Lighting a cigarette on top of the rooftop of their humble sized home, Imad breathed a sigh of relief. Strange as it was, him being an important member of the Black Panther Mafias, he still never got accustomed to the lifestyle of lavishes and luxuries. True peace as it came for him was found on a shabby old rooftop while his older brother slumbered off the side.

Arriving home to a drunken father and a handful of unknown women had stopped surprising him. Despite being the brother of Sikandar Khan, their father, Fareed Khan had squandered all his wealth on alcohol and hiring cheap local women for petty sex. In the end, their mansion had to be sold and so Fahad and Imad had been made an offer by their cousin Asadullah. And naturally being penniless and destitute at the tender age of fifteen, the twins had no option, but to accept their seventeen-year-old cousin's offer.

Allahu Akbar!

Allahu Akbar!

Imad relished in the peacefulness of the call to prayer by closing his heavy eyes. Once upon a time, he and his brother were proactive and consistent visitors of the local mosque alongside their mother. Despite their father's regular abuse, Imad had never lost faith in Allah and had never relied on anything other than Allah to change his circumstances. One day his perception changed when he woke up to find a badly handwritten goodbye note. His mother had left them at the mercy of their father. She had chosen to seek help with another man to change her circumstances rather than Allah. And so, Imad did the same when he joined hands with Asadullah.

But despite everything he had done and everything that had happened to him, he still would keep an ear out for the call to prayer. Especially during these quiet starry nights where his heart was restless and baffled . . .

"Hm? You're still awake, man?" Fahad grumbled from the straw bed that they had pulled out from the rooftop room. "Do you ever fucking sleep?"

"Quiet!" Imad responded, irritated when the last crescendo of the adhaan drifted into nothingness.

Fahad rolled his brown eyes. "Don't worry, bro. One ends, another starts. It never stops!"

And true to his statement, another call to prayer started in the far distance. Once again, Imad inhaled deeply suddenly overcome with a feeling of being embraced. Allah's embrace.

"What the hell are you doing here, Immy?" There was a seriousness in his brother's heavy voice - something that was as uncommon as seeing Asadullah with a smile on his face. "From the start, you and I both know you were never cut out for this life. You want that life!" He flung a wild hand towards the direction of the minaret that glowed like a star in the darkness of their life.

Imad said nothing. In the past, he had wanted many things, but had only received beatings and rejections from all those around him. But unlike Fahad, his heart had not turned to a stone - it remained ever compliant and merciful. His mother had instilled this within him and he was unable to rid himself of it.

"I see the longing in your eyes, bro. I know how badly you wanna go in a mosque and just cry your heart out!"

"You know damn well nothing, Fahad." He growled, taking a long inhale while swirling the smoke in his mouth before letting it out. It contaminated the fresh air just the way he would contaminate a pure place like a mosque or . . . a pure green eyed girl. "Stop making me out to be some helpless schoolboy. I can leave now if I want to, but I choose to stay."

"Fuck you, Im! I know why you choose to stay!" His brother's identical eyes like his own shimmered with frustration and pent up anger. "You stay because you're so fucking scared that one day I'll go and get myself killed. I don't need you to be a fucking bodyguard for me, don't you get it?"

In response, he merely chucked the used cigarette across the railings. It swirled in a manner like a leaf - its final glow extinguishing just before it landed on the road. Empty. That was how he felt. That was how he always felt. But after coming back from that godforsaken valley, he was feeling it more than ever. And a part of him - a strong, stubborn part of him refused to admit that perhaps for the first time, he had begun to feel complete. In her presence.

A sly smile worked up on his brother's face causing Imad to raise an eyebrow. Fahad was too perceptive while also managing to be a complete insensitive dick to practically everyone. But with a desperation, the younger twin wished his brother had not managed to realise that his heart had become somewhat attached to that valley.

"That black eye you gave me has fucking left a mark on my handsome face!" He snorted, rubbing the darkened area with a grin. "You sure act like a girl, but boy you definitely punch like a man. Do me a favor and punch that asshole Uncle of ours."

Imad sneered with disgust. "If that's how desperate you are to die, only say the word next time. I'll chuck you off this rooftop by myself."

He laughed airily. "I could say the same about you, chote (young one)! Going ahead and falling in love with the enemy's girl - man, you really are fucking batshit crazy!"

Dread and a cold fear encompassed his heart. He knew. Of course, he would have known. Imad could play and pretend to be someone else for the rest of the world, but never could he fool his blithering idiot of an older brother. Goddamn it. But for Fahad to call his attachment to the girl as love suddenly raised a thousand questions within him. Love - surely he wasn't in love with her. He loved no one except his brother. He would never dare to love a woman again - his mother had shown him what a grave mistake that had been.

"Just go to sleep and let me think."

"No doubt about that green-eyed chick. What was her name again? Shahree? Shireen? Shahzade?"

"Nazli." Imad growled, turning to Fahad with an eyebrow raised. "Why the hell are you thinking of the sarbarah's (leader's) daughter?"

His brother merely raised a confused brow before realization dawned upon him. "Oh hell no, bro! Why the hell would I think about that crazy hellcat? Damn, you know the scratches she gave me eight days ago are still fresh! Look!" He rolled up his sleeve and gestured to his pale arm which was free of any scars.

