Chapter 2

Later on, Ayaan was with his coursemate, Faizan, chatting. Faizan was a simple blithe fellow. He Wasn’t as handsome as Ayaan, yet charming.

“Were you able to finish the novel?” Faizan asked, tugging down the edge of his trousers.

“Sure I did. I had started to read the novel for days now,” Ayaan replied, scrolling through his phone.

“Have you read the “Wandering Falcon” too?” Faizan asked, sitting up and looking at Ayaan.

“Not yet, it’s my next target though.”

At that moment, Liyana came along angrily.

“I hate you so much, Ayaan,” she blustered, pointing an angry finger at Ayaan. Ayaan looked at Faizan, their eyes met then they stared at Liyana in confusion. “You are super irritating, egocentric, selfish, self-centered, and a freaking maniac. Argh...!” she groaned.

“Hey, you watch it, what’s your problem?” Faizan rebuked.

Liyana cast a -don’t-interfere-in-my-business look at Faizan then glared back at Ayaan. Ayaan didn’t utter a word, he shook his head and focused on his phone to get done with the assignment he was on with.

“I’m talking to you!” she groaned, ignited by his overlook and snatching the phone from his hand. She flung it to the ground.

Ayaan sprang up. Liyana felt a sudden pang in her heart. She cowered back from him, feeling the banging of her heart as it continued hitting hard against her chest. Ayaan was finally angered. He glared with dark squinted eyes at her. He was burning inside, yet cautioning himself to do nothing. “You have crossed the limit, Liyana!” he groaned, trying to calm his anger. “What was that for?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, taking a careful stance toward him. “I hate you for every sight I make of you, don’t you get it? Why are you always behind my displeasure? It hurts to the core, Ayaan. Stop frustrating me!” she rebuked, glaring at him.

She turned to leave. Deep down, she was scared. She had thought he was going to either slap her or say the worst to her. She as much as wished to see the other side of him, but got disappointed. She reached for the phone on the ground.

“Argh!” she growled and smashed the phone with her high heels. She looked back at Ayaan with a frown. She could still see the sign of anger in his eyes and that was exactly what she wanted. She left. Faizan went to get the phone while Ayaan pick up his backpack to go home.

“The phone is damaged,” Faizan said, returning to Ayaan. “Ayaan, what was her reaction about?”

“It beats me, man. I don’t understand why she’s always furious at me. I don’t remember offending her,” Ayaan said.

“It’s okay, dude. I will fix it for you,” Faizan offered.

“Thank you, man, I will see you tomorrow,” Ayaan bade and headed on to his power motorcycle.

Ayaan reached home, seeing his grandma in front of their magnificent grand bungalow house. He alighted from his power bike and motioned down to the grandma.

“Salaam alaikum, naaniji!” he saluted and headed inside.

“Walaikum salaam!” the grandma responded, following him inside. “What happened, son? I have been trying to reach you.”

Ayaan dropped down on the couch in the living room without a word. He was deeply bitter. The grandma sat beside him.

“Talk to me, son,” the grandma urged, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“She smashed my phone,” he commented.

“Who smashed your phone, son?”

“Who else, but Liyana? That lady is driving me nuts.”

“What did you do this time?” the grandma queried.

“If only I knew, naaniji. She is just acting out of reason,” Ayaan said, trying to keep his cool.

“Why don’t you find out what her indifference is with you?” the grandma suggested, sitting right.

“How do you mean, naaniji?” he asked, sitting up and looking at his grandma. He seems interested and strangely, he found his spirit lifting like his long lasted problem is finally finding a solution.

“When you know she’s in a good mood. Go to her and try making her speak out the reason behind her uncalled-for attitude towards you. If you did something wrong, you will be able to find out,” she explained.

“I hope it works, naaniji,” he sighed, relaxing back on the couch.

“Should I have done that? What then was he doing to me? If I don’t act rude then I will expect myself to drool at his sight,” Liyana thought, walking around her room. She opened her wardrobe, bringing her dress to the bed. “The fear, the strange emotions that arise when we are close, the unwanted desires, and most especially, the effect of his emotional eyes that seems to attract me,” she stopped. “Mhm…!” she sighed. “I can’t fall for his enchantments. No,” Liyana convinced herself, tying her hair in a ponytail. She was getting ready to go freshen up after returning from college. “The innocent guy doesn’t even know I was interested in the novel. Oh, poor guy. I think I overreacted,” she muttered to herself, drooling in regret.

The door to her room creaked open and her mother walked in.

“You aren’t ready yet?” the mother’s sudden question jolted Liyana back to reality as she shook slightly, reeling to face her mother.

“Oh-oh! Um, Mother, I will be out soon,” she said, rushing down to the bathroom.

“Silly daughter of mine,” the mother smiled and went out.

The aquamarine pool shimmered with the rays of the sun. There was a garden at the back of the house that extended to the front house, dazzling at every ray of the sun. A neutral swing was beside the arched entrance to the garden. There were different species of floral plants in the garden, most of which include; Roses in red and pink, daffodils, daisies, primrose, chamomile, and lots more. The garage was choked up with different cars.

