As soon as the plane landed in Islamabad, the fatigue of the journey was clearly visible on everyone's faces.
Because of the exhaustion, Salar and Zaheer decided to head straight to a hotel, while Rozeena prepared to leave for her home.
At the time of departure, she once again insisted that Salar visit her house, but he politely declined, because Zaheer had already been upset about bringing Rozeena along earlier, and he did not want to create any further complications.
Rozeena left with her driver, who had already been waiting for her, while Zaheer and Salar headed straight toward Islamabad's famous **Serena Hotel**, where Zaheer had already booked a room for them so they could rest peacefully and begin their work the next day with fresh energy.
They had barely stepped out of the airport when, at that very moment, Musfira and Aizal were also coming out, moving toward the exit. Once outside, they quickly booked a cab and began preparing to leave.
While getting off the plane, Salar had tried many times to catch a glimpse of that fairy-like girl, but she was nowhere to be seen.
For a moment, it felt to him as though she had been nothing more than a dream—an image that had brushed lightly against his heart and passed on.
He shook himself out of that unintentional feeling, as if trying to step out of his own thoughts, and then quietly moved forward with Zaheer. As the cool air outside touched his face, he took a deep breath, yet somewhere in his heart that unfamiliar glimpse still lingered like a faint light.
They were still on the road when suddenly the dense fog of December spread like a veil all around. Even a few steps ahead were not clearly visible. Silence and fog ruled the road when suddenly a car coming from the opposite direction at high speed collided with theirs.
A loud crash echoed, the screeching of brakes filled the air, and within moments chaos spread across the road. The impact was so sudden that Salar's head struck the front bonnet. Darkness clouded his vision for a few moments, while Zaheer was also jolted and received a slight injury on his forehead.
The car had stopped, and the surrounding traffic came to a sudden halt.
Within moments, a long line of vehicles formed, and the noise began to rise.
Among the cars behind them on the same road was the cab carrying Musfira and Aizal. They had just left the airport when the sudden commotion and the sound of brakes ahead startled them. As the cab driver slowed down and stopped, the sight of people running around and gathering on the fog-covered road made their hearts beat uncontrollably.
"It looks like there's been an accident ahead…" the driver said, peering through the glass.
Concern immediately appeared on Musfira's face, while Aizal's heart began to race with an unfamiliar fear. She herself could not understand why a strange uneasiness had suddenly settled within her, as if something hidden in this fog was about to change the course of their lives.
Looking ahead anxiously, Musfira listened as Aizal said softly,
"Musfira… I think we should go and check. Maybe someone needs help."
Musfira nodded immediately, and both of them quickly stepped out of the car and began making their way through the traffic and the crowd toward the accident site.
In the cold fog, even their breaths felt heavier, and their hearts pounded with an unknown fear.
As they drew closer, the worry on their faces became evident. Suddenly, Aizal's gaze fell upon the damaged car… and for a moment, her heart seemed to stop.
The same face.
The same person… whose bold gaze had annoyed her just a while ago.
Then her eyes shifted to Zaheer, who was trying to steady himself. Aizal immediately stepped forward,
"Sir… can we help in any way?"
Despite his discomfort, Zaheer composed himself and said,
"I'm fine… but it seems my friend is more seriously injured. He needs to be taken to the hospital immediately."
Hearing this, Aizal did not waste a second. She immediately moved toward the car. Salar was in a semi-conscious state, and blood was flowing from his head. For a moment her heart trembled, but the very next instant she steadied herself and quickly began cleaning the wound with her scarf.
Musfira stood beside her, helping as well.
Aizal quickly began first aid, wiping away the blood and tying a bandage.
Meanwhile, in his semi-conscious state, Salar slightly opened his eyes. He saw a blurred face before him… the same face he could not recognize, yet somehow felt.
As Aizal leaned forward to tie the bandage, suddenly Salar's hand rose involuntarily, and he held Aizal's wrist.
For a moment, Aizal was startled.
The unexpected touch displeased her.
Composing herself deliberately, she immediately freed her hand and, in irritation, lightly slapped Salar across the cheek.
Both Musfira and Zaheer watched in shock.
The very next moment, Salar slipped back into unconsciousness.
Aizal immediately steadied herself and, looking at both of them, said quickly,
"Come on… let's take him to the hospital first. We shouldn't waste time."
Zaheer agreed at once. Together, the three of them helped Salar into the car and rushed toward the nearest hospital.
Upon reaching the hospital, the doctors immediately took Salar into the emergency ward. A light bandage was also applied to Zaheer's forehead. After some time, the doctor came out and reassured them.
"Don't worry, there's no danger now. It's a minor injury; he will recover with rest."
Hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Zaheer moved toward Salar's room.
