“In the silence of Mussoorie, even his thoughts roared.”
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Mussoorie rested high above the noise, a town woven in wind and memory. Its narrow roads curved between old houses, where tradition hung heavier than the fog. Voices from distant houses drifted through the cold, and the pine-scented air carried stories that never really left. Haider had grown up in this silence, proud, steady, and certain of his place in the world. Down below, cities like Dehradun changed every day; up here, nothing ever did.
The sun had started to descend, spilling gold across everything it touched.
At the edge of an empty field, in the middle of that fading light, a middle-aged man stood trembling, surrounded by a circle of men in black suits, unreadable faces, the kind of silence that makes a heartbeat sound too loud.
“Please… let me go home,” the man cried, voice breaking. “I didn’t do anything…”
“Relax,” one guard said, tightening his grip. “Chote Malik sarkar will take good care of you.”
Before the man could protest again, a sleek black car slowed to a stop in front of them.
And instantly- instantly, the atmosphere shifted.
The guards straightened. The air stiffened. Silence snapped into place like a command.
One of them rushed forward to open the door.
A young man stepped out with the calm of someone who never needed to raise his voice to be feared.
White shirt. Black pants. Sleeves rolled up. Dark glasses hiding eyes that didn’t miss anything. A watch gleaming on his wrist.
But it wasn’t the clothes.
It was the presence.
He didn’t need to speak; his presence alone shifted everything.
The guards greeted him.
He didn’t respond, just walked forward with that steady, cold authority that froze the man’s blood faster than the mountain wind.
He removed his shades.
Those eyes alone could break someone.
“Chote sarkar, this is the man who deceived you,” Fajal said, pointing at him. “He tried to shake hands with our enemies.”
His jaw flexed.
He stepped closer. The man swallowed hard.
“You know the consequences of deceiving Haider Malik, don't you? When someone thinks he can outsmart me!” Haider said, voice low, almost calm. “Now you’ll feel them… practically.”
Before the man could beg, Haider grabbed him by the collar and slammed him to the ground.
“Fajal,” he said, not even looking back, “tie him in the backyard. I want every detail, names, motives, the whole story.
Tonight.”
Then he slipped his shades back on, turned around, and got inside the car like the matter was already finished.
⸻ ❦ ⸻
The Malik Mansion was calm as usual.
A maid was cleaning the cupboard when she suddenly found a neatly packed box. She frowned.
“Adiba bibi, look… this box wasn’t here earlier,” she said, handing it to Adiba, Haider’s mother.
“Whose is this? It’s not mine,” Adiba said, confused.
“Open it, bibi. We’ll see who it belongs to,” the maid suggested.
Curiosity tugged at her, and the next second she lifted the lid......
POP!
A toy sprang out so suddenly that both women screamed and jumped back.
A melodious laugh echoed through the hall. A girl peeked from behind the wall, laughing.
“So this was your prank?” Adiba said, putting a hand on her chest. “Maliha, sudhar jao.”
“Sorry, Ammi Sarkar, but your reaction was worth it!” Maliha giggled.
(Maliha = Haider’s younger sister.)
Just then, another woman walked in.
Samiha , her expression already annoyed. “What is going on here? It’s so late, and this mess is still everywhere.”
Her eyes snapped to the maid. “Parveen, is dinner ready?”
“In just a little time, Samiha bibi,” the maid said nervously, sweeping things up and rushed towards the kitchen.
“You do realize Malik Sarkar will be home any moment, right? He’s been out the whole day. Dinner should’ve been ready by now. Didn’t I tell you to finish things on time?”
“I’ll check on it. Don’t worry, Bhabhi. It’ll be ready before Bhai Jaan comes,” Adiba said gently, heading toward the kitchen.
-----
A few minutes later, several cars halted outside the gate. Guards rushed to open the main door.
“Does it take this long to open a door?” a stern voice said.
“No, Malik sarkar. Sorry,” the guard replied, stepping aside.
Muneeb, the eldest brother of the Malik family, had arrived.
Cold, strict, and obsessed with discipline. Everything had to be on time.
“Abbuu sarkar, salam! When did you come? I didn’t even notice!” Miral said, running down the stairs and hugging her father from the side.
“Walikum salam, beta. I just came.”
------
Dinner was served, and the table stayed unusually quiet until Muneeb finally spoke.
“Where are Saqib and Haider?”
“Saqib said he’s busy and will come late. Haider said the same,” Adiba replied.
He nodded once, then looked at Maliha. “How is your study going, beta?”
“Good, Taya sarkar.”
“Miraal beta,” Muneeb said sharply, glancing at her, “learn something from Maliha.”
“Ji, Abbu sarkar…” Miral murmured under her breath.
⸻ ❦ ⸻
At night, silence wrapped itself around the Malik Mansion.
The main gate creaked open and a man stepped inside, eyes red, jaw tight, veins standing out like he had swallowed fire. Haider walked straight toward his room, shoulders stiff, anger simmering.
Just then, a hand touched his shoulder.
He turned.
It was his mother.
"Where were you this whole time? And why weren’t you picking up my calls?" Adiba asked, her tone sharp.
"Ammi Sarkar…, I was with Abeer, yeah. He called me for dinner, so I went to his place," Haider replied in a single breath.
"Achhaaaaa…? Really?" Adiba raised a brow.
"Then why did Abeer call me saying you're not taking his calls? Clearly, tum uske saath nahi the."
Haider muttered nearly inaudible under his breath, “Saale ko chhodunga nahi…”
"What was that?" Adiba narrowed her eyes. "And now you’ve started lying to me too?"
Before he could reply, another voice cut in.
"Haider, you’re here. I was waiting for you, beta," Muneeb said from behind.
"Bhai sarkar, do you need anything?" Adiba asked, stepping aside.
Muneeb nodded, and she left reluctantly, glancing at Haider once more.
The moment she disappeared into her room, Muneeb’s expression hardened.
"Where were you? What happened regarding that matter? Did you find anything?"
Haider breathed out slowly, jaw tightening again.
"Yes, Taya Sarkar. It’s the Shahs behind everything."
Muneeb’s face darkened. "And now?"
Haider’s lips curled into a cold, dangerous smirk.
"Don’t worry. His game is about to be over, Taya Sarkar."
"Haider thought he had the whole game under control.
But the mountain winds were already changing, quietly preparing to bring someone into his path he’d never planned for."
❀ 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ 𓈒 𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𓈒 ࣪𓂃 ❀
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