That was the grand mansion of the Khawaja family. Rayan, the only son of Asad Khawaja, a well-known and respected multi-millionaire was relaxing close to the gleaming pool. He was relaxed on a beach chair with his legs stretched on it. He was surrounded by over five armed men in black suits. Half-clothed ladies were seen frolicking around him, hollering, smoking, and drinking themselves wild. Rayan was high. He had a stick of blackwood cigar stuck between his index and middle finger. As the ladies all play romantically around him, so was he, smiling widely. The celebration, the jubilation, and the drug intake created such an honor-disgusting atmosphere.

Rayan Khawaja, popularly known as R K, was the only surviving child of his parents, Mr Asad and Mrs Uma Khawaja. Rayan was over the age of 35 already, yet he never cared about settling down. The issue of which worries his parents to the core. Whenever the issue of marriage was brought up, Rayan will always discard the discussion. He would rather spend the rest of his life being a playboy than settle down with a single lady and remain faithful to her. No man in their right senses will ever wish for that. He always thought. His father promised to make him the CEO of his largest firm if he agrees to get married soon. To the greatest surprise, yet expected shock of his parents, Rayan told his father to go to hell with his offer. Besides, he was already a CEO in his gambling business. From then onward, the parents seized in bringing up the issue of marriage to the hearing of their son. There was even a time his mother brought the daughter of her friend for him to marry. He accepted the lady at first. When the lady was summoned to come to spend some time with the family to get to know Rayan better, she left the next day.

At night, beautiful Saleema was peacefully sleeping in the guest room when she noticed someone’s presence in the room. She blinked severally to clear her eyes of sleep. She didn’t see anyone. The moment she closed and opened her eyes again, Rayan was towering over her. She gasped. Before she could utter a word, she found herself losing to the lust of Rayan. He covered her mouth with his left hand while caressing her flawless body to get her in the mood. She couldn’t shout even though she wanted to. The tingling sensation and the pleasure derived from his touch made her lose her senses. She gave up herself to him. As if regaining her senses in the morning, Saleema regretted her actions. Since they were going to get married anyway, she pushed off the thought of guilt. As the hours slowly died down, Saleema stepped out of her room to go get some fresh air. There, she saw her supposed would-be husband amid his flirtatious escorts. The sight alone aroused her anger. Being the jealous type, she moved out of the house never to come back. Rayan’s parents pitied their future of never having a grandchild to call theirs. The mother would cry most nights for her ill luck while the father would always be awake to do the consolidation and assure his wife that everything would be fine.

At the market. Liyana was done buying what she needed. She was waiting along the road for either a bus or a rickshaw. She hailed many rickshaws that passed by, yet none favored to stop for her as it was all filled up with passengers. It was midday, so everyone was in a hurry to go back home. The weather wasn’t helping matters too. It was cloudy. Hopefully, it will rain soon, but that wasn’t what anyone would wish for.

“Oh, Lord, what kind of punishment is this?” she stamp each of her feet on the ground, she moved back and forth, wearing an I-am-going-to-cry face. It was tiring waiting under the cloudy sky. At her point of waiting, Ayaan was riding along.

“Hey, please stop!” she hailed a coming rickshaw and fortunately, it stopped for her at a few distance. In a hurry to get to the rickshaw, she stumbled against a stone and her basket of foodstuff flew into the air, strewing the content on the road.

“Ow…!” she exclaimed, falling backward, she closed her eyes, then a strong arm came around her waist. He held her from falling. She opened her eyes in an instant and turned a curious look at her savior. It was Ayaan. Her heart hit her ribcage like a drumstick hitting the drum and creating a blaring sound. They were both lost under each other’s gaze. Her stomach was flustered. She quickly stood upright, looking everywhere but his eyes. She pulled her hair behind her ear, staring at her scattered foodstuff.

“Are you fine?” Ayaan asked, standing in front of her.

She turned icy cold eyes on him. “What do you care?” she said coldly, taking a few steps away from him and darting her eyes around the messed up pavement with her arms akimbo. Vehicles squash some of the fruits and other items that came rolling to the road. Pedestrians tried not to match any. “It would be a thing of joy for you to watch me fall, right?” she stated, turning her face to Ayaan.

“If it was, would I have held you?” he said calmly, helping her to pick up her basket.

She looked back to her littered foodstuff, most of which can never be picked. She checked her change purse and discovered only her transport money was left in it.

“Oh, Lord! What do I do now,” she began thinking while Ayaan was left to watch her. “Mother is certainly going to skin me alive if I get home with nothing. What was the essence of my coming to the market in the first place? Ugh! That bloody rickshaw is responsible for this,” Liyana lamented silently.

“Do you need my help?” Ayaan asked, stretching her basket to her. She swiveled her head abruptly to him in surprise.

“How can I need his help? Do people request from their enemies,” she thought to herself, avoiding his eyes.

“Can I help you?” he repeated.

“I will rather go home empty-handed than seek the help of my enemy,” she continued thinking. She collected her basket and turned to go. He held her wrist. She looked at her held wrist then looked at him.

“Let’s go back to the market,” he said and pulled her along.

Author’s note 💖💖💖

Hey, beautiful readers! What’s new? What are your thoughts on this one? Leave a comment, so I will know what your expectations are of the story. Let’s continue.