Love under twinkling stars

Rain lashed against the sleek limousine's windshield, blurring the city lights into an impressionist painting. Zayan, lost in his thoughts, barely noticed the rhythmic thump of a flat tire until the car lurched to a stop, jolting him back to the harsh reality of the storm-drenched night.

He looked at his phone. No signal!Another annoyance in this deserted stretch of highway. He stepped out, the icy rain biting into his skin, and inspected the tire. A deep gash, impossible to ignore. As he pulled out his phone to call for assistance, a guttural chuckle echoed from the shadows. Three figures emerged and materialized from the storm like ghosts. Balaclavas obscured their features, but the glint of knives in their hands sent a jolt of adrenaline through Zayan. This wasn't a roadside breakdown. This was an ambush. Panic surged through him."Looks like the big man's caught flat-footed," sneered one, his voice husky. His eyes displayed the glint of dangerous criminals.

 Zayan didn't respond. He had faced threats before, his wealth attracting its share of unwanted attention. But tonight, something felt different, a cold calculation in their eyes that sent shivers down his spine. These weren't your average thugs. They lunged, blades flashing in the dim streetlights and drizzling rain. Zayan, years of training igniting in his muscle memory, moved with the fluidity of a predator. He sidestepped a clumsy swipe, delivering a lightning-fast kick that sent the attacker sprawling. The others hesitated, surprised by his agility. They weren't ready for the counter-attack.

Zayan pressed his advantage, a whirlwind of controlled fury. He disarmed one with a deft twist, the knife clattering onto the asphalt. The other lunged, his blade aimed for Zayan's chest. But Zayan was a step ahead, catching the attacker's wrist in an iron grip, a sickening crack echoing as the bone snapped. Shivers ran down the spine of the others. A victorious smile displayed on his lips. The remaining assailant, fear replacing his initial bravado, stumbled back. He fumbled for a gun tucked in his waistband, but before he could draw it, Zayan delivered a precise blow to his pressure point. The man crumpled, unconscious. 

Rain mingled with sweat on Zayan's face as he surveyed the scene. His breaths came in ragged gasps, adrenaline slowly receding. He wasn't unscathed - a gash on his arm bled freely, and his side throbbed from a glancing blow. But he was alive. Alhamdulillah... Once again, he was grateful to the Almighty. After all, He was the one who kept him safe. He retrieved his phone, the signal bars miraculously back. Zayan rolled his eyes. With shaking fingers, he dialed a familiar number."Emergency services," a clipped voice answered."This is Zayan," he rasped, his voice hoarse. "There's been an attack. Highway... mile marker..." He rattled off the details, his gaze hardening as he pocketed the phone and leaned against the car. The rain washed his wounds. The assassins might have thought they were taking out a rich playboy with a flat tire. But they had underestimated the blackbelt master lurking beneath the tailored suit. And Zayan had a feeling this was far from over. He wouldn't be a pawn in their deadly game. He would find out who wanted him dead, and make them pay.

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

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to pulsate with the hum of machines, a stark contrast to the adrenaline rush that had coursed through Zayan just hours ago. His injuries, thankfully, were minor, a testament to his swift reflexes, but they still required stitches and observation. His best friend, Abrar, burst through the door, his face etched with concern."Dude, I still can't believe you thrashed those three assassins so well!" Abrar exclaimed, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief."Allah is my protector," Zayan replied calmly, a touch of gratitude in his voice. "If He is with me, no one can harm me."Abrar nodded solemnly. "Indeed," he agreed, his eyes scanning Zayan for any hidden injuries. The police said someone hired those assassins, offering $100,000 as payment. Zayan shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. "The business world is tough. You get many rivals."Just as Zayan finished dressing and prepared to leave, an elderly man, his white coat crisp and emblazoned with the title "Dr. Khan," approached them. His eyes radiated warmth."See, I told your wife," Dr. Khan chuckled, his words hanging heavy in the air, causing a jolt in Zayan's heart. "If you start taking the proper medicines, you will be alright. Now, look at you!"Zayan's brow furrowed. He tried to place the face, but his memory remained stubbornly blank. "Do I know you, Doctor?" he asked politely.

Later, in Khan's dimly lit cabin:

Dimly lit by a desk lamp, the office felt more like a study than a medical space. Zayan sat opposite Dr. Abbas, Abrar beside him, a silent pillar of support.

"So, you're saying my memory loss wasn't just an accident?" Zayan asked, his voice thick with disbelief. Khan nodded, his kind eyes filled with understanding. "Indeed. Your brain scans show proper function, but it appears you were locked in a childhood state. Someone tampered with your medication, triggering this regression."Zayan's breath hitched. "It was my wife," he muttered, the accusation heavy on his tongue. A dull ache settled in his chest, fueled by the betrayal Feroza had painted."She... she tried to harm me." Khan's brow furrowed. "But Mr. Ahmed, your wife was the one who brought you to me. She was deeply worried about your erratic behavior, suspecting something was wrong. I was visiting Bangladesh at the time, and she sought my help. She was instrumental in your initial recovery."Zayan's world tilted on its axis. Muntaha, the woman he remembered only through whispers of betrayal, had fought for his well-being? His mind grappled with the conflicting narratives, unable to reconcile them."I don't understand," he whispered, his voice raw with confusion. "Why would my mother lie about her?" Khan sighed, his eyes filled with a flicker of sadness. "I cannot speculate on their motives, Mr. Ahmed. But what I can tell you is this – your wife's actions spoke volumes of her love and concern for you. The truth may be far more complex than it seems."Silence descended upon the room, heavy with the weight of revelation. Zayan closed his eyes, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of his past. His dreams, Feroza's words, Muntaha – what was the actual truth? He asked himself but found no answer.

