Prologue

"You're already the mother of my four children," Arsalan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "And you're about to bring another one into this world. And you have the audacity to tell me I'm not romantic?"

Sahira met his gaze with a steely resolve. "If you want to know how romantic you were, listen closely," she said, her voice dripping with venom. His ears burned as she recounted her tale, leaving him flushed with shame.

"And if you want to know what you've done to me..."

Arsalan's playful demeanor evaporated, replaced by a sense of unease. He released her wrist, and Sahira recoiled, putting distance between them.

Arsalan's eyes fell, his voice laced with remorse. "Was I that bad?"

"You're far worse, Arsalan," she retorted, her voice laced with anger. "This act of amnesia you're putting on could fool the entire world. But not me. I've seen your masterful acting before. But I'm not going to fall for your deception again, Arsalan Ansari."

Sahira turned to leave, but Arsalan's voice stopped her.

"Hira...can't you forgive me? I don't remember anything about my past. I have no recollection of who I was, what I did... Please believe me. Forgive me."

For a fleeting moment, Sahira's heart wavered. Her feet remained rooted to the spot.

She turned back to face him, her eyes filled with skepticism. "Well, well, well. What an incredible performance, Arsalan. You deserve an Oscar for that one," she sneered, turning and walking away.

Arsalan let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Prologue ends...

-----------

The Prophet (ﷺ) said, "Amongst the men of Bani Israel there was a man who had murdered ninety-nine persons. Then he set out asking (whether his repentance could be accepted or not). He came upon a monk and asked him if his repentance could be accepted. The monk replied in the negative and so the man killed him. He kept on asking till a man advised to go to such and such village. (So he left for it) but death overtook him on the way. While dying, he turned his chest towards that village (where he had hoped his repentance would be accepted), and so the angels of mercy and the angels of punishment quarrelled amongst themselves regarding him. Allah ordered the village (towards which he was going) to come closer to him, and ordered the village (whence he had come), to go far away, and then He ordered the angels to measure the distances between his body and the two villages. So he was found to be one span closer to the village (he was going to). So he was forgiven."

----------

Arsalan was running inside the forest. His steps rushed. Eyes gazing everywhere, alert. The sound of his steps on the dried leaves made some sound. He was carrying his son , Arham on his arms. His little self unaware of the grave danger lurking behind them.

"There he is." he heard. And, someone tried to attack him. He hide behind a tree and took out his revolver and fired.

Araham woke up hearing the loud noise.

"Daddy, what happened? " he asked, wondering what is happening around him. He placed a kiss on his forehead and said, " We are playing a game here. You see, your dad is playing a cop here."

"Cop?" Arham chirped excitedly.

"Yes, champ, cop." he shot another bullet.

"That's exciting. I am going to tell others." His

"Sure , champ. But, if you want daddy to win this game, then you have to do what daddy says."

" Of course, we are going to win this." He said but his voice didn't hold its usual confidence.

Arsalan had faced many dangers in his life, but never had he felt fear like this. A fear so profound, so visceral, that it shook him to his core.

He had always seen fear in the eyes of others, but today, it was his own gaze that reflected the depths of his dread. A fear that gnawed at his insides, a fear that threatened to consume him.

Was it the fear of the unknown? The fear of losing everything he held dear?

No, it was something deeper, something more primal. It was the fear of losing his son, Arham, the precious child who had brought light and love into his life.

His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of anxiety. He, who had once been emotionally numb, impervious to the world's emotional storms, was now gripped by a fear so intense, it threatened to paralyze him.

He had been called many things in his 32 years on this earth - a devil, an angel of death, a force of nature, Ezel. But today, he was simply Arsalan Ansari, a father, a husband, a man terrified for his family.

He realized that the enemies who had invaded his home were not after him; they were after his wife, his children. And Arsalan Ansari, the man who had once embraced fearlessness as his armor, was now consumed by a fear so profound, it threatened to break him.

Life had taken an unexpected turn. Just when he had begun to awaken to his own emotions, the first feeling he experienced was fear. And it was a fear so overwhelming, so debilitating, that it made him question everything he thought he knew.

He looked down at his son, Arham, nestled in his arms, oblivious to the chaos around them. The boy's eyes sparkled with innocence, his laughter echoing through the air.

Arsalan held him closer.

His heart pounded in his chest as he realized they were surrounded. The enemy was closing in from all sides, leaving them with no escape route.

He heard footsteps behind him and quickly whispered to Arham, "Close your eyes and ears tightly, my son. If you don't, we'll lose."

Arham, eager to win, squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears with his hands. Just then, an attacker lunged from behind.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the air, startling Arham. He wanted to open his eyes and see what was happening, but his father's words echoed in his mind: "Don't open your eyes."

Arsalan swiftly disarmed the attacker and moved forward, his senses on high alert.

