Shivers and chills had nearly sent her soul to the next world. She had never felt so ill before in her life - two crippling fears seizing her heart and brain till all she could do was run around wild like a half-dead zombie. Her petite house owner, Shireen had tried to coax her into eating, but all that had come back out minutes later. Even something simple like drinking water made her want to violently retch.

Shireen once again looked at the clock - the evening call to prayer had just sounded and it had been five hours since Nazli had made the call. In those five hours, Nazli had passed out twice, vomited thrice times, and endlessly cried. About a gazillion times, she had nearly gone running out of the house looking for Shahrazad, but Shireen had always managed to stop her. But the same restlessness was growing in Nazli again and Shireen wasn't sure how long she could possibly stop the girl. Not to mention, she had gone from looking her best to a corpse in the span of a few hours.

Feeling slightly guilty, Shireen dropped a sleeping pill in the mint tea she had prepared for the blonde girl. Something in her heart told her that Nazli would not last another drastic episode before she truly passed out for good. Especially since she kept feeling dreadful by the passing minute indicating that any news or the man himself would be standing on their doorstep. At least this way, she could avoid an encounter with the man - Shireen only hoped that Asadullah would not turn his anger on her.

"Nazli." She muttered, holding out the cup and saucer towards the girl. The girl stared at it momentarily before continuing her stride of worry. "Drink this at least - it will make you feel better."

"I don't want to feel better!" She erupted as she had done many times before. "Shahrazad is in that state because of me! I have no right - no right at all to feel better!"

"Shahrazad will not want to see you in this state! Imagine if Asadullah brings her back - how will she feel to see you looking like a corpse? Nazli!" Shireen grabbed the girl's shoulder and shook her urgently. "You do not know what conditions Shahrazad might be in when she returns . . ." At her words, Nazli paled even further. ". . . but think of this - you need to be strong for her sake!"

Tears pooled in her green orbs at the implication of her words. She had to be strong. Strong for Shahrazad. Shahrazad had been so strong for her - when Asadullah was taking her away with him, she had stepped forward to protect her and remain with her. Had the tables been turned, Nazli was not sure if she could have done half of what Shahrazad had done for her. But Shireen was right - how could she so selfishly wreck herself in moments when Shahrazad required her to be strong?

Grabbing the tea with an urgency, Nazli downed it so fast that she felt warmth spreading from her toes to her head. For a few moments, she continued marching from one end to another of the room until the waves of the drug began to take effect. Shireen barely managed to get her to the bedroom when she hit the bed and fell into a deep slumber.

"It will be okay," Shireen whispered before draping a blanket over her and pulling her golden hair from underneath her to rest behind her on the pillow. "At least this way, he might feel some pity for you and won't kill you."

But Shireen knew that these were only false hopes. Asadullah was a man who hated betrayal - he would never forgive either of them for the escapade they pulled a few months ago. Unfortunately, men like Asadullah did not show mercy - not even to those who were innocent in his game of webs and lies.

***

An hour later, Shireen had nearly dozed off when someone pounded on her weak door. She was sure if they tried hard enough, the door would have come off its hinges, but she just about managed to get her scarf and open the door. Instantly, the air thickened, and the night became chillier.

Men - a dozen if not more stood behind the tall mafia leader. For once Shireen was lost for words at his sight - he had such a presence to render one speechless. Yet, soon her sanity and courage returned and she quickly noticed how disheveled his appearance was. Almost as if he had rushed over with great urgency. Was he so desperate to pass judgment on Nazli for her betrayal? If so, Shireen vowed that she would protect her friend till her last.

"S-s-sir!" She squeaked as he raised a fine brow at her. Then his eyes looked past her and they seemed oddly concerned.

"Where is she?" Even the way he spoke struck fear deep into one's heart. Shireen couldn't help but wonder what could possibly make a man into someone like him.

"A-Asleep, sir. I gave her a relaxant because she was driving herself sick to worry-!" Quickly she sidestepped as he entered her small humble abode and headed straight toward the bedroom. Shireen took a brief moment to calm her racing heart at her first-ever closest contact with the frightening man before tailgating him into the room.

By the time she arrived at the doorway, he was already standing over the girl - lean fingers trailing from her cheek to her forehead. They stayed for a few minutes there before he turned his cold onyx orbs in her unfortunate direction.

"She has a raging fever." He accused. Oh, Allah, please save me from this miserly death, Shireen prayed earnestly in her heart.

"S-She was . . . crying and-and-and she wouldn't eat or-or-or drink, so I had no choice but to gethertosleep!" The last part of her sentence seemed incomprehensible to even her, but Asadullah continued to stare at her silently, his expression unchanging.

