Zeher-e-Ishq
Episode 1
By Munaza Niaz
The entire sky was blanketed in black clouds. Thick drops of water were pelting against the van’s windshield like stones. There was darkness everywhere, as if the ink of the night had swallowed all the light in the world. The van’s tire collided with a rock, and it jerked violently. Her hands were bound with ropes; the sudden jolt caused her head to crash against the wall of the van. Her mouth was sealed with tape. Just then, a blinding flash of lightning split the sky, and her breathtaking face was momentarily illuminated in the pale glow. Her wheatish, gold-toned skin, black eyes wide with terror, and long, unbound hair spilling far past her waist lay scattered in disarray. Her clothes were splattered with mud. The wind outside grew even more ferocious, like a raging storm. She struggled frantically to free her hands, but in vain. Exhausted and defeated, she collapsed onto the floor, two silent tears slipping from her eyes. She had no idea where she was being taken; all she knew was that this night was the most terrifying night of her life.
The vehicle screeched to a halt. Two men stepped out and dragged her roughly into the open. The rain began to lash down on her fiercely. The pair of men firmly gripped her and hauled her down into the basement of a mansion-like estate. Down, down deep where not a single shred of light existed. They shoved her inside and slammed the heavy door shut. She didn’t even have shoes on her feet. She cast her gaze around in every direction, but could see absolutely nothing. Her wet hair clung tightly to her face, and water droplets dripped incessantly from the strands. She had barely taken a single step when the sound of heavy footsteps reached her ears—close, very close—and then the door flew open with a violent jolt. There were two of them. One swiftly illuminated the room, while the other? He advanced toward her, venom and terror burning in his eyes. Tall, clad entirely in black, with thick dark hair falling completely over his neck, his expression was cold and blank. He didn’t utter a word; he simply walked straight up to her and, with a sharp jerk, ripped the tape off her lips. She winced, stumbling backward.
"Who are you? Why have I been locked up here?"
"You will be told only as much as is necessary for you to know."
The coldness in the man's eyes and his steady, level tone carried an eerie weight.
"I'm not afraid of anyone! Tell me who you are, answer me!" she demanded angrily.
He took a single step closer. "Fear will come when I actually show it to you... Right now, all of this is just the beginning."
Shocked and unnerved, she took a step back. "I'm not anyone's enemy. You've made a mistake."
The man cast a piercing glance at her and signaled the person standing beside him. That man stepped forward and untied her hands. "If she tries any tricks, shoot her."
Her mouth dropped open in absolute disbelief. Without another word, both men exited, slamming and locking the door behind them.
"No, no, please don't do this! Open the door, let me go, I haven't done anything!" she pounded on the door in a frenzy of panic.
Her cries echoed off the cold walls and bounced back. The darkness of the basement began to swallow her whole. Her body trembled with dread, but there was no one there to hear her pleas. Weeping, sobbing, and screaming, she slumped onto the cold floor. Wrapping both arms around her knees, she buried her face and broke into heart-wrenching sobs.
College Entrance.
Time: 8:45 AM
She glanced down at her watch, then toward the gate. "This girl will never arrive on time. She's a walking definition of chronic lateness," she muttered under her breath.
Five more minutes ticked by, and her patience snapped. She pulled her phone from her bag and dialed. The call was picked up on the very first ring, but no voice came through—only...
Ho haaaaaa...
"You brat Roohi, you're still lying in bed!" Layaan complained, irritated.
"Oh come on, yaar, just wait two minutes! A rickshaw guy winked at me and drove off, now I'm looking for another one," came the innocent reply from the other end.
"He probably didn't wink at you; you must have flirted with him first," Layaan chuckled.
"What did you say? I flirted? Hey, why are you ruining my character's reputation? Okay, hold on, I'll be there in five minutes."
After ten more minutes of waiting, Roohi finally came into view. With a packet of chips in her mouth, a water bottle in one hand, her phone in the other, and her bag slung over her shoulder, she came running almost at a sprint. Layaan smiled and opened both arms, and Roohi slammed straight into her with a thud.
"Took you long enough... yeah?" Layaan took the water bottle from her.