The situation was tense, and Arham couldn't help but feel a surge of fear. "Baba," he whispered, "can I open my eyes now?"

"Not yet, my love," Arsalan replied, his voice filled with concern. "Not until we're safe."

Suddenly, two more assailants emerged from behind, charging towards them. Arsalan reacted instinctively, kicking one away with a powerful blow.

The other attacker lunged for Arham, trying to grab him. Arham, unable to contain his fear any longer, opened his eyes to see the man reaching for him.

A cry escaped Arham's lips as the attacker tried to pull him away. Arsalan, seeing his son's distress, unleashed a powerful punch, knocking the attacker unconscious.

Arham clung to his father, tears streaming down his face. "Baba, I'm scared," he sobbed.

Arsalan gently wiped away his son's tears, his voice reassuring. "Don't worry, my dear. It's just a game. Remember?"

"I want to go home, Baba. I want to see Mommy," Arham pleaded.

"Of course, my son," Arsalan replied. "We'll be home soon."

With Arham safely in his arms, Arsalan continued their escape, their pursuers hot on their heels.

-----------

The chase led them through dense jungle and up a rugged mountain trail, the enemy never far behind. Finally, they reached a clearing at the top of a hill, where they were surrounded by the attackers.

"We don't want anything from you, Ezel," the leader of the group sneered. "We only want your son. Hand him over."

Arsalan held Arham close, shielding him from the approaching danger. "Why do you want my son?" he asked, his voice laced with protectiveness.

The leader chuckled coldly. "To destroy him," he replied. "Just as you have destroyed countless others."

Arsalan's eyes narrowed in anger. "What has my family done to you?" he demanded.

"You ask that, Ezel?" the leader scoffed. "Have you forgotten the countless lives you've taken? You've caused more suffering than we ever could."

He turned to his men and gestured towards Arham. "Take the boy!"

Arsalan knew he had to protect his son at all costs. He couldn't let these ruthless men take him away.As two men approached Arsalan, he swiftly incapacitated them with a well-aimed blow, leaving them sprawled on the ground. The leader was impressed by his skill. After all, Ezel hadn't gained fame in the underworld for nothing.

"Attack him together. Remember, Ezel must remain unharmed," he ordered.

All of his men converged on Arsalan at once. Arsalan stood his ground, facing them head-on. One by one, his adversaries fell to the ground.

But they knew this was coming; that's why there was already a swarm of thugs present. If one fell, another took his place.

Suddenly, someone attacked Arsalan from behind. His vision blurred, and his grip weakened. But he quickly strengthened his hold and continued to fight with renewed vigor.

The leader of the enemies, watching him with narrowed eyes, felt a pang of fear. He was alone, yet he managed to hold off so many men for so long. He aimed for Arsalan's legs.

A bullet struck Arsalan's leg, then another hit his arm. A groan escaped his lips, but he continued to fight.

Arsalan's brow furrowed as he saw five men approach him from behind. He couldn't even react before they grabbed him.

The leader grinned triumphantly as he reached for Arsalan's chest. But instead of Arsalan, his hand met a large rock.

Arsalan chuckled at the sight.

A few moments earlier:

He didn't want to reach the road under any circumstances.

Arham was still crying. He didn't like this game much. As they walked, Arsalan heard the sound of footsteps behind him again. He turned the gun in that direction.

But he was relieved to see Karim. His life came back to him.

Karim was happy to see him. He had been looking for both of them for the past two hours.

"Thank God I found you. Are you both okay?" Karim asked, stepping forward and checking that they were both okay.

"Yes. We're fine so far. Catch him."

Arsalan wanted to hand Arham over to Karim, but Arham held him tightly.

"Daddy, I'm scared," Arham said fearfully.

Arsalan's heart sank. He kissed his son on the forehead and said lovingly,

"Nothing will happen to you. Trust in Allah."

Arsalan found his own words a bit strange.

Trust in Allah. He had heard this from Sahira many times before. But today, for the first time, he was saying it himself. Karim also started looking at him in shock.

Karim knew Arsalan was a skilled actor. He knew how to hide his flaws. He knew that Arsalan couldn't feel any emotions. All his emotions were fake. He gave people the reactions they wanted. He had this genetic disorder that prevented him from feeling any emotions.

But today, Karim felt that Arsalan was not acting. He was genuinely worried about his son. He was also somewhat scared.

"Take him, Karim. Those people are after him."

"No, we'll wait here. Our people are about to arrive."

"No, there isn't that much time. The enemy will reach us before our people can reach us." He forcefully separated Arham from him and handed him to Karim.

Arham started crying loudly.

"Champ, nothing will happen. Daddy will be back with you soon. Karim uncle will take you home."

Arsalan reassured him.

"Daddy, will you win now?"

Arham looked at his father with tearful eyes.

"Will you pray for me, Arham?"

Arsalan asked, turning back.

