♛

The black lexus sped through the empty road with never ending fields on either side.

He had taken over the driver seat mid-way and told the driver who had been driving since dawn to rest at the back and it was almost evening now. The driver had complied unwillingly.

He had sent the rest of his men beforehand as he didn't want to be a spectacle on entering the town with half a dozen expensive cars. He'd leave that sort of presentation for later. And anyway, he was a one man army.

Soon small farmhouses and factories came into view. He steadied himself in his seat and swallowed hard. His mind was racing at a speed higher than his car.

He saw a myriad of memories flash in front of his eyes in a millisecond. Smiles and screams. Flowers and gunshots. And then all his memories were muddled in blood.

He had gone from here with vow to never return. And now he was breaking that vow. But he was going to make it worth it.

"You always, always come back to your roots."

The driver answered with a particularly loud snore.

♕

"Wake up!" The aged man shouted repeatedly. "Ryan you little brat! Get up!"

But the girl drooling on the desk hardly budged.

Suddenly she murmured in her sleep. "Bad, bad dog. Dont pee here."

The man's anger multiplied timesfold.

"WAKE UP YOU NONSENSE!"

She shot up from the table like a rocket from ground, displacing all the items on the table in her frenzy.

"Sir ji!" she sputtered. Her voice was raspy, not because of the sleep but rather naturally.

He sat on a chair, still breathing heavily in anger, "Next time you fall asleep in the office, you'll find yourself waking up in a garbage can."

She rubbed her eyes, squinting mischievously at him through her long eyelashes, "Is that what you sneak out of your house for at nights, Mr. Iqbal? To collect garbage? Does your wife know what a nocturnal bat you are?"

The man steadied hisself, averting his gaze sheepishly as sweatbeads appeared on his forehead. How in seven hells did she know about his late night rendezvous?

"Your bal- blackmailing t-tactics won't work with me." He stuttered. The dread of his wife finding out about his gambling habits with his friends made him stumble over his words.

She gave a slumberous smile, "Blackmail is more effective than bribery. So I had to try. Sorry."

He cleared his throat, and collected his bossiness, "Y-you were supposed to investigate about Mr. Harzai's murder with your brother. I asked for the report in the morning. What were you doing?"

"Yoga." she answered softy, dozing off again.

"Ryan!"

Still not opening her eye, she murmured in reply, "it looks like I have to bribe you after all. Name your price, old man. I'll pay you after I fall sleep."

He clenched his teeth. "Shut up! I'm your boss! Now go with your brother and get me a report completed by Friday or I'm clipping it off your wages."

"Yes, Mr. kickball," her eyes widened at her mistake, "I- I mean Iqbal. Mr. Iqbal."

♛

Sufyan slurped on his juice making an unpleasant noise. Ryan frowned at her brothers ill-manners and slurped even louder. They sat in their car outside a restaurant munching on snacks.

Sufyan shuffled through a bundle of papers. "I don't think it has anything to do with any business rivals or something. His dealings are always squeaky clean."

"I think I found my inner peace, you know, after that yoga." Ryan said in deep thought. Frowning she added, "But I think I lost it back during that nap."

"I think his brother, that Akram Harzai, has some hand in this. That guy seemed shifty."

"But still, I feel different. Do you think I could perform telepathy on you now?" Ryan asked, utterly uninterested in the task at hand.

"Shut up and help me with this. We really should investigate on that Akram Harzai. I'm sure we'll get something on him. "

Ryan frowned. "Why are you so interested in Mr. Harzai's brother?"

"You don't know some of these rich people. They'll kill their family in greed. Akram Harzai was the sole heir of Mr. Harzai's wealth, property and businesses. So he had a solid motive. It makes sense."

Ryan slurped her juice all in one go, "Nuh uh. He hardly gets a nappy... Astaghfirullah I mean penny."

Sufyan looked at her, confused.