"Yeah, I figured I shouldn't keep you waiting too long," Roohi grinned, flashing her teeth.
"Hurry up, we're already late." Layaan yanked her arm.
"Yeah, yeah, let's go."
The two of them rushed and scrambled into the classroom.
"Yaar, why is this college so far? Do they have a personal vendetta against us?" Roohi gasped, practically collapsing into the chair next to her.
"It's not the college's vendetta, it's your sleep's. Your alarm goes off, you put it on silent, and drift right back to snooze," Layaan remarked sarcastically.
"I don't even set an alarm; I wake up directly to my mom's slipper," Roohi burst out laughing.
Layaan raised both hands in surrender. "Please, just shut up."
Roohi crinkled her nose and tore open the chip packet. "Did you eat breakfast?" she asked, eyeing Layaan narrowly.
"I'm not going to starve myself like you and skip breakfast. Here, eat some, or else break time will force me to drag you to the canteen by your hair." Roohi winked and thrust the chips toward her.
"I actually ate breakfast today," Layaan said, pulling out a single crisp and popping it into her mouth. Roohi stared at her with wide eyes. The rest of the classroom was buzzing with chatter.
"Oh Allah, thank You, otherwise I was genuinely thinking your time on earth was near." Roohi raised both hands heavenward before stuffing more chips into her mouth.
"Don't stress. I'm not getting rid of you that easily," Layaan pulled out her notebook.
"Promise?" Layaan smiled, looking at her before playfully tugging a lock of her hair. "Promise."
Roohi smiled. Before she could say anything else, the teacher walked in. The entire classroom, along with the two of them, fell silent—though their silent conversation continued entirely through their eyes.
Absolute silence cloaked the room. A stillness that invariably surrounds powerful and dangerous people...
Somewhere in the distance, the sound of fast running echoed, as if someone were fleeing from the chaos raging inside their own mind. And nearby came the crisp rustle of a cuff being straightened, as though someone were wrapping their fury in refined etiquette.
He cast a glance at his reflection in the mirror, then pressed the phone to his ear. On the other end was a gym enclosed in glass walls, where Yahya Meer was running on a treadmill without a single pause.
His breathing was heavy and his face slick with sweat, but he looked entirely at ease—to him, all this exhaustion was nothing short of a ritual.
On the opposite end was Zavian Zarqad, carrying that same cold serenity on his face that one finds even amidst corpses.
"The meeting is at ten, and you're still counting abs," Zavian said in a chilling tone, checking his wristwatch.
"At least I look more alive than a clock," Yahya retorted sarcastically, stepping off the treadmill and wiping his sweat with a towel.
"If you had any real desire to stay alive, you wouldn't have tried to get me killed in the last shootout." Zavian raised an eyebrow, mirroring his tone.
Yahya smiled. "And if you were meant to die, how would you have been called the hero?"
There was a fierce challenge in his eyes. "I didn't come here to be a hero; I'm remembered as the villain," Zavian replied with a cold smile, adjusting his tie.
"Yet, the spotlight always finds you... Amazing!" Yahya pulled the towel from his shoulder, a smirk playing in his eyes.
"The spotlight belongs to whoever lives in the shadows, Yahya!" Zavian sprayed a hint of cologne on his neck.
"Then watch closely—sometimes, the light swallows the shadows whole," Yahya said playfully.
Zavian took one final look at himself and headed toward the door. "Shall we leave then?"
"Just about to arrive." Yahya caught his reflection in the glass wall, ran a hand through his hair, and turned back with a grin.
"Lali, you can do it!" Roohi screamed.
Layaan paused for a fraction of a second and looked in her direction. Roohi was standing amidst the crowd outside the grounds, yelling at the top of her lungs. As a running girl bolted past her and nearly collided with her, Layaan nimbly sidestepped. The opposing team's keeper launched the ball with full force toward the opposite side. Both teams on the ground sprinted after the ball. Right at the front was Almas, the runner from Layaan's team. The ball was in her hands now. Only two girls could make a goal—Layaan and Almas...
"Almas, yes..." Layaan closed the distance swiftly. Almas tossed the ball toward her. The entire team was right behind them, and the two of them led the pack. A hush fell over the entire student body, boys and girls alike.
