His Deewangi– The Mob Lord's Bride Pretty? Me?

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Yasmin's Pov:-

Aaliyah makes me sit on the small couch in the corner, her face glowing with excitement.

Aaliyah

She leans in, staring at me dreamily**

Aaliyah

“Oh my goodness, yrr—you have the most flawless skin. Glowing, yrr… ughhh, so pretty,” **she gushes, her eyes sparkling.. 😍✨

It’s always the same with her. Since the first day we met, she keeps saying these things.

Admiring my hair, pinching my cheeks, insisting I’m beautiful.

She looks at me like I’m some rare jewel.

But from where I stand… she’s the gorgeous one. With her sleek hair, bright eyes, and effortless grace—she looks like she belongs in a world far away from mine.

Me? I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful.

Still… her words did something to me. The first time she said “You’re beautiful, Yasmin,”

I couldn’t get it out of my head. So much that I went and bought a small mirror for ten rupees.

My very first mirror. Just because of her.

Sometimes, secretly, I look at myself in it.

Golden, frizzy hair that shines under light. Chapped, dry lips. Red pimples scattered across my skin, painful at times.

A fair, porcelain complexion that never looked special to me.

But when I hear her voice calling me pretty… I blush.

I smile without meaning to. It feels like she presses a fresh breeze into my tired mind.

Then she asks the question I’ve avoided my whole life.

Aaliyah

“Yasmin… do you want me to look for your… p-parents?” **she says gently, almost hesitating,

Like she’s afraid of hurting me.

I don’t feel anger. I just shake my head.

Yasmin

“No, no… it’s fine. I’m good. I don’t need people who don’t need me.”

Aaliyah

She frowns, then tries again** “But… what if they didn’t abandon you? What if they lost you? Maybe they’re still looking for you?”

Her voice is full of hope, like she’s trying to stitch some into me too.

Yasmin

I inhale slowly, then smile faintly**

Yasmin

“Aaliyah… thank you. Really. For your kind words. But I don’t want to look for anyone. I’m fine without them. You don’t need to feel bad for me. Okay?”

Aaliyah

She pouts, her lips pushing forward like a child, but nods**

Then she gets up to help Irfan Chacha with the tea and coffee.

I return to my work—taking orders, wiping tables, carrying trays.

By the time the café closes, it’s nine at night. My body aches, but I don’t complain.

I’ve already bought bread for dinner—cheap, filling, and my favorite.

I eat as I walk, heading back to my apartment through the dark streets.

The alleyways are familiar. The shadows too.

I turn into one, and see the usual group of drunk men sprawled on the ground, laughing, talking nonsense.

Two of them look up at me, their eyes crawling over my body. Their mouths curve into smirks.

They whisper things, dirty comments.

Yasmin

I ignore them, keep walking, keep my head straight**

But if I say I don’t shiver, I’d be lying. Their eyes, those filthy gazes, always make something inside me shrink. I’ve lived through worse, fought through worse…

And yet, a part of me—the girl inside me—still feels scared.

Some fears never leave you.

***

Author

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