It was a quiet Monday morning.
Zoha sat in the company's garden lounge with Ezra on her lap, enjoying the rare sunlight. The little boy laughed as he reached for the butterflies that fluttered near the flowers.
Across the courtyard, a young marketing executive named Rayyan approached with a soft smile.
"Hey," he greeted, glancing at Ezra, "you're really good with him."
Zoha smiled back, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "He's my favorite little person."
"You're kind. Not many people would stay back after hours just to help with a baby."
She chuckled. "He makes it easy."
Rayyan sat down across from her. "Well… if you ever need help with Ezra, or just want someone to talk to—"
"Zoha!"
Zafar's voice thundered across the garden like a storm crashing down.
Rayyan stood up immediately.
Zafar was striding toward them in his charcoal suit, his face unreadable but his eyes burning with a silent fury. Ezra squealed happily at the sight of his father, but Zoha's smile faded.
"What are you doing here?" Zafar snapped, glaring at Rayyan like he was a threat.
"I was just talking to her—" Rayyan started.
"I didn't ask for an explanation. Leave."
Rayyan, flustered, nodded quickly and walked away. Zoha stood up slowly, holding Ezra.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice steady.
Zafar stepped closer. "I don't like people wasting your time during work hours."
"Or is it that you don't like men talking to me?"
His jaw tightened. "You're not here to make friends."
She stared at him. "Then what am I here for?"
He didn't answer. Just looked at her—really looked. His gaze softened for a second, filled with something dangerous. Something raw.
"I don't share what's mine," he finally said.
Zoha's heart skipped. "I'm not yours."
But even as she said it, her voice trembled.
He stepped closer, his eyes locked onto hers.
"You don't get it, do you?" he whispered. "I'm already losing control—and that scares the hell out of me."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving her there with a racing heart and a trembling soul.
That night, Zoha sat alone on her bed.
She thought about the way Zafar looked at her. The way his voice changed when he was angry… or scared. And the way her body reacted to it. Her heart didn't just beat—it screamed. For him. For the man who was breaking every rule he built around his own heart.
And maybe… just maybe, she was starting to fall for him too.