---------

Zayan stared out the car window, the cityscape a blur of neon streaks against the night sky. His mind churned like a whirlpool, each thought contradicting the next. Who could he believe? His mother's accusations against Muntaha, or Dr. Khan's words of her concern? The doubt gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Recognizing the weight of Zayan's struggle, Abrar's gaze shifted briefly from the road to his friend. The faint moonlight filtering through the car window revealed the tension etched on Zayan's face – the physical reminder of his recent attack paling in comparison to the emotional wounds inflicted by the day's revelations.

With a silent understanding, Abrar decided against the bustling chaos of Zayan's usual residence. Instead, he steered the car towards the serene tranquility of his penthouse. The silence in the car wasn't merely an absence of sound; it was a carefully woven shroud of respect, allowing Zayan the space he desperately needed to navigate the labyrinth of emotions and conflicting narratives.

Zayan remained lost in his thoughts when his phone vibrated, shattering the serenity. He glanced at the screen, the name "Mark Mitchell" displayed. Mark, his financial manager, rarely called after hours unless something significant transpired.

"Sorry to bother you at this hour, Mr. Ahmed," Mark's voice crackled across the line, a tinge of concern lacing his Australian twang. "But something rather unusual came up."Zayan leaned forward, intrigue flickering in his eyes. "What is it, Mark?"

"It's your brother, Mr. Ibrahim. This morning, he made a rather hefty withdrawal from your joint account."Zayan's brow furrowed. "Hefty? How hefty?""One hundred thousand dollars, Mr. Ahmed. A substantial sum, especially considering it wasn't flagged for any investments or acquisitions."The phone felt cold in Zayan's hand. The recent assassination attempt, the memory still raw, sent a jolt through him. "Did he say what it was for?"

"He claimed it was for a personal investment opportunity," Mark replied, his hesitation evident. "But frankly, Mr. Ahmed, it felt off. He seemed agitated, and the amount..."Mark trailed off, leaving the unspoken implication hanging heavy in the air. Zayan's jaw clenched. The pieces were clicking into place, forming a disturbing picture."Thank you, Mark. I'll look into it," he said, his voice calm despite the turmoil within.

Zayan ended the call, the phone slipping from his numb fingers with a clatter. A sigh escaped his lips, heavy and laced with despair. He leaned back against the plush leather seat. The cityscape, once vibrant, now felt cold and unforgiving. One hundred thousand dollars. Enough to pay for...He couldn't finish the thought, but the truth gnawed at him, chilling him to the core. His own brother, driven by greed or unknown motives, might have tried to take his life. The revelation ignited a storm of emotions within him – betrayal, anger, and a steely resolve to uncover the truth. Abrar, sensing the shift in his friend, asked "Everything alright, Zayan?"Zayan met his gaze, his expression hardened. "Not quite, Abrar. But we'll get to the bottom of this."

----------

The night sky shimmered with laughter as Muntaha and Zayan sprawled on the rooftop, their playful voices echoing amongst the stars. They were in their element, weaving fantastical constellations by connecting the stars. Muntaha, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, pointed at three stars in perfect alignment, declaring it a spaceship. Zayan, determined not to be outdone, contorted several stars into a hilariously lopsided dinosaur, earning a playful scoff and a gentle slap on his shoulder from her.

But beneath the laughter, a formless storm brewed within him. Frustration tightened his chest, fueled by the inability to see the shapes as effortlessly as Muntaha. "I can't... I can't see the stars like you," he confessed, his voice laced with a touch of despair. "I can't find shapes like you."

Muntaha's reply was a gentle caress, her voice soothing like the night breeze. "You don't have to see the same way," she said. "The stars are beautiful, even if they're different for you. They twinkle for everyone. They twinkle equally both for Zayan and Muntaha."

Her words, simple yet profound, pierced through the confusion, offering a glimmer of solace. A shy smile tugged at his lips, a fragile flower blooming amidst the storm of his emotions. "Zayan and Muntaha?" he repeated, the unfamiliar pairing echoing in the quiet night becoming a melody to ears.

But Muntaha couldn't wait for his response. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she grabbed his hand, sending a jolt through his heart. Unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on his internal compass, she traced a 'Z' and an 'M' with one of his fingers in the stars. "That's us," she giggled, the sound washing over him like a wave of warmth. His gaze, unable to resist the pull, found hers, and he felt himself lost in the depths of her eyes.

At that moment, a flicker bloomed within Zayan – a fledgling feeling that defied definition. He couldn't decipher the rapid drumming of his heart, the warmth spreading through his limbs, or the strange stirring within him. Yet, one thing burned bright in his mind: she was his moon, illuminating his world in the darkest of nights.

-------

The jarring voice of reality shattered Zayan's dreamscape. "Zayan, wake up, bud. We have reached home," Abrar's voice, tinged with concern, pulled him from the moonlit rooftop to back to the car. "Moon.." he looked for her. But, there was no Muntaha. Once again, he woke up to reality where there was no moon to illuminate his world.

---------

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***