Ryan paused seeing the clueless look on his face, instantly perking up. "Woah. I had no idea the famous Sufyan Siddique the jewel of journalism, the distinguished hero of townsfolk, the apple of Mr. FigBall's eye was so ignorant. I, as your little sister and a novice journalist am ashamed of you, Sufi." She ended with a disappointed tsk-tsk.

Sufyan rolled his eyes, urging her on.

"You seriously don't know? Our latest dear Mr. Harzai, no wait—dearest late—no—"

"The point,  Ryan."

"He's gone bankrupt."

Sufyan spitted his juice out in shock, all over Ryan's face.

Ryan let out a light scream. Sufyan involunatrily laughed, earning a smack from Ryan. Provoked, he slapped her back. After that Ryan broke loose on her brother like a wild cat, he too pulled at her black hair.

"Ah! you bastard!"

"Witch!"

"Buffalo!"

"Go and wash yourself, you smell like orange juice." Sufyan grimaced backing away in his seat.

"Yeah, thank you very much, I have your highness's spit on me." Ryan retorted before getting out of the car, slamming the door purposely.

"Hey watch it! Its only 5 years old!" Sufyan shouted out of the window.

"Like its owner!" She retorted.

She cleaned herself in the restaurant's washroom before walking out. Having a second thought she turned back towards the restaurant to get more food. It was a habit of hers to eat endless food when angry.

Just as she turned she stumbled into someone. And once more wet cold water fell on her shirt. She gasped, both from the cold and from shock.

"Do you have eyes or buttons?" An irritated voice said.

"I have pies. You're the one who has bosoms!" Ryan grumbled in anger, dusting herself.

"Huh?"

She looked up realizing her words and the gender of the voice. Her eyes widened as she did a double take.

It was a man in a casual brown coat and dress pants. Correction. It was a pretty good-looking man. He had sparkling blue eyes and dark black messy hair, a pretty pair of lips, but certainly no bosom. For a second Ryan thought she had ran into a poster. But posters don't talk. He, on the other hand, thought he had ran into a crazy girl.

Ryan's voice rasped in her throat. "Ubba..uh..."

"Are you okay?" He asked in his tickling voice, now genuinely worried about the girl being mentally disturbed.

Getting back to her senses Ryan stepped back angrily, "Allah Allah! What's wrong with everyone today?!"

"It was your fault actually." The guy muttered, his worrisome creases vanished.

"My fault! Huh?! Excuse me Mister--" Ryan snapped up at this, pointing her finger at him accusingly.

His eyes darted to her threatening finger like an eagle on a prey, his aura suddenly all the more daunting. Ryan retracted her hand nervously as his eyes on her turned a shade darker.

Look at that arrogance! Ryan scoffed inwardly.

Her anger resurfaced once his stern expression faded. She was like that since childhood, a big scaredy-cat from the inside but a tough nut on the out. Only brave so long as dominant.

"Don't glare at me like that! I know cheapsters like you all too well. Lower your gaze right now or I'll shake of my toe!" She paused sensing something was wrong. "Erm...I mean I'll take off my shoe!"

"The first person I meet in this town, a mental. Oh my blessed luck." He murmured, clicking his tongue sarcastically. Before Ryan could quarrel back he surrendered dismissively, "Fine, fine, I apologize. It was my mistake."

He lowered his gaze in mock surrender as she had told him to but the next second he looked up at her, his mouth agape and eyes wide.

Ryan gritted her teeth unable to control in the anger. Clenching her fists she decided to leave before he got murdered at her hands.

"Wait!" He blocked her path when she sidetracked him to leave.

"Aye!" Ryan shouted at him, angered even more by his move. "What do you want huh? You want to see moons-er-stars in daylight with the help of my hands? Because—"

To her horror he began taking off his coat. Ryan looked around, the parking lot was empty except the cars and her brother was parked at the backside. All her combativeness drained away. She was a girl who was only bold in words, never in action. Tiny sweatbeads appeared on her forehead.