"Layaan, score the goal!" Roohi shouted again, her voice echoing across the entire field.
Layaan neared the goalpost, eyeing the opposing team's keeper, who was relatively short in stature. Running at full tilt, she took aim. In a single second... she flicked the ball toward the corner of the post. The keeper leaped, but the ball sailed right over her and past the net. The crowd erupted into deafening cheers. Almas sprinted over and threw her arms around Layaan.
"You were amazing!" Layaan was panting heavily, but she was laughing. She scanned the crowd, trying to locate Roohi, but she was nowhere to be seen.
"Where did she go?"
Both teams reset their positions, and the second goal was also secured by Layaan's hands. By the end of the first half, their score was two while the opposing team stood at zero. The referee blew the whistle to mark the end of the first half. As Layaan walked over to the coach with her team, she finally spotted Roohi heading toward her with a water bottle in hand.
"Here," Roohi panted heavily, thrusting the bottle forward. She must have run to fetch it. Layaan drank the water and planted a kiss on Roohi's cheek.
"Thank you, witch..."
Two minutes passed, and break time was over.
"Come back winning!" Roohi's voice rang out at Layaan's back.
"If I keep listening to your voice, I'll score a hundred goals instead of two!" she laughed, heading back onto the field.
Roohi let out a deep breath, dragged a plastic chair over, and sat down. "They're the ones running, but I am the one getting hungry... bizarre!" She glared at them as they resumed the game.
This was the handball finals. For ten minutes into the second half, neither team could land a goal. Layaan and Almas were heavily guarded by two girls from the opposing team each, making scoring nearly impossible for either side.
"What do we do now, yaar?" Almas whispered, rushing up to her.
"Just don't let them score," Layaan instructed, grabbing the ball.
For the rest of the time, the two of them kept possession of the ball, neither scoring themselves nor allowing the rival team a chance. The opposing team's coach was screaming furiously at his players, and the girls were growing frantic. With barely a minute left before the second half ended, two girls bolted forward aggressively while Layaan held the ball. Both tried to snatch it simultaneously, but Layaan swiftly dodged them and broke away. Right then, the referee blew the whistle to halt the game. The entire college cheered in unison—Layaan's team had won!
Suddenly, someone shoved her hard from behind. She tumbled onto her knees. Lifting her face, she saw an opposing team player standing over her, glaring with pure rage. Layaan slowly got to her feet, dusted off her hands, and stood face-to-face with her. Roohi rushed over to them.
"Lali, are you okay? You didn't get hurt?" she asked anxiously, before fixing a murderous glare on the other girl.
"I'm perfectly fine, but someone else got hurt—and very deeply, at that." A sharp smile played on Layaan's lips.
"You think you're some big shot player, huh...?" The girl shoved Layaan.
In that exact split second, Roohi's hand whipped through the air, landing a resounding slap across the girl's cheek.
"If you ever lay a hand on my friend again, I'll break your arm!" Roohi roared furiously.
Layaan panicked and grabbed her arm. "You have some nerve—"
The girl lunged forward, but teachers and the coach intervened just in time. Had they been held back for another ten seconds, things would have turned physical. The opposing team's player was lectured on good sportsmanship, and Roohi was given a stern warning before being sent away with Layaan.
"How dare she push you? Why didn't you smash her face in?"
Sitting opposite each other in the canteen, Roohi stared at her with a mix of anger and resentment. Layaan signaled the canteen attendant for three burgers and two cold drinks, then leaned forward, resting both arms on the table. She was still in her kit.
"I did smash her, without even touching her—by defeating her," Layaan said with a smile.
Roohi continued to glare at her stubbornly. Layaan kept smiling. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Okay, okay..." Roohi managed to stop laughing.
The canteen boy slid a tray toward Roohi. Just as she grabbed it, someone shoved her from behind. The tray nearly slipped and crashed.
"Careful, your tray is overloaded; keep a grip or you'll drop it."
A boy materialized in front of her with a smirk, mischief dancing in his eyes.
"It's not overloaded, it's fully loaded—just like your nonsense!" Roohi snapped angrily.
