Zia Rashid Novels & Stories

Palm trees rustled softly around the illuminated infinity pool, their leaves whispering in the warm breeze, while the distant call of a night bird echoed across the endless dunes. Lila Hassan, a 25-year-old Moroccan-British heiress with smooth olive skin, long dark hair, and a voluptuous yet athletic body, stood by the edge of the pool in a sheer black robe. The warm wind pressed the delicate fabric against her hardened nipples and the slick heat between her thighs, making her shiver with anticipation. The heavy wooden door to the riad opened with a low creak. Zahir stepped out — a 6’10” Black Moroccan bodyguard forged from years of desert training. His dark skin gleamed under the moonlight,

He made his silent treatment hit twice as hard as usual. I bit down the tears and walked towards the duffle bags fit as ready for bed while Karish was taking his shower. I opened what they thought was mine looking for something to wear. Besides the sheer dress, there was nothing but lingerie and skimpy nighties. It looked like Arosh had managed another trick on me. I pulled on the lace dress I tried on earlier. It was too revealing but it won’t hurt. I managed to find some wipes so I started removing my makeup before changing. ***** .

Halima snaps and the Amhal girl keeps quiet. "I'm Aiza Lamido, Qifdi's friend and a fellow blogger. And i model part time. I'm a huge fan of yours." the lady that gushed the first time Lash entered says hugging Lash briefly. Lash returns the hug wholeheartedly. "This is my cousin Aidah. She's a poet and an upcoming artist." Aiza points at a shy looking girl who smiles shyly and waves at Lash. Lash waves back. "That's Rania. She's an all rounder. A brand influencer, a model, makeup artist, blogger and a motivational speaker." Aiza points at the most beautiful of the girls there.

Aisha looked up at him. “Hello, my name is Syed Roman Ali Gardezi. You are pretty,” he said in a deep seductive voice. No woman could ever put his charm down, they have to put their guards down instead. “I don’t talk to guys until they reach my ideal,” she said while touching his shoulder. Muaza was not listening as she was all lost in her book. “And what is your ideal?” he asked while raising an eyebrow. “I am a daughter of infamous business tycoon, Zaroon Khan, so I don’t date a commoner,” she said while moving her fingers in her hair.

Few of them had a huge crush on Esha – her dimpled cheek, lean figure and glistening eyes warranted nothing less. At a distance, tyres screeched loudly, and the spectators in the badminton court evaporated before Rishabh’s eyes. There was a loud crunch of gravel as a figure rushed towards the entrance door. It was Inspector Rashid, the highest-ranking police officer in Palampur. He was a small man with a broad chest and muscular arms. The full-rimmed black spectacles on his round face added a degree of suaveness to his personality. He was in his early fifties and inclined to be lazy, but like all lazy people who excel in coming up with cunning shortcuts, the inspector too was intelligent. Hi

Andrew said, enthusiastic about the fight. "Good evening. Welcome to The Patio at Rudy's. My name is Raine, I will be your server this evening. Can I start you guys off with a drink and appetizers?" the young girl with black hair and beautiful tanned skin, full lips, and hourglass body features says, holding menus and handing the, out to us. "Yes, can I have a glass of Chardonnay?" Phoebe says. "I'll have a beer." uncle Fred orders.

"You're doing the right thing." "Recently," Rashida sucked her bottom lip in hesitation. She averted her gaze to Nazmeera who in return, nodded, giving her the go ahead sign. "Zynah came to me with a problem," Rashida continued. "She wanted me to help, I was skeptical, but because she's my sister, I couldn't push her away." Bilal's jaw clenched, the veins in his neck throbbing. "Get to the point!"

"Explain yourself. Who is this man, and why is he here?" "This," Cassius said, his voice ringing through the hall, "is Detective Fred Monroe." "I’ve come to make a formal complaint," he declared, his voice unwavering. "Not just against this man, but against the Royal Family itself." The room fell silent, the tension thickening as Cassius’s words hung in the air. The Royal Family—Asher’s family—had always been beyond reproach. The mere mention of a complaint against them sent a ripple of shock through the chamber.