Karim found his friend strange today. He was talking about praying to Allah. This was not the Arsalan he knew. Who was this person...

"Yes, Daddy. I will pray to Allah. He will surely make you win."

Arham said. And Arsalan kissed him on the forehead.

"Karim, Sahira and the others are also in danger."

"Don't worry, Arsalan. Elias is sending his men. They will take them to a safe place, InshaAllah."

Arsalan nodded and opened Arham's shirt. He stuffed a large stone in it. Then he hid it under his coat. It looked to onlookers like there was a child inside the coat.

Then Arsalan turned to leave.

Karim's heart sank.

"Arsalan..." he called out.

Arsalan turned around and looked at his childhood friend.

"Karim, if there is a God, may God give everyone a friend like you," Arsalan said with a smile.

Karim watched him in amazement. His friend was smiling. It wasn't a fake smile. It was a genuine smile.

And Karim found that smile to be the most precious and beautiful smile in the world.

Arsalan sent Karim to the other side and moved to the other side himself.

"Allah, guide my friend. For You are the only One Who Guides."

Karim prayed from the bottom of his heart.

------------

As Arsalan advanced, the leader of the enemies grew anxious and struck Arsalan with all his might.

But Arsalan managed to break free from their grasp and began to eliminate them one by one. It seemed as if an unseen force had suddenly empowered him.

Watching his men fall one by one, the enemy leader felt a creeping sense of dread.

Then he saw Arsalan advancing towards him, bloodlust in his eyes.

"Will you destroy my family?" Arsalan taunted him.

"Look, Ezel, don't come near me. I'm warning you. Stay away from me," he said, his voice trembling with fear.

His men tried to stop Arsalan, but he brushed them aside and grabbed the leader by the neck.

One by one, he struck at him, causing the man to stumble backward. But Arsalan quickly countered each attack.

And then he began to beat him again.

Suddenly, someone attacked Arsalan from behind, causing the man to recoil in fear.

And he fell back, pulling out his gun and aiming it at Arsalan. Arsalan had just managed to recover from the attack when he noticed that the enemy leader had aimed his gun at him. He was standing on a cliff, with the gun aimed at him. And behind him was a ravine. The man was terrified. He had forgotten that Ezel had to be kept alive. But he wanted to stay alive himself. If Ezel stayed alive, he wouldn't.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Arsalan saw that Karim had arrived with his men.

But then he heard the sound of a gunshot in the air.

----------

Sahira, who was leaning against the bed, suddenly opened her eyes.

She kept remembering the conversation she had with Arsalan that morning.

Arsalan had come to see her.

"I hate you, Arsalan. I wish you were dead. Then I and my children would be free from you and your sins forever and ever," Sahira had said angrily then.

But she always said these things to him. And Arsalan always listened to her words in silence. But today... Arsalan had looked at her. Those eyes that had no depth, today they had pain in them. As if her words had hurt him.

There was something in those eyes that was making Sahira restless.

She felt a sense of panic. A deep-seated desire to see Arsalan in her heart, which she immediately dismissed.

---------

A bullet struck Arsalan's chest, and a fountain of blood erupted from his chest.

"Ah..." He groaned in pain. His footing faltered, and he fell straight into the ravine behind him.

Karim's breath caught in his throat.

"Arsalan.." Karim screamed. But Arsalan didn't hear his scream. His ears were filled with someone else's words.

"Do you consider yourself the angel of death? Watch, Arsalan, one day, the angel of death will come for you suddenly. Then you will realize the reality. First the torment of the grave. Then resurrection. Then you will be held accountable for every sin you've committed. For every pain you've inflicted on others. Then Allah will judge you. And your actions , this only leads to Hell for mankind. And this Hell is no fairytale, Arsalan Ansari. It's a living, breathing creature where disobedient servants of Allah will be burnt."

Is Hell my destiny?

He could only thought....

-------

Some figures lurked outside Karim's house in the shadow of the veil.

"Boss, they're all inside. Should we launch the attack?"

"No, lock the doors from outside. Set the house on fire." The command came through the other end of the phone.

The man nodded and retrieved a petrol bottle from his car.

---

"Jahra, where is Arham? Why hasn't Karim bhai brought Arham back yet?"

Sahira spoke with worry. Her eyes were fixed on the door. She had already prayed Maghrib but Arham hadn't returned yet. Arsalan had come in the morning. That's why Sahira hadn't left her room. When she went out, she saw everyone was present except Arham. Anxiety settled in Sahira's heart. She informed Jahra, who then informed Karim. Later, it was found out that Arham was hiding in Arsalan's car. There was no need to worry; he was safe with Arsalan.

Sahira was angry with Arham. She was going to scold him severely when he returned. But now she was starting to feel anxious. Arham hadn't returned yet.

"Karim's call came. Arham's perfectly fine. He'll be here in a while. Don't worry so much." Jahra reassured her. They both were busy folding clothes for all the children.