Imad said nothing, merely turning away to look at the horizon again. His brother perhaps was as confused as he was. But unlike Fahad, he was not unaware of what was happening to him. The girl had left a longlasting impression upon him - one that was engulfing him in a spiral of confusion and desire. He desired her . . . company more than he desired anyone else's. And that realization was momentous because nothing had mattered more than Fahad.

'"You know what I say, Immy? I say you go back to Gilgit with a hundred sheep and horses. That's a bloody good mahr*, huh? Offer them to that old man and voila, get married! Afterwards, you can buy a land in the valleys of Hunza and raise a dozen blonde brown eyed little Imads? Good plan, no?"

"Shut. Up." A brick came flying at Fahad's face, but he ducked just in time saving his nose from flattening like a pressed tomato. The brick cracked on the wall behind him resounding loudly. His father banged the door from the room below threatening to come up and whip them good. Fahad snorted. His father's bones would be broken in a thousand ways if he so dared to lay a finger upon them again. They were no longer weak little boys.

"Or you could just sit by and watch as she sires little blonde black-eyed Asadullahs!"

Imad's head snapped to face him so quickly, Fahad got a whiplash. "What?" He hissed dangerously, his jaw tightening and knuckles white with tension. Asadullah? What the fuck did Asadullah have to do with any of this?

Fahad chuckled, raising his nose in the air and deciding to tease his brother a little. He loved having the upper hand over him sometimes. While Imad was as deep as the Marianna Trench, he was also somewhat oblivious to the feelings of others. Fahad, on the other hand never missed an emotion - not even the slightest flicker on the face even in the dark.

"Don't fucking test me, Fez. Why the fuck did you say that?"

"You're not blind, bro. Asadullah was restless like a pregnant woman around that girl. He's never been like that with any chick - not even Sara."

Imad was not convinced. "She had the power to fuck up that deal for him. He had to be on her good side to get Shah Zaman to agree."

"Ah, but that's what you think!" Fahad smirked, pulling out his own branded cigarette and lighting it with a click. "Asad couldn't peel his lusty eyes from her! I think he's probably regretting that he couldn't bed her. She was a catch, after all - oops!" He smiled guiltily when Imad shot him a murderous look.

"Asad is barely interested in anything other than being the leader of the Mafias. He wouldn't care about some insignificant farm girl."

His brother yawned loudly. "Sure, sure! Keep telling yourself that, Immy. But you might just be surprised that you and Asadullah are not so different after all, hmm?" And before Imad could even retort a response back, his brother snored loudly - the lit cigarette still hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Imad almost had a heart to leave the cigarette there. His brother had addled his brain more than before and he couldn't help, but abhor him a little for it. Before the question had been why the girl had overtaken his mind. Now the question was why she had done the same to his leader's mind. And why that seemingly bothered him so much.

Surely, Fahad had to be wrong. He had to be wrong. There was no explanation as to why Asadullah would ever be interested in a girl like Nazli. She was not his type - nothing like Sara who he had once upon a time been involved with. That story had a horrific ending to it - Sara had betrayed Asadullah for Khalid thus commencing an everlasting hatred that would bloom in his heart for his half-brother. In the end, Sara had left Khalid too - taking off with all his early inheritance share, but forever leaving a feud that would perhaps go down in the history of Sikandar Khan's legacy.

Imad sympathized with Asadullah even though his sympathy was always scorned by him. His cousin was complex - having seen his father kill his own flesh and blood and then lead his broken-hearted mother to her death. At the time, Sara had come into his life like a breath of fresh air - innocent and untouched by their cold, dark world. But behind her face of innocence, she was sinister - always in the hunt for power and money. Asadullah had brushed off her disloyalty and betrayal like nothing had happened, but both Imad and Fahad knew that he grieved for her long after she was gone.

So why Nazli? She had an innocent face like Sara's and was as seemingly untouched by the underground world they came from. Was this why Asadullah was so drawn to her? Because he was searching for Sara in her? But why should he - knowing that Nazli could very well be another wolf in a sheep's clothing?

An image of a blushing, wide eyed girl entered his mind. He chuckled lowly, leaning his head on the wall behind him. No chance. She wore her expressions on her face that even he had no problem with deducing them. She was as clear as the blue sky - as bright as the dotted starry night above him. Perhaps Asadullah had seen that - her clarity and plain truthfulness that shone from her expressive eyes. Perhaps that was what he had seen in her too and had now become so drawn to her that separation was bothering him immensely.

Another question sprang to his mind. Between the voice of his heart or the loyalty that run within his veins, which one would prevail? With that, he finally closed his eyes and did not open them until the tiniest flicker of sunlight shimmered from the horizon.

The call to prayer began.

Allahu Akbar!

Allahu Akbar!

With heavy eyes, his hand went to his trouser pocket to check the time. He doubted he had slept more than two hours, but once again he was glad to be awake at the time of the adhaan. But that relief suddenly changed to a fearful foreboding.

A message had come in a few minutes ago. From Asadullah.

Get yourselves ready. We are going back to the valley.