Aizal and Musfira said a brief goodbye and began to leave. At that moment, Musfira noticed that Zaheer's gaze lifted toward her for a brief second.
Musfira immediately turned her face away and quietly left the hospital with Aizal.
Outside, the cold December wind was blowing…
but tonight had brought with it a turning point whose impact was yet to unfold.
After two hours, Salar regained consciousness. As soon as Zaheer entered the room and saw the smile spread across Salar's face, he became furious.
"Don't you feel ashamed? I was so worried! I told you to let the driver handle the car, but no—you wanted adventure! Well, there's your adventure! You've injured your head, and now you're grinning.
Now tell me, what excuse are we supposed to give to Dada?"
Salar replied lightly, "Why do we need an excuse? I'm perfectly fine. Let's go."
Zaheer said irritably, "You're injured, and you don't even care!"
Salar smiled and said, "It's nothing, yaar. For Salar Shah, this kind of adventure is routine. Come on, sign the discharge papers. I'll change my clothes, then we'll leave."
Then he looked at the nurse and said,
"Oh nurse, could you please bring my clothes?"
The nurse looked at the handsome young man and nodded with a slight smile, while Zaheer turned abruptly and walked toward the reception.
When Musfira got out of the cab in front of her house, she smiled as she was leaving and said,
"I'll see you tomorrow at your father's birthday… take care of yourself and get some rest."
Aizal nodded lightly,
"You take care too."
Musfira waved her hand and walked toward her house, and the cab moved forward.
Within moments, Aizal was standing in front of her own house.
After paying the fare, she slowly walked toward the door. Today, she truly wanted to surprise her parents.
She quietly opened the door and stepped inside.
At that moment, she heard the faint sound of footsteps near the entrance.
Her father had just returned from the hospital. His white coat was draped over his arm, and the exhaustion of the entire day was clearly visible on his face. As soon as he lifted his head and saw Aizal standing there, he froze for a moment.
"Aizal…?"
There was both surprise and happiness in his voice.
Aizal smiled softly,
"Yes, Baba…"
Just then, her mother came out of the kitchen. Seeing her daughter in front of her, an uncontrollable joy spread across her face.
"Oh… you? You didn't even tell us!"
She quickly stepped forward and embraced her.
"May Allah always keep you happy… you've made our hearts so happy by coming like this."
Despite his fatigue, her father smiled and said,
"Truly, today has become beautiful."
Aizal looked at both of them with love.
The familiar scent of home, the affection of her parents, and the warmth of belonging filled her heart with a strange peace. All the exhaustion of the journey seemed to fade away in that very moment.
She quietly stepped inside…
into her home, her world, and her peace.
It was a cold and silent December morning when Salar Shah's black Land Cruiser, after covering a long journey, entered an influential village in the mountainous district of Khuzdar, Balochistan, where the Shah family's ancient and imposing haveli had stood for centuries. Nearly fifteen hours of travel had passed. The dust-filled air, golden mountains, and the vast silence stretching far and wide deepened the grandeur and authority of the place.
As soon as the car stopped in front of the tall iron gates of the Shah haveli, an aura of dominance spread through the atmosphere. The haveli was no less than a fortress. High walls, a vast courtyard, and loyal servants standing at the gate bore witness to the family's long-standing rule.
When the black Land Cruiser entered the spacious courtyard, a thin layer of dust spread in the air. Despite the long journey, the same authority and confidence were evident in Salar Shah's demeanor. As the car stopped, a servant stepped forward and opened the door. Salar got out with composure, and Zaheer followed him silently.
Both entered through the main door. The spacious hall was, as always, immersed in regal silence. The ancient portraits on the walls and the heavy chandeliers stood as witnesses to the family's old grandeur.
In the center of the hall, seated on a heavy chair with dignity, was the white-bearded elder holding a rosary—**Mukarram Shah**. The same old authority was visible on his face, and his eyes reflected years of dominance.
Sitting on the sofa beside him was **Zainab Subhan Shah**, in her characteristic prideful manner. Expensive attire, a raised chin, and eyes that always considered themselves superior to others. Mukarram Shah had supported her, but with time, her tone carried more superiority than gratitude.
Nearby, her son **Azeem Subhan** sat indifferently, absorbed in his phone.
And on the other side…
**Natasha Subhan.**
As soon as her gaze fell on the door and Salar entered, her breath paused for a moment.
Her heartbeat quickened uncontrollably.
Since childhood, she had been infatuated with Salar Shah. His authority, his silence, his seriousness—everything about him drew her in. Seeing him in front of her after so long, her eyes lit up involuntarily.
But…
Salar's gaze did not stop on her at all.
He walked straight toward Dada Jan, as if everyone else present in the hall was insignificant to him.