"By the way, tell me something. Since you've come here, this house has come alive. Before, it was just me, Karim, and Ibrahim. And the house was so quiet. But now there's noise and commotion all the time. Your sons don't take after you. Ammu used to say you were very quiet, like my Ibrahim. They're a real handful."

She chuckled and paused her work for a moment.

"Your sons haven't taken after you."

Sahira was startled, hearing Johar's words. She didn't want her sons to be like their father. Or, to become a criminal like their father.  Arsalan was their father, but it was only their misfortune.

When Jahra saw Sahira lost in deep thought, she gently shook her hand and asked,

"What are you lost in thought about?"

Her thoughts halted at the movement of his hand, and Sahira looked at him in shock.

"Oh, nothing."

Jahra, her voice laced with curiosity, broke the silence. "Sahira," she began, "I still can't believe you raised four children all by yourself. I remember the struggle I had with just one! The labor pains, the sleepless nights, the constant worry – it was overwhelming."

A wistful smile graced Sahira's lips as she recalled the challenges of her past. "I don't know how I managed either," she admitted. "Allah has always been merciful to me. Sometimes, I wonder how I pulled it off, all alone."

Jahra's eyes filled with admiration. "You're incredibly strong, Sahira," she declared. "Raising four children single-handedly for so many years..."

Sahira shook her head, her expression somber. "It wasn't bravery," she corrected. "It was a necessity. I had no choice. As a mother, my love for my children made me helpless. I couldn't bear the thought of Arsalan finding out about them. I had already lost one child. I couldn't lose another." Her eyes hardened, a flicker of pain crossing her face. "The rest, I left to Allah."

Jahra's heart ached for her sister, the depth of Sahira's suffering evident in her words. "But what if Arham's brain surgery hadn't required that doctor?" she asked gently. "Would you have never returned?"

Sahira's voice turned pensive. "Perhaps not," she replied. "Arham had been complaining of headaches for a few days. I didn't pay much attention at first. But when the pain became unbearable, I took him to the doctor. That's when I discovered his brain tumor."

She closed her eyes, the memory of that harrowing moment still vivid in her mind. "It was a terrifying time," she confessed. "I used to work at a place where the owner, an old lady was very fond of me and my children. I talked to her since I knew only she could help me. When I went to her and told everything, she immediately agreed to help pay for Arham's treatment. After some days, I brought Arham to New York. The day Arham's surgery was scheduled, his surgeon was also flying in from California. Unfortunately, his flight was delayed. Arham's surgery couldn't be postponed. We needed a surgeon immediately. That's when someone suggested Arsalan's name. They also mentioned that he wouldn't be at the hospital that day because he had an engagement ceremony."

Sahira's voice trailed off, a wave of memories washing over her. The scenes from that day replayed in her mind, each one etched with pain and desperation.

----------

Sahira's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the doctor, her voice trembling with desperation. "What do you mean the surgeon can't make it? I've cleared all the payments. Why is my son's surgery being delayed?"

The doctor, a woman with a sympathetic face, tried to calm Sahira's rising anxiety. "Please, Ma'am, try to understand. The surgeon who was scheduled to perform your son's surgery was flying in from California today. Unfortunately, their flight has been delayed."

"But what now?" Sahira's voice rose in panic. "My son's surgery is supposed to happen soon, and you're telling me there's no surgeon available?"

"We're doing everything we can to find a replacement surgeon as soon as possible," the doctor assured her. "We have some of the best neurosurgeons in the world right here in our hospital, but they're all on personal leave today. Otherwise, they would have performed your son's surgery, and their success rate is very high."

"Are they in this city?" Sahira asked urgently. "Please, give me their names. I'll go talk to them myself."

The doctor thought for a moment before replying, "Arsalan Ansari. He's a very skilled surgeon. If you explain your situation to him, he might agree to operate on your son. The hospital staff is trying to contact him, but he's probably not taking calls today because of his engagement. It would be best if you went to him in person and explained the situation. I'll send one of our staff members with you."

But Sahira was no longer listening. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the name, Arsalan Ansari.

Vivid memories flashed before her eyes, a torrent of emotions threatening to engulf her. The doctor watched her with concern, puzzled by the woman's sudden silence. Sahira had presented herself as a single mother, her face hidden behind a large scarf. The doctor felt a pang of sympathy for her. Poor woman...

"Miss, are you alright?" the doctor inquired.

"Yes, I'm fine," Sahira replied, masking her inner turmoil. "Just give me his address. I'll go talk to him myself."

The doctor nodded.

Sahira's mind raced, questioning her decision to seek Arsalan's help. For years, she had meticulously concealed her children from him, protecting them from his shadow. And now, she was about to approach him again, this time to save her son's life. Was she making the right choice?