The boy kept smiling. "You two are seriously weird. One doesn't eat and plays brilliantly; the other eats and throws punches. Interesting!" he said, giving Layaan a wink. Layaan's face flushed red.
"Don't you have any actual work, or do you just go around dispensing your garbage for free?" Roohi flared up.
The boy shoved both hands into his pockets and smiled as his friends walked up beside him.
"You guys won't understand. The Zarqad Boys only like two things: danger and drama." He turned toward his friends. "Come on, boys, our turn now."
Layaan looked up sharply, a jolt running through her mind. She had seen this guy somewhere before. Where? She tried to rack her brain, and suddenly that night came rushing back—the night she had gone to the market with her mother.
The loud screech of a motorcycle had pierced the air. That same boy had been riding a sports bike, accompanied by his friends, music blasting at full volume.
"Just look at these people, not an ounce of manners," her mother had muttered disapprovingly.
"Useless show-offs, trying to look cool by making life miserable for others," Layaan had glared at them.
The boy had been smiling, then his gaze had inevitably landed on Layaan. He had winked and sped off on his bike.
"Oh, goodness... It's him. Call him a Zarqad or a devil, he didn't have manners back then, and he doesn't have them now," Layaan said with annoyance, watching him walk away.
"What? Why? Do you know him?" Roohi asked, taking a bite of her burger.
Layaan nodded and filled her in on everything.
"Rayan!"
Both of them snapped their heads toward the voice calling out to the boy. He exited the canteen.
"His name is Rayan!" Roohi took another bite.
Layaan picked up her burger. "This one's yours, finish it quickly. Let's go hang out somewhere outside after college." She gestured toward the third burger and raised her cold drink to her lips.
There is a secret hidden in the mirror...
The room was flooded with bright light. Sunlight filtered through white sheer curtains. On one side of the gorgeous bedroom stood an exquisite dressing table. On her right cheek was the faint trace of a bruise. Her stunning long hair cascaded down her back, and her captivating eyes held a strange depth—was it sorrow, or pain?
Yet...
She swiped a tube of red velvet gloss across her lips and lined her eyes with dark eyeliner. She was so breathtaking that anyone looking at her would forget to blink. A strange, eerie smile curved her lips, as though nothing in the world could phase her. She knew how to smile right through the pain.
"I am Eshal Raheem. People think I'm innocent, and that is my greatest power," she whispered softly to her reflection.
She took one final look at herself and gently tossed her hair over one shoulder. She was dressed and ready for a business meeting. The phone resting on the dressing table vibrated. She cast a casual glance at it—a message from her secretary. With a look of weary annoyance, she turned away, stepped into her high heels, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door.
"She's the softest sin and the most dangerous one."
It was a high-profile private top-floor meeting room in an Islamabad building. The walls were made entirely of glass, featuring a sleek black and grey interior. The table was piled with confidential files, legal documents, and security advisors' reports.
Yahya stood by the glass door, gazing out at the city, his posture taut and alert. Zavian sat in a chair, casually flipping through a file, when the door swung open and someone stepped inside with slow, confident strides.
"I thought business at Zarqad Empire spoke for itself, but looking at this place, it seems deals now have to be settled purely by tongue," Azaan Shahveer said, taking a seat opposite Zavian.
Zavian tossed the file back onto the table. "Deals are always settled by tongue, but sometimes people tend to forget their place." Yahya turned his head, speaking in a chilling tone.
Zavian gave Yahya a silent warning look, then turned to Azaan. "Azaan Shahveer! You know why we're here. I don't have the time to waste running around." Zavian's voice was soft yet freezing.
"Fine then, let's talk straight," Azaan gestured toward the files laid out on the table. "There are roadblocks in clearing your port containers, and you believe my men are involved."
"We don't believe it, we know it for a fact," Yahya remarked sarcastically.
Just then, the door opened once more, and Eshal Raheem walked in. Clad in a white suit, her innocent face bore an expression of deadly seriousness. Her eyes instantly locked onto Zavian, who glanced at her once before shifting his attention back to Azaan. Azaan's gaze, however, remained fixed on Eshal.
