Shameless Husband

Her smile vanishes at the mention of her younger sister's name. She reluctantly answers. "Katie..she was discharged from the hospital Saturday morning...thank you for asking."

I was intrigued to further question her regarding the shooting incident. Yet her discomfort at discussing this causes me to refrain from delving anymore.

Mr. Mirza cuts the uncomfortable atmosphere short. "Rachael, if you ever have time to spare, I'd like you to acquaint Hazel with the tour of Griffith. "

"Oh yes of course. Rachael affirms, She then rummages through her purse and draws out a card, and hands it to me. "You just ring me up to let me know and I'd be happy to schedule a tour for you."

I thank her with a lack of enthusiasm and slip the card into my red embroidered clutch. I saw no reason for me to attend college anymore. I had attempted to pick college as an excuse to hinder an arranged marriage which ended up occurring anyway.

"Rachael, debriefing in twenty minutes." Grigori ends up interrupting sternly. "Let's go."

"Well it was nice to see you again," she states to me as she hastily arises and shakes my hand. "Come on, Arielle. Mummy's got an important meeting to attend."

"I don't wanna go." Arielle whines. The child pecks me on my cheek with a kiss, earning a chuckle from me.

Grigori steps up and rudely snatches her out of my lap. She starts crying as he strides out swiftly with her over his shoulders.

"Meeting at 8 pm on a Sunday ?" Mister Mirza inquires of Rachael. She appears uncomfortable again. "It's an urgent matter. My apologies for the short stay.

****

A half-hour later, the doors to the banquet hall burst open with a loud thud. The attention of the entire banquet hall aims at the new arrivals. On the stroll, a group of brawny young men dressed stylishly in white tuxedos and black ties. They appear to be of Middle Eastern descent. They are hooting and laughing mischievously as they point fingers in Imran's direction. Quickly, they strut over.

"Imran ?! What is the meaning of this?" Mister Mirza furiously questions his son. "Did I not warn you that your hooligan friends weren't allowed ?"Imran groans face palming as we glimpse ahead at the young men approaching. They are led by a guy more stylishly dressed than his counterparts.

He's wearing a gold chain necklace, his fingers are bejeweled with gold and silver rings. As he arrives closer, he swiftly takes off his expensive flashy black shades. The gesture reveals kohl-lined dark eyes which are promptly fixed on me.

His smile has vanished as he almost pauses mid-step as our gazes connected. The other guys rush past him and up onto the stage. They are embracing Imran and throwing him playful punches. Mister Mirza sighs and steps down from the stage. I don't know why he's left me alone with these guys. I wished he hadn't done that.

"Look at you bro! "

"Damn! he's all hitched at this age hahaha!"

"Congrats bro! "

"Damn, Narmi! Your wife is a 10/10 "

"You have done good bro!"

I blush hearing their compliments and look away to find the gold chain guy standing right in front of my view. He's staring at me strangely as if he's trying to solve a puzzle. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and avert my gaze onto my lap.

"Shut up all of you !" He suddenly barks in annoyance. The other guys quiet down quickly. He proceeds to. "Narmi, man you thought you could fool me?"

Imran rolls his eyes, he looks at him with apparent boredom before he speaks. "Well..since you guys are here, help yourselves to the buffet."

All the other guys besides the one with the gold chain, scatter toward the buffet. People are eyeing them in apparent distaste. Gaze still fixed upon me, the gold chain guy orders Imran "Introduce me."

"This is Yasir" Imran sighs pointing toward the guy before pointing toward me. "And this is Hana Kashani."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hana." Yasir breathes heavily, extending out his hand to me.

"Errr... it's Hazel actually" I correct him as I shoot Imran an irritable look.

I don't shake Yasir's hand.

"Shake his hand !" Imran glares at me. Yasir chuckles and refuses to withdraw his hand.

I don't want to shake his hand, he's not my mahram. I would be sinning if I shook his hand.

" I can't, it's haram," I replied obviously.

"The fuck did you say ?" Imran yells causing multiple people to look in our direction. I stare back at him in shock and disbelief.

He lowers his tone to audible enough for only Yasir and me "when I fūcking order you to do something, you fūcking do it."

"Go on sweety, shake it" Yasir coaxes, he's grinning like he's won the lottery.

I feel sick being subjected to such an embarrassing situation. Not wanting to draw more attention, I hesitantly placed my hand in his beefy one and he immediately clasped his other hand over it. I don't bother masking my grimace, his hands feel soft and clammy.

"Now that wasn't so hard was it ?" Yasir whispers, there is no mistake of the lust evident in his eyes as his thumb presses down and rubs circles over my skin.

I try freeing my hand, but he refuses to release it. Exasperatedly I look over at Imran who's eyeing us with mild curiosity.

Is he finding this entertaining? What the fudge is wrong with him?

What a shameless husband is he.

"Yasir, I need a word with you man. I'll explain what's going on." Imran gets up and steps down from the stage. "Come on man, outside with me for a smoke."

"Oh, this better be good," Yasir replies, he squeezes my hand, and then lets's go with a wink. I feel complete repugnance with this show of behavior and make no effort to hide my disgusted expression. With anger, I watch them slip out through one of the doors leading to a balcony. I'm very much a fuming mess right now. Scrubbing my hands against my dress, I imagine punching Imran in the face for subjecting me to such humiliation.

I'm his wife, how could he allow another man to touch my hands like that?

"Hazel, you must be starving, sitting there on that stage for so long." Mister Mirza's voice obstructs my chain of thoughts. I see Leila standing behind him, offering me a sympathetic smile.