Ava remained seated on the bed, facing the window, as the outside world changed from day to night. Her once vibrant eyes were now red and swollen from countless tears that she had shed.
During the Lunch time, Aziza, the maid, came into the room with a tray of food, just as she had done for breakfast. Aziza had tried her best to encourage Ava to eat, but she refused to touch the food. She had no appetite, no desire to eat.
Ava had never thought she would miss her everyday life this much. She cursed the moment she had attended Mia's wedding. If only she had made a different choice, perhaps she wouldn't be trapped in this nightmare.
Ava had been so lost in her thoughts she didn't realise someone had entered in the room. A sudden pat on her shoulder made her turn. Her gaze fell upon an elderly lady, adorned with diamonds jewellery.
The lady smiled warmly and asked, "Why haven't you eaten, dear?" But Ava didn't feel any warmth. Maybe she had lost to feel anything in one day.
Ava finally found her voice. She asked, "Who are you?"
The lady's smile remained as she responded, "I am Aliya Rahman, dear. You can call me Aunt Aliya if you'd like. I'm Ibrahim's mother."
Ava's eyes widened. Ava couldn't believe her ears. She turned her head toward Aliya, seeking confirmation, "You're his mother?"
Aliya nodded and sat before her on the bed. Her smile remained on her face.
Ava pleaded, "Please tell your son to free me from here. I want to go home; I don't want to stay here."
Aliya gently wiped Ava's tears away, "Ibrahim won't let you go, not now. Stop thinking about returning to your old life; this is your home from now on."
Ava's hands trembled, and she pulled her face away from Aliya's comforting touch. Rising from the bed, she confronted Aliya, "What kind of mother are you? Can't you see your son is doing something terrible? Doesn't it bother you that your son kidnapped me from my apartment?"
Aliya took a measured breath and met Ava's gaze, "I know everything you're saying, You don't need to explain."
Ava couldn't contain her frustration. She exclaimed, "I've been locked in this room from last night. How can you accept your son's deeds easily? Do you think these are normal !"
Aliya replied with a matter-of-fact tone, "You don't have to be locked in this room if you cooperate and refrain from attempting to escape. You are my son's choice, and I won't interfere."
Ava questioned, "What do you mean, his choice? Am I just an object that your son likes and brings home?"
Aliya maintained her calm. She was not a person who got angry easily. She said, "Dear, You have no idea how obsessed Ibrahim is with you. Don't cry too much; you'll only hurt yourself."
Ava couldn't fathom Farah's complacency, "Obsession doesn't justify his actions! I have a life, a family, a future, and he's trying to ruin everything. How can you be okay with that?"
Aliya's calm smile didn't waver as she replied, "Ava, you have no choice in this matter. My son has decided, and he gets what he wants. You can either make your stay here more comfortable or face hardship. The choice is yours."
Ava, holding back tears, asked, "Can't you see how crazy this is? I have a life, dreams, and people who care about me. You can't just take that away."
Aliya nodded like she understood but stayed firm, "Ava, I can't change my son's mind. You have to accept this situation."
Ava couldn't be a coward like this, no she couldn't, "I won't give up, Mrs. Rahman. I'll find a way out, and your son will have to answer for what he did."
Aliya's smile faded for a moment, but she left the room without saying more. Before going out, she turned to Ava and said, "Do what you need to, but remember that escaping isn't an option."
...
Ibrahim's sleek black car sped down on the road. His phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Haroon calling, and when Haroon called, it usually meant there were issues to address.i Ibrahim answered it via Bluetooth.
"Ibrahim," Haroon's voice crackled over the line. "I've got news for you."
Ibrahim's firm grip on the steering wheel didn't waver, but he knew that when Haroon called with news, it was rarely good.
"Go on," Ibrahim replied.
Haroon continued, "We've managed to recover approximately 80% of the arms we lost. It wasn't easy, but we're making progress."
Ibrahim nodded, his grip on the steering wheel firm. "Good work, Haroon. What's our next move?"
"We need to lay low for a while," Haroon replied. "The authorities are still looking for us, and we don't want to attract any more attention. We should consider moving some of our operations to a different location."
Ibrahim considered Haroon's words, "Hmm. We'll need to make some strategic changes to keep our business running smoothly."
Haroon continued, "One more thing, Ibrahim. I found out who tipped off the authorities about our operation."
Ibrahim's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Tell me."
"The traitor is one of the guards at your house, The Rahman mansion. His name is Kamir Ahmed." Haroon revealed.
"Tell me more." he demanded, a faint edge of frustration lacing his tone.
"Karim's motivations are clear. He's been tempted by the lure of money, and it's cost us dearly," Haroon shared the details.
The revelation left a bitter taste in Ibrahim's mouth. He had always been meticulous about choosing his people. That Karim had been swayed by a few greenbacks was a grievous betrayal.
"We'll deal with Karim separately," Ibrahim said with cold determination. "But not before he pays for his betrayal."
Finally, as Ibrahim approached the grand gates of the Rahman mansion. He glanced at the mansion's and told, "We'll continue to talk later."
"Understood, Ibrahim. Take care." Haroon said.
Ibrahim ended the call and parked his car. Ibrahim entered the mansion, his steps echoing in the grand foyer. He was met by Aziza who took care of the household.
Aziza cleared her throat and said with a soft voice, "Sir, the girl, she hasn't eaten anything whole day. I've tried to convince her, but she refused."
Ibrahim's shoulders sagged as he realized Ava's stubbornness. He let out a deep, audible sigh. "Give me the plate; I'll handle it."
Aziza swiftly fetched a plate, laden with steamed rice, and a side of sambal and handed it to Ibrahim. With the plate in hand, Ibrahim proceeded down the hallway and reached Ava's room.
He unlocked the door. As he entered, his gaze landed on the sight of her sleeping form. She was curled up in a ball on the bed, her head resting against the wall. He face became red and puffy for crying.
Ibrahim stood near the door for a moment. He couldn't help but wonder just how much pain she had been through since he had brought her here. After gently closing the door behind him, Ibrahim placed the plate on the nearby tea table and approached Ava.
Ibrahim delicately brushed a strand of hair away from Ava's face. Ava stirred slightly when she feels a touch on her face. She opened her eyes and her gaze met Ibrahim's. Surprise and confusion filled her expression as if she had expected anyone but him.
Ava moved quickly to put more distance between them. She moved as far from him as possible, as if trying to create a physical barrier. Her voice quivered with a blend of anger and fear as she confronted him, "How dare you touch me?"
Ibrahim observed her reaction. He took the plate and placed the plate of food within her reach. He told, "Eat Ava."
She turned her head away and spoke, "I won't eat, I'm not hungry."
Ibrahim's eyes flashed with a hint of exasperation. "Ava, I'm not going to play the nice guy any longer. You need to eat."
Ava held her ground. She looked up and her gaze locked onto his, "What will you do if I don't eat?"
Ibrahim's smirk revealed his resolve. He leaned closer to Ava, his hands resting on either side of her on the bed. He effectively caged her against the wall. Ava, her back against the wall, felt a surge of fear as he came closer, their faces inches apart. He said, "Do I have to show demo?"
Ava couldn't help but tremble. "Don't come near me," she whispered, her breath uneven, her heart racing.
Ibrahim's voice grew firmer as he pressed his advantage. "Then tell me you'll eat."
Ava reluctantly nodded.