-------

Sahira stood before the imposing mansion, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been years since she had last set foot in this place, a place she had once called home. She took a deep breath, her legs trembling slightly, and approached the guard standing at the gate.

"I need to see Arsalan Ansari," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The guard eyed her suspiciously. She didn't look like a party guest. "Do you have an invitation card?" he asked gruffly.

"No," she replied.

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Ansari?"

Sahira closed her eyes, taking another deep breath to gather her courage. "No," she said again, her voice firmer this time. "Just tell him Sahira is here."

The guard hesitated for a moment, then nodded and disappeared into the house.

Sahira stood there, her heart pounding in her ears, waiting for what seemed like an eternity. The mansion loomed over her, a symbol of the past she had desperately tried to escape.

Inside the Mansion

Arsalan was getting ready for his engagement party in his room, Karim by his side. Karim was giving instructions to the guards stationed around the house, making sure everything was in order for the important guests who were expected to arrive.

The mansion was bustling with activity, staff scurrying about, making sure every detail was perfect for the upcoming event. Security was tight, with guards stationed at every entrance and patrolling the grounds.

"Mashallah, you look stunning," Karim exclaimed, admiring his friend's appearance.

Arsalan remained silent, meticulously fastening the cufflinks of his shirt.

"I'm so happy for you, man," Karim continued. "You're finally moving on with your life."

Arsalan still didn't respond. He sprayed a few spritzes of perfume and turned to face his reflection in the mirror.

Perfection.

From his attire to his every gesture, everything about him exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. Tonight, he was to be engaged to Svetlana. Next month, they would be married.

He was detached from all emotions, a condition known as Alexithymia. He couldn't understand his own feelings or those of others. In his entire life, he had only experienced one true emotion – the intense love he felt for Sahira Hamid.

She was the only person who had ever stirred any emotion within him, an emotion he couldn't quite define. He loved thinking about her. He felt her presence around him constantly. He longed to see her, to hear her voice. All he knew was that he wanted her, only her. And he had possessed her.

But then, she had died. And with Sahira Hamid's death, Arsalan Ansari had lost his one and only connection to emotion. He felt nothing anymore.

Karim felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. He knew Arsalan was emotionally numb. But when Sahira was around, there was a spark in his eyes.

Now, there was only a cold, steely glint in his gaze.

A guard knocked on the door and entered the room.

"Sir, there's a call from the hospital. A child needs emergency surgery," he reported.

"Arrange for another surgeon," Karim replied. "Arsalan can't perform any more surgeries today."

Just then, another guard entered the room.

"Sir, there's a woman outside who wants to see you," he said.

"Who is she?" Karim asked again. "Whoever it is, Arsalan is unavailable right now."

Karim started to leave the room with the guard, but then the guard stopped him.

"She says her name is Sahira," he added.

Arsalan, who was finishing up his preparations for the party, froze.

"Sahira?" Karim whispered, but by then, he had already left the room with the guard.

Outside the Mansion

Sahira waited anxiously by the gate, her heart pounding in her chest. She had seen Karim enter the house with the guard. Her face was covered with a large scarf, but Karim had still recognized her. For a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes. The woman he had thought dead for the past four years was standing right in front of him, alive and well.

"Karim bhai, I need Arsalan's help," she pleaded. "My son...he needs surgery. There are no other surgeons available. Please ask Arsalan to save my son's life."

Sahira was consumed with worry for Arham. She had forgotten everything else. All she could think about was her son, who needed surgery immediately. If he didn't get it, she didn't know what would happen.

But for Karim, this was a shocking revelation. He was speechless for a moment, unsure of what to do. The guard stood by, watching them both.

"Sahira, you're alive..." Karim finally managed to say. "Then where have you been for all these years? And this child..."

"Karim bhai, I'll explain everything to you later. But right now, please call Arsalan. Otherwise, my son will die," Sahira begged desperately.

Arsalan didn't need anyone to call him. He had heard everything from the doorway. He saw a woman crying in front of Karim. Her head and face covered with a scarf. But, her eyes... he knew those eyes quite well. Those beautiful black eyes who always drawn him towards them.

His heart skipped a beat. A feeling he hadn't felt in years stirred within him. He took a step towards the woman, his feet moving on their own.

"What's going on here?" he asked in his deep, commanding voice, addressing everyone in the room. 

The sound of Arsalan's voice made Karim step back from Sahira.

Arsalan Ansari's gaze fell upon the woman whose face was hidden behind a large scarf.

But his heart was pounding in his chest. His heartbeat had taken on a different rhythm.

"Karim, go inside and handle everything," Arsalan instructed, and Karim left with the guard.

Now, it was just Arsalan Ansari and Sahira Hamid. And Sahira Hamid's breath caught in her throat.

Arsalan stepped forward and gently lifted the scarf from her face.

The same feeling surged through his heart once again. The intensity in his eyes faded instantly. They sparkled, and Sahira Hamid seemed to forget how to breathe.

