When Maya pushed open the door to her room, she stopped mid-step.
Someone was lying comfortably on her bed.
Her eyes narrowed. A second later, she recognized him.
Arif.
He was resting on one elbow, his head supported by his hand, watching her as if he had been waiting for hours. There was something dangerously calm in his gaze.
Maya didn't react immediately. Instead, she walked in slowly and sat down on the mini sofa placed opposite the bed. She crossed one leg over the other, resting both hands on the sofa arms, posture composed, expression sharp.
Arif's eyes followed her every movement.
Finally, Maya spoke in a cold, firm voice.
"It's quite late. Why did you leave your room and come into mine? Feeling anxious? Can't sleep because of me? That won't do. If you lose sleep before the real game even begins, how will you survive what's coming? Rest while you still can. The coming days won't let you sleep even if you beg for it."
Arif's lips curved faintly.
"My sleep is gone, yes," he replied quietly. "But not because of fear. It's because I want what is mine… my wife."
Maya gave him a crooked smile.
"A thief and a police officer in love? That sounds interesting."
Arif chuckled softly. "If you say so, my dear wife."
Her eyes flashed. "Stop calling me that. Drop these third-class lines."
He stood up from the bed slowly, as if deliberately testing her reaction.
"Why so angry?" he teased lightly. "Come here."
But Maya didn't flinch. She remained still, her gaze sharp and unyielding. If Arif thought she would be intimidated, he was mistaken.
He knew enough about her background to understand something important—Maya was not someone who feared easily. If anything, she had the power to make others fear her.
If Maya was a lioness, Arif was a storm.
And though taming her wouldn't be easy, it wasn't impossible either.
Still, she was his wife. Without her, in this foreign land, Arif Khan would be alone.
With a dramatic sigh, he dropped back onto the bed and looked at the ceiling.
"Miss Ak7," he murmured, "prepare yourself to belong entirely to Arif Khan."
"Friendship doesn't suit enemies," Maya replied calmly.
Arif smirked. "Ah… so now the husband is the accused?"
"But I like it," she added quietly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you like villains… like your husband?"
Maya leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she moved closer to the bed.
"When he was my husband," she said evenly, "I liked him. But when he became a criminal… I hated him."
Arif's eyes darkened.
"If I'm both for you… which one will you choose?"
"That," she said softly, standing up, "time will decide."
She turned toward the balcony, but before she could take another step, Arif caught her wrist from behind.
Maya looked down at his hand gripping hers.
His veins were prominent, his grip strong—but surprisingly gentle. On his index finger was a black ring engraved with a lion emblem. A faint scar ran along the side of his hand, old but noticeable.
In one swift motion, Arif pulled her toward him.
Maya stumbled forward, her body colliding against his chest. His hand pressed against her waist, holding her close.
They stood there, inches apart.
Arif's gaze was cold and steady.
Maya's eyes burned with defiance.
"In the end," Arif said quietly, "both of us may fall into a terrible abyss. Before that happens… shall we at least finish the unfinished chapter of our marriage?"
Maya let out a soft, mocking laugh.
"Oh? So you're already afraid of your ending? I thought you'd say, 'Let's finish the fight first… then we'll write our sweet chapter together.' But it seems you're scared."
"I wasn't afraid before," he admitted. "Now, sometimes I am. Not for myself… but because I might lose you."
"When was I ever yours," Maya shot back, "that you're afraid of losing me? Stay away from me. I didn't come here to build a married life with you. You know exactly why I'm here. Don't try to create drama."
She stepped back, her voice firm.
"To society, we may be husband and wife. But that relationship will never exist between us. No matter how much you try, I won't fall into your trap. I will complete my mission and return to Bangladesh. And you—"
"There were things I planned to say later," Arif interrupted quietly. "Seems I'll have to say them sooner."
He released her and walked out of the room without another word.
It was nearly 2 AM.
Behind Centrumni Mansion, the maple garden lay silent under a thick layer of snow. The snowfall had stopped over an hour ago, leaving behind a frozen white landscape.
Maya stepped carefully through the snow, her boots sinking almost a foot deep with every step.
She had come to find her phone.
In her earlier anger, she had thrown it into the garden. But all her documents were inside. She needed it.
For thirty minutes, she searched desperately. The phone had likely been buried under layers of fresh snow. Tracking its location wasn't working either.
She stopped and examined the ground carefully, estimating the possible range where it might have fallen. Using a stick, she marked a rough boundary and began digging with her bare hands.
The cold bit into her skin. Her fingers turned red and numb.
This wouldn't work.
She needed proper tools.
Just as she turned to head back toward the mansion, something caught her eye.
Two shadowy figures.
They were moving deeper into the maple garden.
Maya froze.
At first, she thought she was mistaken. But no—there were definitely two people.
Their voices drifted faintly through the air.
Before she could process it, several more figures suddenly appeared and surrounded them.
An attack.
From a distance, Maya couldn't see clearly. She took a step forward… then stopped herself.
Recklessness wouldn't help.
The attackers seemed to overpower the two figures and drag them further into the darkness.
A sound from another direction made her turn sharply.
Near one side of the mansion stood three men dressed in black. Their faces were covered. Guns glinted in their hands.
At first, she assumed they were Arif's bodyguards.
Then gunshots rang out.
Bullets struck the mansion walls.
More shadows emerged—at least ten to fifteen armed men.
They were preparing to attack.
Maya's heartbeat quickened.
She had entered the garden earlier by climbing down from her balcony using tied bedsheets. She didn't know the security password for the main gate.
The attackers were not her team. If they were, she would have known.
Then who were they?
And where were Arif and Rick?
She made a decision.
Maya rushed back, climbed up using the makeshift rope of fabric, and slipped into her room.
She immediately grabbed a safety jacket and put it on. From her bag, she pulled out her handgun and loaded the magazine with steady hands.
Should she warn Arif and Rick?
Why should she?
They had enough security.
They could handle it.
Yet something inside her refused to stay still.
She hurried to their rooms.
Empty.
Both of them were gone.
Suddenly, the mansion alarm blared loudly through the halls.
Security breach.
Maya's pulse raced.
Where were the guards? Why was no one visible?
If the attackers broke in, she would be the first target.
She inhaled deeply, twice.
"Don't panic," she whispered to herself. "You're a fighting champion. You can handle this."
Gun raised, she moved toward the stairs.
Outside, metal clanged against the gate.
They were trying to force entry.
The house felt eerily empty.
Too empty.
Elsewhere.
In a dimly lit room, a single overhead light flickered.
A young man sat tied to a wooden chair at the center. His hands and feet were bound tightly. His clothes were torn, his face bruised.
He looked barely conscious.
The door creaked open.
Arif and Rick stepped inside.
Another man, Mack, was already present, standing nearby.
Arif stopped in front of the captive.
"Has he said anything?" Arif asked coldly.
Mack shook his head. "Nothing useful. Keeps saying he doesn't know."
Rick's expression hardened. "We don't have time to babysit him."
Mack picked up a metal bat lying in the corner.
What followed was brutal—but restrained. The sound of impact echoed through the room. The captive cried out in pain.
Arif watched silently, emotion unreadable.
Rick turned away first.
Their thirst for answers remained unquenched.
Outside, chaos was unfolding.
Inside, secrets were tightening like a noose.
And somewhere in between—Maya stood alone, gun in hand, unaware that the night's events were about to collide in ways none of them expected.
To be continued…