Sahira sat stiffly in her seat, her heart still racing from the chaos they had barely escaped. The low hum of the private plane vibrated through her, but it brought little comfort. The world around her felt unsteady. She cast a glance at Abrar Reza, her father-in-law, seated across from her. Once a man of imposing stature, Abrar now seemed smaller, diminished—his broad shoulders weighed down by exhaustion, his face marked with the deep lines of too many years and too many buried secrets. His silver-streaked hair had thinned since she last truly studied him, and the furrows etched into his skin told the story of a man burdened by unspeakable loss.Sahira's heart twisted painfully at the thought of Arsalan. Though she had convinced herself she despised him, did she really? Somewhere deep within, something stirred—a sense that something was terribly wrong.Abrar spoke briefly with the pilot before returning to the cabin. His heavy sigh as he sank into his seat seemed to echo in the small space, amplifying the weight he carried. His once piercing eyes, now dulled by worry, seemed distant, clouded with thoughts he couldn't share. Sahira's mind was a whirlwind of questions, confusion gnawing at her. They had fled so quickly, so abruptly. She was grateful the children had fallen asleep; keeping them calm would have been impossible otherwise.Across from her, Johra sat in a similar state of turmoil. Her mind reeled, trying to piece together the fragments of their shattered world. Our home... gone, reduced to ashes, she thought, the image of the fire still vivid in her mind. But it wasn't just the flames that haunted her—it was the silence that followed. No explanations, no warnings, just a desperate scramble to escape. She wasn't used to this level of uncertainty, not with Karim always so steady, so in control. Her leg bounced anxiously, her fingers twisting and fidgeting with the hem of her scarf. Johra was the type who always sought answers, who couldn't sit still when things didn't make sense.But none of this made sense.Finally, unable to contain her questions any longer, Johra leaned forward, her voice tight with fear and confusion. "Uncle, what's happening? Our home—it's gone. Someone set it on fire. Why are we running? From whom? And where are we going?"Abrar stared out of the small window at the vast darkness beyond. His silence felt heavy, and Johra could sense that it wasn't because he didn't know the answers. It was because he didn't know how to tell them. His usual authority had softened, eroded by the weight of the events they had just fled. He took a long, slow breath, as though searching for the right words. He wasn't ignoring them; he was protecting them."I know you're scared," he finally said, his voice gravelly and rough. "But it's not safe to talk about it now. Not until we're clear of this mess."Johra's frustration simmered. Clear of this mess? What mess? Just hours ago, their lives had been normal—perfect, even. She glanced at Sahira, hoping her sister held some answers, but Sahira only stared down at her son, Arham, who lay asleep in her lap. Her face was carefully neutral, masking whatever storm brewed inside her. But Johra knew her sister better than anyone. Beneath that calm facade, Sahira was barely holding herself together. With each silent sob, she whispered a prayer in her heart, clinging to the one hope that Allah was with her, even in the darkest of moments.Just then, the plane's in-flight entertainment system flickered to life, pulling their attention to the screen. The cabin filled with the voice of a news anchor, smooth and detached, as the headline scrolled across the bottom:"Breaking News: Prominent neurosurgeon Dr. Arsalan Ansari, known for his humanitarian work, is under investigation for alleged ties to the mafia. Sources claim he is linked to the infamous Ezel, a feared figure in the criminal underworld. Investigators are now looking into connections with drug trafficking, money laundering, and murder."Johra's blood ran cold. Her mind struggled to process the words, but the truth crashed over her like a tidal wave. Ezel. The name struck her like a sledgehammer. She had heard of that name before, spoken in hushed tones, surrounded by a cloud of danger and intrigue. But she had never imagined it could be him."No..." Johra whispered, staring at the screen in disbelief. "What... what is this?"Sahira's hands shook as she tried to steady herself, but it was useless. Her entire world was unraveling before her eyes. She had always known Arsalan as the strong, protective man who kept his personal world locked away, a man who shielded her from the darker edges of his life. But this... this was beyond anything she had ever imagined. The man she knew, the man who saved lives, was now being accused of unspeakable crimes.Johra's panic rose, her voice desperate. "Is this why you ran away? Why