-----------

Her trance broke, and she was pulled back from the realm of memories to reality.

"I am here. I was forced to return to save my son's life. And I had to come back to this man."

"Sahira, I don't know what happened between you and Arsalan bhai. But he's not as bad a person as you think he is. Even after you left, he took great care of Mom and all of us. Sumaiya and Maheen are both studying medicine now. Tayyiba is also in a very good school. Mom can walk again. Arsalan bhai had her treated."

Jahra tried to reason with her sister.

Sahira smiled bitterly, but said nothing.

Just then, Ibrahim ran into the room, crying.

"What's wrong, Ibrahim? Why are you crying?" Jahra asked with concern, seeing her son's tears.

"Arhal hit me," Ibrahim sobbed.

Sahira's forehead furrowed. She knew her youngest son was more prone to physical outbursts than words. He was the youngest of the four brothers, the most mischievous, and the most stubborn.

"You need to apologize to Ibrahim bhai. Otherwise, Mommy will punish you," Arhab, the slightly more sensible of the four brothers, tried to reason with his younger brother, who was two minutes younger.

"You hit brother. Mommy will be angry now. You'll get a timeout."

Arhan also joined in, trying to reason with his brother, who was one minute younger. They were all three years old, about to turn four.

Arhal continued to play with the car, oblivious to their words. He acted as if he couldn't hear anything.

Sahira stood before him.

"Arhal..."

Arhal understood that Mommy was about to scold him. He tried to run away with the car, but Sahira, who knew her son very well, caught him.

Arhal giggled.

"Arhal, did you hit Ibrahim bhai?" Sahira asked sternly.

At first, Arhal shook his head in denial, but when Sahira glared at him, he nodded reluctantly.

"Why did you hit him?"

"He wasn't giving me his car?"

"So, you hit him?"

"Yes." The answer was innocent.

"Is it right to snatch other people's things and then hit them?"

"I asked him to give it to me first. But he didn't listen. So, I took it."

Arhab and Arhan were playing quietly, occasionally glancing at their younger brother getting scolded.

"You did wrong," Sahira tried to explain.

"No." Arhal remained stubborn.

Sahira took a deep breath and then took him to another room. Arhab and Arhan watched them go silently. Arhal started to cry.

Sahira sat him on a chair in the other room.

"Don't move from here for 5 minutes. This is your punishment. Think about what you did wrong."

But Arhal kept crying loudly. Sahira left the room. Jahra came to her with Ibrahim. Ibrahim was no longer crying.

"Aren't you overdoing it?"

"No, discipline is necessary," Sahira replied.

Ibrahim looked into the room and saw Arhal sitting there sulking. Ibrahim felt sorry for his younger brother. He didn't want his aunt to punish him.

"Aunt, please forgive him. He asked me for the car. But I didn't give it to him," Ibrahim told Sahira.

Sahira stroked his hair.

"No, son, Arhal needs to understand his mistake. Don't worry. I'll bring him back in 5 minutes."

Jahra took Ibrahim to the playroom. And Sahira stood outside the room, watching her stubborn son. He was still hiccupping.

After just two minutes, Sahira went back to him.

"Then she asked him lovingly. Do you realize your mistake?"

"Yes."

"Will you apologize to Ibrahim bhai?"

"Yes."

Sahira wiped his tears. Then she kissed him on both eyes and hugged him tightly.

Then Sahira tickled him and he forgot to cry and started laughing.

Sahira took him out of the room. Arhal apologized to Ibrahim and returned his car. But Ibrahim gave him the car to play with. Then the four children started playing hide and seek.

Sahira went to her room to rest for a while, but her heart started to pound. Then the door burst open.

Jahra came in running, breathless.

"Sahira, we have to get out of here right now. Karim called. We're in grave danger."

"The children?" Sahira asked worriedly.

"Karim has sent guards. I have already sent the children out with the guards. Now I'm here to pick you up."

Jahra grabbed Sahira's hand and they headed towards the gate.

But what was this? Someone had locked the gate from the outside. Then they went to the back door of the house, but it was also locked from the outside. Both of their hearts were pounding. Just then, they heard the sound of the garden gate being broken down and they both stood still in their place.

Then a man entered.

He lowered his gaze and said respectfully, "Please don't panic, ladies. Karim sir has sent me. For both of you."

He gave them two large shawls and asked them to cover themselves completely with the shawls. Then they both followed the guard out. They saw the house burning in the distance.

Both of their hearts started to beat with fear.

Sahira saw a car parked outside. And outside the car, the three children were crying in fear.

Three children?

There were four children?

Her heart sank.

Arhal... her youngest son. He wasn't there.

"Where is Arhal?" She screamed.

"Madam, we only found three children. We thought there were only three children."