Finally, when she could bear it no longer, Shireen decided to overstep her boundaries and perhaps sign off her life. He would kill her for asking anything from him, but she had to know. She had to know if Shahrazad was okay.

"Sh-Shahrazad?" Shireen could manage no more than this. He was still staring at her intently as if assessing her on every good or bad deed she had ever done in life.

"Alive." He muttered darkly, his expression looking murderous, but for once not directed at her. "But never the same." The words were spoken so lightly that Shireen nearly missed them with the howling wind outside her house. But now she knew - she knew that Shahrazad's honor had been stripped from her. She had been raped.

Asadullah turned once again towards the slumbering girl. This time, he barely looked at her before she was in his arms. A gasp escaped Shireen, but one glare from Asadullah silenced her. She stood there awkwardly as he adjusted the girl in his arms and no matter how much Shireen tried to avoid the thought, she couldn't. This man and her friend looked strangely perfect together. It was a sight straight out of a teenage romance book - a comparison of two spectrums - good and bad, yin and yang, light and dark, day and night, Hades and Persephone, Asadullah and Nazli. Two people who complimented each other so well that for once Shireen wondered if this was a mere coincidence - surely Allah had destined them together.

"Did you not hear me?" His voice was tinged with irritation and Shireen snapped out of her reverie. "I said, bring her and Shahrazad's belongings. Every single thing - even the smallest object that belonged to them."

"I . . ., but sir, what-where are you-!"

"Shahrazad needs her." This was enough for Shireen to get moving. But she was no fool - him asking her to gather their belongings only meant one thing - that her friends were to never return here again. And for once, Shireen prayed that he would take them to a better place than this city where they had once again suffered so much.

***

Asadullah did not question when the girl who had been housing his wife and sister-in-law jumped into his Land Rover. He was not particularly concerned with her presence or even what she had done to get his wife to sleep. One touch on her face had told him how sick she had become with the news and he had no doubt that half of her sickness also stemmed from dreading to be in his presence again.

Truth be told the sudden terrible turn of events had even disturbed him. His mind flashed back to a few hours ago when he had traced Shahrazad's whereabouts from the tip-offs his men had given him. Fahad had forcefully accompanied him while Imad . . . had stayed at home base. Still, none of them had expected to find the girl in such horrific conditions - Asadullah suppressed a shudder at the thought of being only minutes too late. At least, she was alive, perhaps forever scarred, but alive.

Fury. He had seldom felt such intense dark rage in his heart - so intense that it consumed his soul. His chest tightened even further when he could see the girl clearly. This was the girl who had stood in his path months ago with a gun - the girl whom his cousin also somewhat feared? Her thin white arms were dusted with black-blue bruises where savage fingers had dug into her flesh. Her kameez was in tatters, barely in place to hide her honor and it fell just long enough to hide her nether regions. Still, he was able to spot blood - dried and cakey mixed with the sin of man, and once again, he had a savagery almost consume him. Beside him, he felt Fahad losing control - his body trembling with uncontrollable rage.

Before Asadullah had a mind to stop him from rushing into a conflict with no plan, his cousin had already shed off his blazer and gently thrown it on the girl, and disappeared into the farm. And such a motion was enough to awaken the small girl. A scream so pained pealed from her and Asadullah was quickly by her side. She reacted as he had expected - her small hands slapping at his, her nails landing several scratches on his hair and face. Still, he did not exert force allowing her to instead spend hers.

Before she collapsed again, he had already knelt with one knee so she could rest her back. She was still trembling - a mania in her eyes that made her seem no longer human or the little girl he remembered fighting against him and his men.

"Shahrazad," he whispered, careful not to touch her more than the required amount to hold her up. "Nazli sent me. To find you. Nazli, your sister who loves you."

At first, she stared at him - her expression unchanged, but the more he repeated the same words again and again, the more clarity began to emerge. "Nazli?" She weakly asked, her disorientated blue eyes pooling with realization.

Asadullah nodded and pushed his lips as far as he was able to into a smile. God knows how difficult it was for him at this moment. "You remember me, Shahrazad? Asadullah?"

She only stared - eyes vigilant and untrusting. He leaned back as if to say he was no threat, but this time the distrust on her face was quickly replaced with panic. She clung to him, with a desperation so intense that it made him remember things he did not wish to. But soon, he knew the situation was dire and he needed her to stay put - she was bleeding all over her back. He pulled his hand back and it was encompassed with fresh blood. Bastards - they had mutilated and left her for dead. For once, Asadullah was glad he was no law-abiding citizen and had half a mind to go to the farm and take his share of revenge. But the whimpering small girl in his arms stilled him.

