Arhan was so lost in giving his breath to Jannat's lips that he didn't even notice the faint movement in her lifeless body.
Jannat, feeling suffocated by the forced closeness, somehow gathered the strength to open her eyes.
And there he was—leaning over her, lost in the intoxication of her lips.
With all the strength left in her, she pushed at him, trying to get him off.
Arhan blinked, as if waking from a dream, the taste of her lips still fresh in his mouth.
In that moment, he had forgotten his revenge… forgotten his brother's blood… all he knew was the rush of her scent and softness.
Jannat glared at him, her voice sharp with anger,
"How dare you touch me? Have you forgotten your brother's death?
At that time, you spoke so much about revenge—what happened to that now?"
Arhan's eyes hardened.
"Shut your mouth. You don't have the worth for me to form any kind of relationship with you."
Meanwhile, ever since Sardar Abbas Khan had returned from Ada's neighborhood,
his mind was restless.
He kept remembering the mole on Ada's waist, her scent, her elegance.
Even now, dressed only in a black sleeveless slip that clung to his body,
he was busy doing push-ups in his room.
Sweat beaded his forehead, damp hair stuck to his face,
his muscular arms gleamed pale under the dim light.
No matter how hard he tried, Abbas couldn't erase Ada from his mind.
Grabbing his white kurta-pajama from the wardrobe,
he stepped into the bathroom.
Soon, the sound of running water filled the space,
and under the shower, his shirtless form revealed the hard lines of his chest and abs.
Muttering to himself, he said,
"No matter what, I will protect those girls from Ada.
Even if it costs me everything… even if I have to marry a courtesan."
Ada, meanwhile, was lost in her own thoughts of Abbas.
She sat on the swing in her courtyard, wearing a white kurta-pajama with a long golden-embroidered dupatta.
Her fair face, flawless with makeup,
long golden hair spilling down her shoulders,
made her look like a dream.
A young woman, around 25–27, dressed in traditional attire,
with dark eyes, red lipstick, and dusky beauty,
came up to the rooftop and called out,
"Ada, what is this I'm hearing?
Sardar Abbas Khan came to meet you?
And that too, in your own room?
Before this, you never allowed any man here.
Whoever came, you would break their hands and feet.
And now you've set a condition that you'll marry him?
Maybe you've forgotten—no one marries a courtesan.
No bridal procession comes into Heera Mandi."
Ada lifted her chin and replied firmly,
"He is not like the others.
He will marry me. I am sure of it."
On the other side, Abbas had already made up his mind.
He would marry Ada, to protect the honor of those girls,
no matter what it took.
After offering the Fajr prayer in the morning,
he dressed in a crisp white kurta-pajama with a waistcoat,
looking devastatingly handsome,
and set out toward Heera Mandi—
his heart steady on the decision to marry Ada.