"My Arhal." Sahira started running towards the house, but Jahra grabbed her. The whole house was burning. Jahra started to cry.

"Leave me, Arhal. My son. He's in there." Sahira screamed, " Leaveee meeeeeeeee" Her piercing screech echoed across the streets.

The children were also crying in fear. Two guards ran towards the house. But the house was completely engulfed in flames.

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As soon as the enemy leader saw his chance, he fled. No one even attempted to catch him. Perhaps everyone's attention was on Ezal.

Karim looked up at the cliff. It was very deep. If he had fallen from here, there was no way he could have survived. For a moment, he froze. His breath caught in his throat. When he came to his senses, he didn't know how he had managed to regain his composure and ordered his men,

"Go down and find him."

As soon as his men heard the order, they immediately started down the cliff. And he stood there, just looking down. It was impossible to survive a fall from such a high cliff.

"Ezel is dead. What will happen now?" Karim heard a voice from his right side. He turned his head to the right. The voice was that of his right-hand man, Joseph.

"How can you say that? We don't know yet. Maybe he's alive," Karim said hopefully.

"Karim, he was shot in the chest and he fell from that height. If we hadn't seen him fall with our own eyes, we could still say that there's a chance Ezel could still be alive."

Joseph's words were harsh, but they were true. It would be an impossible feat for Arsalan Ansari to survive a fall from such a high cliff.

Karim's eyes welled up with tears. He fell to his knees and began to weep bitterly.

Arsalan was not just his friend, he was his brother and his family. Today, Karim was once again an orphan. His family was gone.

The sky, which was covered in dark clouds, seemed to be crying along with him. His men stood there, they too were in a state of shock and grief. There was an eerie silence. Everyone standing there had lost their leader. The shock was great. The grief was even greater.

Only the sound of the thunder could be heard and Karim's sobs. 

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Sahira was still screaming. She was crying uncontrollably. Johra was trying to comfort her sobbing sister.

Her own condition was no better. The whole house was burning down. Black smoke was billowing out of it. The fire seemed like a monstrous beast, engulfing the house in its deadly embrace.

Sahira felt like she was going to die. She had once seen her child die in her arms. And now she was seeing another child burning in the fire. Was this also a punishment for Arsalan Ansari's sins?

No, this was Sahira Hamid's test. But she couldn't understand that.

"Allah... Allah..." Sahira began to cry out to Allah. All around them, the heartbreaking screams of a mother filled the air.

"Sahira, no. You calm down. Please."

Jahra didn't know how to comfort her sister. What could she say to her? What could she say to a mother whose child was burning to death before her eyes?

"Mama!!!"

Both sisters heard the cry, and Sahira's heart pounded in her chest. She pulled away from Johra and followed the sound, her eyes scanning the flames. There, in the midst of the inferno, a shadow appeared. Slowly, the shadow became clear and she saw her youngest son, Arhal.

He was in the arms of a man, crying hysterically. Sahira ran towards them, and as she got closer, Arhal struggled to reach out to her.

The young man put Arhal down and he ran to his mother. Sahira fell to her knees and hugged her son.She couldn't help but kiss his face over and over again.

The verse from Surah Ar-Rahman came to her mind:

"Which of the favors of your Lord will you deny?"

Holding her son close, she couldn't help but cry. Yes, what favors of her Lord could she deny? Today, once again, Allah Ta'Ala had shown her another of his favors. He had brought her son back to her safe and sound.

Sahira was still crying, but the tears were not of sorrow, but of gratitude. She was grateful to her Lord.

Drops of Allah's mercy began to fall from the sky. They all stood there, getting drenched in that mercy.

"My child, are you alright?" Sahira asked, checking his body. She didn't want him to be injured. His face and clothes were covered in soot. But he was not injured.

Sahira thanked Allah Ta'Ala once again.

"Mama..." Arhal was crying. He was scared.

"No, my child. Don't cry. You are my brave child. So why are you crying?"

"Mama... I was alone. There was no one there. You weren't there either. I was scared..." Arhal explained in broken words, and Sahira hugged him tightly. "You were not alone. My son, haven't I told you that Allah is always with us? He is even closer to us than our jugular vein."

"But I was still very scared, Mama."

"Everything is fine now, my child. Don't cry anymore."

Everyone standing there was watching this heartbreaking scene with bated breath.

 The gentle drizzle morphed into a downpour.

Seeing Arhal, Arhab and Arhan also came to their mother. Then Jahra also came to them with Ibrahim.

The fire was still burning, but the worst was over. Sahira and her children were safe. They had lost everything in the fire, but they had each other. And that was all that mattered.

"Your son is perfectly fine. He's also very smart. He chose a very safe place to hide from the fire."

Sahira looked at him with grateful eyes. He was a handsome young man of about 25-26 years old. He had some injuries on his arms and legs.

"Boss, you're hurt," the young man's aide said worriedly, approaching him.