"Numbers are unique, but intentions must be unique too," she said, approaching the table.
"Well, well, here comes the second devil," Yahya muttered under his breath, watching her.
A smile touched Azaan's lips before he glanced at Zavian. Eshal picked up a clipboard.
"According to reports, your medical shipments have been delayed twice..." while such delays never happen at the ports without someone's explicit permission.
In reality, this was an illegal trade of drug compounds disguised beneath the cover of legitimate business—a front for legal export. The truth was that the mafia was running its supply chain right through here.
"Those who change their minds never stay hidden forever; sooner or later, their necks are exposed. Isn't that right, Azaan Shahveer?" Zavian cast a cold, razor-sharp glance at him.
"You've brought quite a lot of medical knowledge with you, Zavian Zarqad. Or have you changed the flavor of the poison?"
"Those who change the flavor don't last long in the market," Yahya couldn't resist jumping in.
"This system doesn't run on safe documents and signatures; sometimes, faces have to change too," Zavian inhaled deeply, then leaned slightly forward. Azaan watched him with intense eyes, while Yahya wore a faint smile.
"And sometimes, all it takes is a single reason to shake up the system—and I know you two are going to give me that reason sooner or later."
The oxygen in the room seemed to thin out instantly. Eshal's eyes were locked onto Zavian, who completely ignored her presence.
"I think the meeting is officially over, or are we just going to play a power game with our eyes?" Eshal swallowed hard, looking back and forth between them.
"The game never ends, the disguises just change," Zavian said, closing his file and standing up. Yahya had already headed toward the door.
Sector F-7, Islamabad. The college area near Kohsar Market.
Yahya sat in the driver's seat, waiting for the traffic signal to turn green. Beside him, Zavian was deeply engrossed in a phone conversation. The weather had grown quite overcast, and within moments, rain began to pour. Islamabad's streets grew slick with raindrops by the second. A crisp chill and the scent of damp earth filled the air. Suddenly, a traffic jam brought everything to a halt, choking the road with congestion.
Yahya kept staring at the rain, his mind entangled with the morning's meeting. His expression remained hard and stern. He let out a heavy breath and glanced at Zavian, who was harshly barking orders at someone over the phone. Yahya redirected his gaze outside the windshield. A long line of vehicles had formed both ahead and behind them, fueling his growing irritation.
Suddenly, two girls crossed his field of vision. His eyes instantly caught the girl holding a chocolate bar in one hand and clutching another girl's hand with the other. The two of them were laughing and making their way forward, drenched in the rain.
"Roohi..."
The second girl addressed the one with the chocolate. Their school uniforms were soaked through; they were undoubtedly coming straight from college. In the distance behind them, the Margalla Hills loomed through the mist.
Uncontrollably, Yahya found himself watching them. Before they could slip out of sight, he abruptly stepped out of the car. His feet automatically carried him in their direction. The two girls stopped at a book stall on the roadside. Yahya was completely drenched by the rain now, but he didn't seem to care in the least. As he closed in on them, the two girls moved forward again.
"Roohi," he muttered under his breath.
Roohi instinctively turned her head to look back at him, but then kept walking. The moment they vanished from sight, reality crashed back over Yahya. He scanned his surroundings—the traffic light had turned green, and his car had moved quite far ahead. Just then, a vehicle pulled up beside him. Zavian rolled down the window and shot him a furious glare.
"If your love affair is over, get back inside and die!"
Zavian had seen him step out of the car and tail the two girls. While he hadn't seen the girls themselves, he was utterly bewildered by Yahya. He hadn't expected this kind of reckless behavior from him.
Yahya let out a cold breath, using his fingers to push the wet hair plastered to his forehead back into place, and climbed back into the car. As Zavian started driving forward, he cast a casual glance at Yahya, who was staring out the window again as if searching for someone, a faint, lingering smile playing on his lips.
Zavian jerked the car forward violently. Yahya looked at him in surprise, meeting a cold, unyielding stare.
"Did you finally snap back to reality, or should I give you another jolt?"
Yahya offered no reply. Zavian shook his head and pressed down on the gas, while Yahya drifted right back into that exact moment.
To be continued...
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