you pretended to be dead all these years? Sahira... is this true? Tell me this is some kind of terrible mistake. Why would they say this about brother Arsalan?"Sahira remained silent, as though the words simply wouldn't form. How could she explain something she herself had barely come to terms with? As her world shattered, her faith in Allah was the only thing she could hold onto.Abrar rubbed his temples, his face lined with tension. He knew he had to say something, but he couldn't reveal the full truth. Not yet. That would destroy everything in seconds. Fortunately, he had anticipated a moment like this."It's not what it seems," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. "This is all because of that girl... Svetlana."Johra frowned. "Svetlana?"She knew of Svetlana well enough. The enigmatic woman who had been obsessed with Arsalan for years, even when Sahira was still in the picture. Svetlana hadn't backed down, not for a moment. And when they thought Sahira was dead, Svetlana had re-entered Arsalan's life, relentless in her pursuit. Months ago, Johra had heard that Arsalan had finally agreed to marry her. It hadn't made sense at the time, but Karim had told her that Arsalan couldn't live alone forever. He had said Svetlana was a suitable match, despite the circumstances."Svetlana Reznikov," Abrar continued, his voice darkening. "She's the daughter of one of the most dangerous mafia families in Eastern Europe. She wanted to marry Arsalan, but when he refused, her family started this vendetta against him. This whole thing—calling him mafia—it's a lie. They're trying to ruin him."Johra's mind whirled as she tried to make sense of it all. Svetlana—this woman she barely knew—had wanted Arsalan for herself? And now, out of revenge, she was accusing him of being a criminal? It didn't add up, but then again, nothing about this situation did."So... this isn't real?" Johra's voice was fragile, as though she feared the answer. "Brother Arsalan isn't... he's not involved in this?"Abrar met her gaze, his expression hard but softening just enough to offer a glimmer of reassurance. "No. This is all a vendetta. Svetlana's pulling strings, spreading lies. That's why we're running."Johra exhaled shakily, drawing her son Ibrahim closer. Relief mingled with a growing concern for her husband, Karim. She longed for his presence by her side. A sudden realization struck her: perhaps this was why Sahira had left. The misunderstandings Svetlana had sown might have driven Sahira away. The fire at their home, she realized, wasn't meant for her. It was likely intended for her sister, who had returned to Arsalan's life. Svetlana, having learned of Sahira and the children, now sought to eliminate them. Johra's heart pounded. Despite the swirling accusations, she had believed in Arsalan's innocence. The gravity of their danger dawned on her. Closing her eyes, she prayed fervently to Allah for everyone's safety.Meanwhile, Sahira remained silent, lost in her thoughts. With every breath, she prayed for clarity, for strength. She had spent years running from Arsalan, running from a past she had hoped to bury. But Allah had different plans, and now, she had to face them.The image of Arsalan's face, the weight he had carried in the years they had been apart, lingered in her mind, unwilling to let go.The hum of the plane, the sensation of moving yet going nowhere, it all reminded Sahira too much of her life. She tried to suppress the memories, but they clawed their way to the surface. Four long years of running, of trying to escape a world that never stopped pulling her back. She couldn't help but wonder—why had Arsalan let her go now? He had sworn she would never escape again. He had promised that if she returned, she would be trapped in his world forever. So why now? What had changed?As she stared out into the vast, dark sky beyond the window, her thoughts drifted back to that day—back to the moment when she had come face to face with Arsalan again after all those years of running. The memory was sharp, as if it had just happened yesterday.She remembered the way his eyes had locked onto hers, filled with a mix of fury and something deeper—something she wasn't ready to confront.