"It's nothing," the young man replied.

"Thank you. You saved my son's life. May Allah reward you abundantly."

"I didn't do anything. So there's no need to thank me. Your husband saved my life once, and today I saved your family's life. Now we're even. Get in the car, it will take you all to a safe place."

He said that and took out his phone from his pocket and started making a call.

Sahira and Johra nodded and got into the car after listening to his words. They were accompanied by two guards for their protection.

Elias' guards took a medical box out of his car and started bandaging his arms and legs.

"Yes, I have delivered his wife and children safely. Now we're even. But I was very surprised to know that he has 4 sons. And they're very cute too. I've decided I'll have 5 sons. After all, I always have to be one step ahead of him."

Elias said that and laughed. His green eyes sparkled like emeralds. His cheeks also had cute dimples.

He talked on the phone for some more time and then hung up. By then, his wounds were dressed too.

Just then, his phone rang again.

When he picked up the phone, the dimples on his cheeks disappeared. His forehead was wrinkled. His face turned dark.

"How can this be? How can Ezel be dead?" he asked. The question was absurd. Does death ever come to anyone after informing them?

But people often forget or ignore this fact.

"Yes, I'm coming now," he said and got into his car.

As the car sped away, Sahira couldn't help but wonder about the man who had saved her son's life. Who was he? And what was his connection to her husband?

She knew that she would never find out the answers to those questions. But she was grateful to him nonetheless. He had saved her son's life, and that was all that mattered.

Meanwhile, Elias was driving as fast as he could. His mind was racing with thoughts of Ezel. He couldn't believe that his friend was gone. Ezel was gone.

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Sahira leaned her head against the car window, her heart heavy with worry. Arhal lay asleep in her lap, his head nestled against her chest. Beside her sat Arhan and Arhab, their small bodies curled up in sleep. Zohra sat opposite her, Ibrahim nestled in her lap. Sahira gently ran her fingers through Arhal's hair, her gaze shifting to Arhan and Arhab. She reached out and brushed away the strands of hair that had fallen over their faces. Of all the children, only Ibrahim was awake, his eyes gazing out the window beside him.

The other three children slept soundly, their faces pale and drawn from the emotional exhaustion of the day. Sahira's heart was still at unease. She longed to hold Arham close. 

A wave of fear washed over her, a fear that had become a constant companion since the fateful day she had married Arsalan. Every moment of her existence was now a battle against regret, a bitter reminder of the grave mistake she had made. She closed her eyes, tears welling up behind her lids. A wave of self-pity washed over her, her heart aching for the life she had lost, the life she had once dreamed of.

How could she protect herself and her children from Arsalan's dark influence? What could she do to make him leave them alone?

"I wish you would just disappear, Arsalan," she whispered to herself, her voice laced with bitterness. "If you were gone, then maybe I and my children could finally be free."

Little did she know that her wish was about to be granted, in a way she could never have imagined.

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He stood by the window of his glass penthouse in New York City, his gaze lost in the shimmering lights of the metropolis below. Life felt like a heavy burden, a weight he carried with every breath. His love, the very essence of his existence, had been snatched away, leaving him in a perpetual state of mourning.

A faint sound of footsteps echoed through the spacious room, but he remained motionless, his eyes still fixed on the vibrant cityscape.

"Why didn't you attend the reunion party?" his father's voice broke the silence, his footsteps coming to a halt behind him.

"What's the point? She won't be there," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Are you going to spend your entire life chasing a ghost?" his father asked, a hint of exasperation in his tone.

"Chasing a ghost? I'm doing everything I should be doing. I'm a successful businessman, making money," he retorted, turning around to face his father. His damp hair clung to his forehead, a sign of a recent shower. His blue eyes held a steely glint, his voice cold and detached.

"You've destroyed yourself," his father countered, his voice calm and steady. "She took everything from you."

" She took nothing from me." he answered and  took two steps forward, closing the distance between him and his father. "Why did you do it? Why did you kill her? What did you gain from it?" he demanded.  He ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration evident.

His father remained unfazed, his expression unreadable.

"She's alive," his father declared, his voice cutting through the room like a knife.

The son stared at his father, disbelief etched on his face.

"The woman you've mourned for four years, she's alive."

"Is it true, Dad?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and disbelief. He clutched his father's arm, his anxiety palpable. "Are you telling the truth, Dad? If she's alive, why haven't you brought her to me?"

It didn't matter to him when or how she had survived. All that mattered was that she was alive.

"She'll come to you," his father replied, his tone laced with a hint of mystery. "But..."

"But what, Dad?" the son pressed, his voice laced with urgency.

"But you'll have to take Ezel's place."

"Ezel's place? But how?"

"Don't worry about that. Just prepare yourself for a new identity. Because you'll have to lose yours. You'll have to become Arsalan Ansari."

A sinister smile played on his father's lips.

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