"Wha-what are you doing?" She began thinking of ideas of self-defence. Luckily before she could act upon the deadliest formula i.e a kick to the unmentionables, he spoke up.

"Wear this," he forwarded the coat with one hand while the other secretly untucked his shirt behind his back to hide the gun in his waistband.

Ryan stared at the coat.

She furrowed her brows. "No, you weirdo."

He scoffed a chuckle before suddenly leaning so close to her ear Ryan's breath caught in her throat, collarbones rising as she froze. His voice was an octave lower were when he husked, "I'm sure you have nice abs darling, but I'm not interested."

Confused, Ryan looked down to see the white wet cotton sticking to her skinny stomach, completely see-through.

She gasped, snatching the jacket from him and covering up.

"Maybe next time you won't mistake a gentleman for a pervert." He squinted as his turquoise eyes glinted in the red drowning sunlight, a part of him scoffing at his own words. Him? A gentleman? The gun felt a little heavier now.

Gripping at his coat tightly as if it was his neck, Ryan shot him a glare although her lightly freckled cheeks had gone crimson. "M-maybe next time, as a gentleman you won't spill lady on a water."

He let out a small ticklish chuckle at her jumbled words. At the word lady, however, his eyes did a mocking survey of her attire; a badly tucked white shirt with the sleeves of his designer coat folded in a way that annoyed him, beret on her open wild wavy hair, and sneakers with untied shoe laces.

Ryan felt like a thousands bugs crawled on her. She was fuming internally.

"The stuttering doesn't help with the sarcasm, dear." His eyes glinted amused at her inability to speak because of the immense anger.

"And you can keep the coat." He cocked his head as if addressing a child and felt the need to further rub in on her ego.

"You can find it by the Wall of Kindness first thing tomorrow." She quickly managed to blurt out, definitely not planning on taking any favours. "Hopefully still intact."

"At least you acknowledge my kindness."

He smiled finding her childish at best. Poor girl had no idea who she was talking to. He was content. That's how he wanted to keep it anyway.

And as he walked past her, his musky scent lingering after him, she let out the breath she had been holding. Composing herself she too strutted away angrily from there, her long black hair bouncing on her shoulders pompously.

Sufyan was asleep in his car. The sound of door slamming woke him up.

"What took so long?" He asked, starting the car, "and whose coat did you steal?"

Ryan made up an excuse saying she got it from the restaurant. She was in no mood to explain the whole scene. If her mood was off, it went worse with the news Sufyan gave her.

"Mom called saying she wants us home ASAP." He paused dramatically, "She told me not to tell you but Ali's family is coming for dinner."

Ryan scowled hearing her fiancé's name. Though she had only turned twenty days ago she had been engaged for a a few months now, courtesy of her mother's intense desire to get her married off as soon as possible.

As the son of a DIG Ali was as charming and kind as a guy could be. But that could not at all increase Ryan's interest in the marriage. She abhorred the idea of both men and marriage. To her it was just a handcuff waiting to be put on.
She had succeeded in scaring off suitors before but Ali had sticked by her side like a pest much to her dismay.

Sufyan side eyed her. She looked like she was plotting murder in her mind.

"Stop making that face, I don't know why you hate him. He's such a nice guy."

"If he's so nice then you marry him." Ryan gave him a sweet smile, "I'll support you don't worry brother."

Sufyan smacked her on the back of her head. "You should be grateful someone is even willing to marry you after how you scared away the last two men."

Ryan frowned at him. "Do you have no shame speaking to your sister like that? You're supposed to murder my suitors not feel sorry for them!"

"Before being your brother I'm a man with morals. And I have to side with the victims."

Ryan was left taking her anger out on her donuts as she stuffed them into her mouth.

Her mind went to the suave man earlier. Men. Useless.

She huffed, snuggling into the warm coat as a cold wind blew in through the open window.