---------Sahira stood trembling, her heart hammering in her chest. She was about to face the cold-hearted monster once again. But this time, she had no other choice. She needed him to save their son.Her eyes brimmed with tears. She had no idea what she would say to him, no plan for how she would explain herself. Her greatest fear was that he wouldn't listen—that he would kill her before she could speak. It wasn't death she feared, but leaving her children behind. She couldn't die. She had four sons to protect.She had left everything for them. Her family, her friends, and him. She had left her entire life behind, convinced it was the only way to keep them safe. But now, fate had played its cruelest trick. Today, she had to turn to the very man she had escaped from five years ago.Sahira couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She stood before him, head bowed, her body wracked with silent sobs. With each tear, she begged Allah for the strength to endure, for the courage to protect her children. She was waiting for him to speak, terrified of what he would say, but he remained silent, his gaze burning into her.Finally, she lifted her eyes, forcing herself to look at him."Arsalan, I'm sorry. Please forgive me... but save him. Save your child." Her voice trembled as she pressed her palms together in a plea.He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. Slowly, his fingers brushed away her tears, but the gentleness of the gesture was an illusion. His hand slipped to her hair, gripping it tightly, making her wince. For a moment, a flicker of something deeper stirred in his chest, but he quickly pushed it aside.Even as his hand tightened, a voice deep within whispered that this was not the man he wanted to be."You gave birth to my child?" His voice was cold, detached. "Didn't you say you would rather die than give birth to my child?""Arsalan... Arham will die," she whispered, her voice breaking.His jaw clenched. Not only had she pretended to be dead, but she had hidden their son from him. The rage simmered beneath his calm exterior, his control slipping. If he didn't let go of her hair, he might do something he would regret."Where is he?" he asked."In the hospital," Sahira replied, her eyes gleaming with the faintest hope.His heart skipped a beat. His fury wavered as he stared into her eyes, the same eyes that still had such power over him, even after everything. She had nearly destroyed him, and yet, she was the only one who could make him feel alive. But deep down, he knew—he had strayed too far from the path. He had become a shadow of the man he once was. Could he ever return?Without a word, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the door."Which hospital?""The Royal Hospital," she answered quietly.Sahira followed in silence, her emotions tangled in a mess of fear, relief, and something she couldn't name. She had spent years trying to escape him, trying to protect her children from the darkness he carried with him. But now, she needed him. She watched his back as they walked. For all those years, she had never forgotten him. She had known exactly what he was capable of, the monster he hid behind that calm, composed mask. She had seen it with her own eyes—the ruthless, violent side of the man the world saw as a hero. Yet she had never stopped caring for him, even though he was the reason she had lost their unborn child.She silently wept, unsure if she was crying for her son or for the man she still couldn't hate.Dr. Arthur couldn't believe it when he saw her walk in with Mr. Ansari. He had almost lost hope for little Arham, given that there was no neurosurgeon in this small town. It had only been by sheer coincidence that Mr. Ansari was here, preparing for his engagement.Dr. Arthur had heard tales of Ansari's brilliance, but today, he witnessed it firsthand. Little did he know the real truth behind the man standing in front of him. Arthur explained the boy's condition to Arsalan: Arham had a brain tumor, and he needed immediate surgery.Without hesitation, Arsalan donned his scrubs and entered the operating room.Arsalan's eyes stopped at the small figure lying on the hospital bed. His heart raced. He had never thought this day would come—the day he would lay eyes on his own child. His hands trembled as he stood there, staring at the pale, fragile boy hooked up to drips and machines.The boy looked so much like him. Yet, in that moment, Arsalan couldn't afford to feel. He picked up the scalpel and began to work, the neurosurgeon taking over.The surgery stretched on for hours, but in the end, they succeeded in removing the tumor. Dr. Arthur congratulated Sahira on the success, but she didn't see Arsalan afterward. Arthur told her he had left.Sahira didn't know whether to feel relieved or worried. Part of her was grateful. She didn't want to face him again, not so soon.She stayed by Arham's side all night, thanking Allah for her son's recovery. But as she sat there, watching her child sleep, her mind wandered. It felt as if the past was repeating itself. Years ago, she had been in this same position, sitting by a hospital bed—but it had been her mother in that bed, not her son. That day, Arsalan had saved her mother's life, just as he had saved their son today.Back then, she had believed him to be an angel sent by Allah.Now, she knew better.She let out a heavy sigh, her mind racing with uncertainty about what lay ahead. The harsh reality of her situation was beginning to sink in.What's going to happen next? She could only think.-------