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Chapter 6: In Search of the Fallen King
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2026-04-17 10:10:44Three days.For three long days, Ariyan hadn’t called anyone. No one in the penthouse had slept. Dark circles shadowed Raisa’s eyes as she stood on the balcony like a ghost, staring into the distance. Jarif had scoured every alleyway, every hotel, and every possible corner of the city. Maira, through her own tears, tried her best to comfort Raisa.
"I’m going to find him," Raisa said suddenly. "I think I know where he might be." "Where?" Maira asked, hope flickering in her v
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The King's Sinful Obsession Chapter 31: New Path, Old Shadow
Five years had passed. The city of Dhaka had changed dramatically. New flyovers, wider roads, taller buildings. Arian's small apartment remained as it was, but the family had grown. Abrar was now fifteen. Standing at the school gate, he looked like a reflection of Arian's own childhood—sharp eyes, straight shoulders, a hint of pride in his stride. But there was one difference: in Abrar's eyes, there was no venom of intimidation, only curiosity and distant dreams.Nurul Islam Khan was now completely free. His prison term was over, all cases settled. His Abrar Tea Stall had transformed into a small café in Dhanmondi, named Dadar Addda (Grandfather's Hangout). He sat there himself, brewed tea, told stories. Many of his old enemies were now his customers. Some had forgotten their hatred and shook his hand; others still stared from a distance. Nurul Islam paid them no heed. He was now only a grandfather, no longer a monster.Arian had become a partner in a law firm. His
The King's Sinful Obsession Chapter 30: Ten Years Later
The heavy iron gates of the prison slowly opened. Half past seven in the morning. It was the end of February; the mist was clearing, and light was breaking through. The man who had entered prison in handcuffs ten years ago was walking out free today. Nurul Islam Khan. White Punjabi, white turban, no shackles on his hands, no chains on his feet. No guards behind him. Ahead, a car waited, and Abrar.Abrar was now ten years old. He was in fifth grade. He ran toward his grandfather. "Dada! Dada! You've come!"Nurul Islam lifted his grandson into his arms. After so many days, he could hold someone of his own free will. His body did not have the same strength as before, but he held Abrar with both hands. "I've come, my child. I won't go anywhere anymore. I won't leave you."Abrar kissed his grandfather's cheek. "Father said I have no classes today. We'll all go out together. Dada, you agree, don't you?""Yes, my child. Yes."Arian and Raisa ste
The King's Sinful Obsession Chapter 29: The Father's Seat
The letter had arrived one week before Abrar's first birthday. The prison authorities had informed them that, under special consideration, Nurul Islam Khan would be granted twelve hours of leave. Guards would accompany him, but there would be no obstruction in performing his duties as a grandfather. Arian had started crying when he read the letter. Raisa was breastfeeding Abrar at the time; looking at her son's face, she told her husband, "Tell Abbu we're waiting. We'll have everything ready."That week, the small apartment—so much smaller than the penthouse—buzzed with even more activity than usual. Mayra came to decorate the house, Emilie placed an order for sweets, Zarif did the shopping. This time, Zarif was spending from his own earnings—not from Arian's money as before. His small business was doing well; he had found his own footing.In the center of the room, a cake was set on the table. Bouquets of flowers, balloons, colorful ribbons. A separate chair had b
The King's Sinful Obsession Chapter 28: Letters from Prison
The days seemed to fly by after the naming ceremony. Arian now went to the office every morning and returned in the afternoon to place his hand on Raisa's belly, feeling Abrar's movements. At night, the two of them sat on the balcony drinking tea, ignoring the city's noise and immersing themselves only in their own stories. Every day, Arian received a new letter—written by his father.These letters from prison had started arriving after the naming ceremony. The first letter came three days later, handwritten on folded paper, with the prison's seal on the envelope. Arian had been afraid to open it at first. What had his father written? Complaints? Accusations? Or something else entirely?Despite his fear, he opened it. And his eyes widened.---The First Letter"My son Arian,Seeing you well makes me very happy. In these difficult times in prison, your smiling face is my strength. Tell Raisa not to sleep all day—she should walk ar
The King's Sinful Obsession Chapter 27: Father's Name
Arian stood before the heavy iron gates of Gazipur Central Prison. Half past seven in the morning; the sun hadn't fully risen. Mist lingered all around. A few days ago, he had submitted a formal application for the naming ceremony. The prison authorities had finally agreed—Nurul Islam Khan would be released from prison for one hour, under guard, solely to attend the naming ceremony. Arian himself could hardly believe that permission had been granted so easily. Perhaps because of his father's good behavior, perhaps because of Arian's new image, perhaps out of sympathy—whatever the reason, today he would bring his father home for his child's naming ceremony.Behind him, Zarif waited with the car. Raisa was at home waiting; Mayra and Emilie were getting things ready. Arian went alone to the visitors' office. He showed the documents and signed. A few minutes later, the inner door opened. Handcuffed, ankles shackled, two guards behind him—Nurul Islam Khan walked out. He wore sun
The King's Sinful Obsession Chapter 26: The First Page of Married Life
After the wedding, Arian had returned the keys to the penthouse. He did not want to build his married life in a luxurious house built with his father's old money. Their new address was a small apartment in Dhanmondi—three stories, one elevator, two pots on the balcony: one with tulsi, the other with roses. Zarif and Mayra had moved into the building next door. Emilie lived a little farther away but came every morning for tea. She no longer set traps; now she watered the flower pots.Half past seven in the morning. Raisa was frying eggs on the stove, with toast and tea beside her. Arian sat on the sofa flipping through the newspaper. He had found a job—legal advisor at an NGO. The salary was modest, but the respect was great. No one called him a monster anymore. They called him Mr. Khan."When will you go to the office today?" Raisa asked, setting the plate on the table."Half past nine. I need to see Zarif first. He's starting a new business and wante
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