"Shahrazad." He pushed himself back from her, but she clung to him even tighter. "You are hurt, Shahrazad. We need to go to a doctor, yes?" For once, he sorely wished Imad had been present. Despite everything that had transpired due to Imad's interference, Asadullah would be a fool to deny his cousin's medical caliber. Not to mention, Imad was particularly good with trauma victims. Perhaps this is how he had curried favor with Nazli, he thought with deep jealousy.

"DON'T LEAVE ME!" She wailed in his chest when he shifted again.

"I will not." This time he was merely adjusting Fahad's blazer so it could go around her legs. Keeping an arm around, he pulled off his own and covered her bloody back with it.

Pressing a finger to his Apple Watch, he waited until one of his men answered. "Bring the car around and call the hospital. Get a doctor ready."

When the car suddenly steered a little rashly, Asadullah snapped out of the nightmare he had just witnessed. He had promised Shahrazad that he would not leave her, and she would be none the wiser provided he arrived before her drug wore off. Fahad had refused to leave her side even when she had screamed at the sight of him.

A few moments had passed and Asadullah was relieved to see that Shahrazad was once again in a dormant stage. Her eyes were glossy - stuck in the nightmare she had just experienced, but at least she was no longer lashing out at him.

It was then that his cousin appeared, silent like a cheetah true to his name. Except for this time, he seemed nothing like an animal that had returned after victory. His eyes were hollow and ghostly and the sight of him covered in blood in perhaps every part of his body made Asadullah block the girl's vision from him.

However, it was too late. Shahrazad met eyes with his cousin and screamed loudly again - thrashing in his firm embrace. "Make him go away! Make him go away!" She yelled, non-stop.

Asadullah glared at Fahad silently before nodding his head toward the side. Hopefully, he would leave before things got even messier, but he was not surprised when Fahad did the opposite. He approached the girl with an urgency, crouching beside them as she grew more and more hysterical.

"Fahad." Asadullah hissed, pointedly putting himself between the two. But his deranged cousin continued to stare at the girl with a deep urgency.

"Shahrazad . . . kitty, I took care of them. They'll never hurt you again."

The girl screamed so loud when his blood-covered hand approached her then and Asadullah slapped it away. "Leave." He growled, having had quite enough.

He knew Fahad was particularly low on his emotional quotient side, but never had he expected him to be so foolish. A girl gang raped by countless men did not need to see her culprits' executioner. Hell, it was a miracle she had trusted even him.

By the time, Fahad had risen, his eyes still in a trance and bewitched by the girl, Asadullah found Shahrazad passed out cold. With a newfound urgency, he quickly rushed over to the hospital. Only then in those moments did he allow himself to think of his wife.

He knew her disposition - she was frightened to even have made the call to him. But it had warmed his heart when he realized that she had considered him to be a savior for once instead of an enemy. Yet, he had terribly failed. He could not save Shahrazad - an innocent from the sinful hands of devils. He was a mafia, yes, but never ever had men under him dared to do what these men had done to a defenseless girl.

Finally, when the car stilled, Asadullah allowed himself to resurface to the present moment. Nazli was still in his arms, her flyaway baby hair tickling his face, but she was still out cold. For once he was glad that she was not awake - she would need all her strength to process what had happened to Shahrazad. Perhaps it would do more damage to her than it would to Shahrazad.

Another thought occurred to him then. What if it had been her? What if she had been there instead of Shahrazad? Fear and rage crippled him for a second and unconsciously his arms wrapped around her midriff tighter. He was barely holding on to the last bits of his patience for he had all the mind to burn this entire city to the ground for what they had done to his sister-in-law. If it had been his wife, then only Allah could know the limitless fury he would bestow on this city.

But perhaps it had been his fault too. He had been aware of his wife and sister-in-law's location for a while now. Yet, he had given them leeway - relaxation and time before he went back to reclaim what was his. That had been a colossal mistake on his part and Shahrazad was bearing the brunt of it. Never again would he make the same mistake again.

"No more running." He whispered silently in his wife's ear. In response, she buried her face in his chest and tightened her arms around his torso.

He couldn't stop the pleased smile that emerged on his face and finally closed his eyes in the now quiet Land Rover. The driver had stepped out and the other girl had already run inside. Shahrazad would sleep for another few hours to come and he would use that time to sit here beside his wife. For this was the closest he had ever reached her.

And a strange part of him did not wish for this time to end.