when someone is literally trying to seduce my wife? Shahzeb Khan's wife? Do you think I can be such a coward to let anyone play with my izzat?" Shahzeb replied harshly. His father was noticing the lines of distress on his sharp facial features.

"Manjeet was flirting with her, or she was the one inviting him with her womanly charms to get some male attention? First she was seen with some random guy at CP, crying on his shoulder, and now this." The older man chucked his phone in front of Shahzeb. There on the screen was displayed the picture of Zoya and Manjeet Singh shaking hands, with smiling faces. Shahzeb shut his eyes for a millisecond before gazing back at the phone.

He knew that his father was exaggerating things a bit, albeit he had no words to stop the old man. At this moment he wanted to kill the source who had taken those photographs.

"Believe me Shahzeb, women are so desperate to gain male admiration on their beauty that they can resort to cheap acts to get it," his father stated brutally. The older man's voice was laced with disgust for the female species.

Shahzeb hated this thing about his father. Shahzeb had never been disrespectful to any woman in his whole life. But today he had no explanation in defense of his wife. He had to acknowledge that Zoya should have been more alert with that womanizing swine.

He didn't utter a word, just kept listening to his father with a heavy heart.

"You have been married to her from the last five years boy. She should be a satisfied, sophisticated woman of yours. Not some cheap, third class, low life girl with pent up desires, who is ready to throw herself on any man who praises her."

"Baba you are unfairly insulting her, she isn't like that." Shahzeb lowly defended her.

"No I haven't insulted her. She is normal, she is twenty two and she is desperate. Girls are very needy sometimes. It should have been you who she needs, not some random men at public places." His father's words worked like a hot and sharp arrow to slash his male ago. He snapped his head with fuming anger.

"You are invading into my personal space baba." Shahzeb roared like a wounded tiger.

"I don't give a damn for your personal space. A real man does not need feelings to keep his wife satisfied in and out of the bedroom." His father's voice was more high-pitched than before.

"Be a man Shahzeb Khan; make your wife peaceful and satisfied with you. I know you don't love her and don't find her attractive enough for you, but trust me." Baba stopped for a moment and bore his eyes into Shahzeb's midnight orbs. "For a man, physical intimacy doesn't need feelings." Baba hit him where he was most vulnerable.

Shahzeb clenched his jaw and turned to leave the cruel politician before some inappropriate words for his father would come out from his mouth.

"Let's get this straight Shahzeb Khan. I will not allow anyone to harm the honor of my name and my position; definitely not that idiot little girl." His voice once again made Shahzeb rooted to his place.

"Take control over her young man. I haven't raised you to be her slave."

This was what was needed for exploding Shahzeb Khan's volcanic anger.

This was what was needed to burn Zoya Khan into the dust of ashes.

**********