𝔇𝔞𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔇𝔲𝔰𝔨: 𝔐𝔞𝔫𝔢 𝔄𝔡 𝔙𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔲𝔪
A man to save, a dynasty to break and a love to die for.
Come dive into a modern and desi retelling of a beloved classic, Beauty and the Beast, part two of 'The Legacy Duet', Taimoor's story.
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𝕿aimoor Ali Haider Mughal's eyes were liquid nitrogen.
They were so cold, they threatened to burn me in an instant, a flash freeze that would turn my skin white and cause blisters to lift on the surface. I stared up at the powerful man looming over me, who had one hand on each of the armrests of my chair, and I held in a painful breath. There wasn't any air left in the office or the space between us. He'd used it all when he'd trapped me beneath his inescapable gaze.
"Did you think you'd win? That you could escape me?" I swallowed the lump that clogged my throat, blocking any words from escaping. When I didn't say anything, victory flashed through his expression. "I will always find you."
My heart fluttered as he stepped close, the energy of his proximity holding it prisoner, his lips only a few inches from mine, and for one terrifying moment it seemed like he was considering kissing me. I stared at him, my eyes stuck on his, my breathing erratic. He smirked, his gaze dipping towards my mouth. He could do it. Just like everything else, he'd do it abruptly and without permission, claiming my mouth as if it belonged to him.
"I own you."
"No!" I woke up with a gasp my hands thrown over my face in an attempt to escape him.
Exhaustion settled into every muscle, hovering over me like a thick blanket. I'd never felt so vulnerable, scared to death about what he was going to do. Would he agree? Or would he be the reason for my family's downfall? Sweat trickled down my temple and I shuddered. I could hear the rumble of thunder as a backdrop of the torrent of rain pummeling against the roof. I'd grown to loathe storms, especially when they happened at night.
I shuddered at the unfinished dream.I was afraid—the kind of fear one had when being chased by a beast. Fear of the monster. Fear he might harm me. A shiver crawled up my spine, slow and uncertain, like a child taking his first steps. It wobbled and dipped as it worked its way up my back, unsteady yet determined as I stumbled downstairs seeking a drink.
Another rumble of thunder only added to the jitters, goosebumps pimpling over every inch of skin. I was lost to the fear, my heart hammering to the point the thudding sounds echoed in my ears.
But the kitchen wasn't empty. Nazia sat alone at the table and in the near-dark, an untouched mug steaming in front of her. "Daania," she put her hand over her heart. "You startled me."
"Sorry, I was thirsty," I bit my lip and inched towards the counter.
"Can't sleep?" I nodded, pouring myself a glass of water. "What's he like?" I nearly asked who she was referring to before her meaning sank in. Pretending not to understand her question, I moved to stand near the full glass windows, watching the rivulets of water race down the icy slopes.
"Has Mama gone to sleep?"
"Yeah. I gave her some of Baba's sleeping pills," she didn't look at me. Her eyes were out the window, staring at the gardens she loved to maintain. Nazia uncrossed her legs and walked over to sit on the love seat, sipping from her mug."Quit trying to avoid the question. You've avoided saying anything about him. What's he like?"
