I sat there, long after the man had left, my mind reeling from everything he had told me. His words pressed down on my chest, heavy as a thousand-pound stone. Azan. Razeal. The twisted game they had played with my life. Every detail, every choice that had led me to this moment, burned in my mind. My escape from Azan's world felt like a distant dream, but the man's words made it all feel so real, too real.
He had told me about Azan's pride, his need to control everything — everyone. First, by forcing me into marriage, then by kidnapping Rayan, and then by making me carry his child. A child I never wanted, but who now existed inside me. The thought alone made my stomach churn.
I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to make sense of it all. Azan had always believed he could control me. His world, his rules, his way. From the very beginning, he had expected me to accept my fate without question. And I had. Until Rayan came into my life, until everything changed. I had never wanted to marry Azan. I had never wanted his child. But here I was, pregnant with his child, and trapped in the consequences of choices I never made.
The thought of Azan's pride, his delusions of control, made my skin crawl. Even after everything, even after what he had done to me, he still believed he could possess me. I was just another one of his prizes, his trophies. But what I realized, as the man had spoken, was that Azan hadn't learned anything. He was still the same man, driven by his need to control, his obsession with owning me.
Then there was the moment I hadn't expected. The moment Azan threw himself in front of a bullet meant for my father. I hadn't asked for that. I didn't want that. But it happened. And now, I had to figure out how to deal with the aftermath. Azan was human, just like anyone else. His pride had cost him, but that didn't change the fact that he was still the same person who had tortured me with his demands, his manipulations.
The image of Azan standing in front of my father flashed in my mind again. He had been so desperate to protect his twisted world, to keep his hold on me, that he had sacrificed himself. Had he believed that would redeem him? Had he thought that by taking a bullet, he could erase the years of control he had placed over me?
No. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
I shivered, the cold truth sinking in deeper with each passing second. Azan's sacrifice hadn't changed anything. He hadn't changed. His obsession with me was just as consuming as it had always been. He was still out there, and he wasn't done with me. Not yet.
The man's voice echoed in my head as I recalled everything he had said. "Azan wouldn't let go." Those words resonated within me like a warning. I had thought, for a brief moment, that escaping him had meant I was free. But Azan wouldn't stop. Not until he had me again. Not until he had everything he thought was rightfully his.
Rayan had come for me. He had fought for me, and together, we had married, just like we had always dreamed. But that didn't stop Azan's fury. When he walked into the ceremony, too late to stop us, his eyes had burned with rage. And I had seen it. His belief that he had lost me. That he had lost control of me. The realization crashed over him, and his pride couldn't bear it.
I thought back to that moment, the chaos that unfolded as Azan stormed into the room, unable to accept my choice. But there was something worse than the fury I had seen in his eyes: the realization that no matter what he did, he couldn't stop me from marrying Rayan. He couldn't control me anymore.
But then came the moment I hadn't expected — Azan, in his desperation, threw himself in front of a bullet meant for my father. He had made a choice, a choice that cost him. The man I had feared, the man who had controlled me for so long, had sacrificed himself for someone else. And in that moment, I couldn't decide if I should feel relief or guilt. Azan wasn't dead, but his pride had been broken. He had lost something in that moment. His belief that he could control everything. His belief that I was his.
The image of Azan standing in front of that bullet lingered in my mind. Did he believe that would make him the hero? Did he think that one act would erase everything?
No. It wouldn't work. Azan could never erase what he had done. His sacrifice didn't change who he was or what he had taken from me. It didn't make up for the pain he had caused.
I had made my choice. I had chosen Rayan. He was with me now, and we had something Azan could never understand: freedom. But even that couldn't protect me from Azan's wrath. He wouldn't let go. I could feel it in my bones. He would come for me. He would never stop coming for me.
My fists clenched at my sides as I thought of what was to come. How far would Azan go? How much would he be willing to sacrifice to get me back? I didn't know, but I feared the worst. He wouldn't stop until he had me again.
I thought back to when I had poisoned him. I had done it to survive, to make him believe that he couldn't have children. That the child growing inside me wasn't his. I had woven a web of lies, carefully constructed to break him, to make him think he was infertile. And it had worked. He believed the lie. He believed he couldn't have children, and for a moment, I was free.
But that freedom had come at a cost. The guilt, the fear, the lies. They haunted me every day. I didn't want to deceive him like that, but what choice did I have? If it had meant I could escape him, then I would do it again.
But now, I had to figure out what came next. Azan knew nothing about the pregnancy. He still didn't know the truth. And when he found out, when he realized the child was his, everything would change.
Azan's rage would know no bounds. And I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready for what would happen when he finally came for me.
But one thing was clear: I wouldn't back down.
I wasn't the girl I used to be. The girl who was trapped in Azan's world. I wasn't the girl who had accepted her fate without question. No. I had made my choice. And Azan would never take that from me.
I stood up, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. There was no going back. There was no more running. I had chosen this path, and I would see it through, no matter what.
Azan could come for me, he could rage and fight and destroy everything in his path, but I wasn't backing down.
Not this time.
This time, I was ready.