Salar Shah had always been like this. Beautiful girls tried to come close to him, but he had never gone after anyone. He neither needed nor desired such attention. There was a cold indifference in his nature that often forced people to keep their distance.
Natasha's eyes remained fixed on him, yet Salar did not even cast a passing glance at her.
"**Assalamualaikum, Dada Jan.**"
He stopped respectfully before Mukarram Shah.
"**Wa Alaikum Assalam, Salar.**"
Mukarram Shah looked at him carefully.
"How was the journey?"
"Safe. There was a minor accident, but everything is fine now."
Mukarram Shah stood up and came closer to him.
"The heir of the Shah family must always remain strong."
A slight gleam appeared in Salar's eyes.
"I will never be weak."
Everyone in the hall was silent.
Natasha's gaze was still fixed on him…
but for Salar, she was just another presence—nothing more.
He was used to a world where people tried to come close to him…
but he never let anyone get close.
After speaking with Dada Jan, Salar turned, and his gaze fell upon Zainab Subhan Shah. She straightened slightly, as if all her attention was now focused on him. A faint smile appeared on her face, and her tone softened with artificial sweetness.
"Come, Salar… sit here."
Her voice no longer carried cold pride but a flattering warmth.
Salar stepped forward and sat on the nearby sofa. Zaheer stood beside him respectfully. When Mukarram Shah's gaze fell on him, a faint recognition appeared in his eyes.
"Dada Jan, you already know Zaheer…" Salar said lightly.
Mukarram Shah nodded .
"Yes, Dr. Zaheer… the one who has made a name for himself through hard work since childhood."
He said kindly, then turned toward Zainab and the children,
"This is Zaheer, Salar's close friend. By profession, he is a doctor and a very sensible young man."
Zaheer immediately greeted respectfully,
"Assalamualaikum."
"Wa Alaikum Assalam," Zainab Subhan Shah replied with a formal smile, though her gaze did not linger on Zaheer for long. Her real focus was Salar.
Salar formally introduced them,
"This is Zainab Khala… and this is my cousin Azeem Subhan Shah… and Natasha."
Zaheer bowed his head politely
"It's a pleasure to meet you all."
Azeem nodded slightly, but his gaze remained mostly on Salar. A strange jealousy stirred within him. He knew that while he himself lived a careless and misguided life, his cousin Salar Shah had already reached heights of power, wealth, and respect at a young age.
Zainab Subhan Shah now turned her full attention toward Salar. She observed him carefully.
"MashAllah… you've changed a lot. I've heard your business has expanded greatly."
Salar replied briefly,
"It's going."
"It's going?" Zainab smiled faintly.
"Not just in the city, Salar… your business is now recognized worldwide. The entire responsibility of the Shah family now rests on your shoulders.
After Mukarram Shah, you are the heir after all. The way you've taken the business to an international level is truly admirable."
There was clear flattery and self-interest in her tone. She knew very well that Salar Shah was not just the heir of this family, but also a successful businessman whose wealth and influence extended far and wide.
Nearby, Azeem Subhan Shah had now put his phone aside. He watched Salar silently for a few moments. A strange bitterness rose within him.
A faint smile appeared on his lips, but the sharpness in his tone was evident.
"Cousin… I've heard you have businesses in both Dubai and Islamabad? You're rising quite fast…"
Salar cast a brief glance at him.
"Hm."
Just one word… yet with such composure and indifference that Azeem felt his question lose all meaning.
On the other side, Natasha sat silently, listening to everything. A strange light filled her heart. Since childhood, she had been captivated by Salar Shah's personality, and seeing him now made her heart beat uncontrollably.
Zainab glanced at Natasha for a moment, then turned back to Salar.
"Now you should spend more time here. After all… all of this is yours."
Salar showed no particular reaction to her words.
He understood such looks and tones very well—ones that changed with self-interest.
"We'll see…"
he replied briefly.
The artificial smile remained on Zainab's face, but a clear thought lingered in her mind—
if Salar Shah was the sole heir of this house and property…
then she would not miss the opportunity to make him a part of her family.
And Natasha
sat silently, thinking in her heart that perhaps one day, there might be a place for her in Salar's cold and indifferent gaze.
The night had deepened. Silence spread through the corridors of the haveli, yet there was a strange restlessness in Salar Shah's mind.
He stood on the balcony, looking at the dark mountains in the distance, when suddenly he remembered that girl in white…
that soft voice, that firm hand that had maintained its boundary even when he was unconscious.
Salar closed his eyes.
"Who was she…?"
At that very moment, the sound of footsteps echoed in the courtyard below…
and fate once again began to move toward him in silence.
The story had only just begun.
**If you're waiting for the next part, write "Present" in the comments.**