WASHMA
"Hello, Ami... it's me Saima." Her voice came out rough, barely more than a whisper. The dam she'd been holding back broke .... tears spilled down her face.
Washma and Rozina watched her intently. Saima only hummed into the phone between sobs, brushing her cheeks with the edge of her scarf. After a few long minutes she set the phone down.
Both of them stared at her, searching for the mystery behind the phone. Saima paused for a moment, looking extremely pensive and sending off strange vibes about the conversation... and then she screamed.
"I did it... I actually did it!" she cried, laughter and tears tangled together as if she'd won a prize.
Washma and Rozina leaped up, sharing her joy.
"Washma," Saima said, looking at her with a gratitude so deep it seemed to ache, "I'm free... free from the guilt of losing my family because of my own foolishness." As the words left her lips, memories of how cruelly she had broken their hearts returned, and the tears came again.
"All's well that ends well," Washma soothed, patting her back. "Stop crying. Vacations are coming ... you'll be able to spend the whole month with them."
Saima cried, yet a faint smile lingered on her lips. She gazed at them, trying to open her mouth ... whether for an apology or words of gratitude...
"Don't," Rozina cut in quickly, already guessing what Saima might say next.
"You've already wasted enough of my time .... not another minute," Rozina teased, trying to sound stern. "Save your apologies. Today is the Players episode on Zain Farooq. If I miss that promo, I'll never forgive you."
"I also have to study," Washma added. "If you want, come with us."
"No, thanks. I have some work pending," Saima murmured, head bowed. "Still... 'sorry' isn't nearly enough for what you did for me." She couldn't meet Washma's eyes after everything.
"Oh, don't worry .... you've got a friend in me." Washma's forgiveness was quiet and whole; she never once mentioned the stolen assignment.
When they left, Saima slipped into the shadows beneath a tree. Before she could react, something strong closed around her throat. Tamana's hand was hot and merciless.
"How dare you toy with me? What did you tell her about us?" Tamana hissed.
"Everything," Saima gasped, struggling. "How you enchant girls, then toss them aside when someone new appears."
"I can kill you ... you know that," Tamana snarled. "I'll never let you succeed. Stop these pathetic attempts to get my attention." She shoved Saima. Saima crumpled to the ground, gasping.
"Tamana.....leave her," Saima pleaded, voice breaking. "You will never trap her. She is not that kind of girl."
"You weren't like that either," Tamana spat. "She will fall, just as you did. You'll watch it happen." Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"But cross me, and I'll make sure your parents get you back in one piece." Like a wounded tigress, she turned and walked away.
Saima lay there, trembling at the memory of the threat.
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ZAIN
Without paying any attention to Mr. Adam's assistant's request that he was in an important meeting, Zain pushed the door open and walked straight into Adam's office. Adam was already busy, surrounded by a group of people.
They all turned, stunned at the audacity of his entrance.
"Oh, Zain! I'm glad you're here. Meet the brand team... you're the brand ambassador of...." Adam began, introducing him to the people he had brought in to capitalize on Zain's fame.
Zain's blood boiled at the man's audacity. How conveniently he had announced everything without even taking his consent.
"Mr. Adam, before making any commitments on my behalf, I think we need to talk." Zain gritted his teeth, barely able to contain his fury.
"Of course, Zain. I'm sorry, everyone....could you please excuse us? I hope you understand. Zain is not the type of person I can keep waiting until I finish this meeting." Adam's tone was overly polite as he dismissed the group. One by one, they filed out, leaving Zain and Adam alone.
Once the last person had left, Zain turned sharply towards Adam.
"Mr. Adam, may I ask who gave you the authority to accept such proposals on my behalf?" His voice was calm, but the tension in it was unmistakable.
"Zain, Zain, Zain... you're overreacting," Adam said, putting on an innocent face. "It was all in the contract. The LTA can make decisions for you..
accepting or rejecting opportunities. If you want, I can show you again."
"That clause was regarding Wimbledon matches, not about me becoming a brand ambassador. I'm a sportsman, not a model." Zain's tone grew harsher; this man was testing his patience.
"Zain, nowadays even athletes do these ventures to promote their careers. It will be good for you too," Adam retorted in a calculated manner.
"Sorry, Mr. Adam. I won't do it. Choose someone else. I'm not the only player in the LTA." Zain concluded firmly. He wasn't ready to hear more of Adam's nonsense.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Adam said, a wicked smirk curling on his lips. "If you want to remain in Wimbledon, you'll have to leave for Canada, model for the brand I signed with, and travel to their fashion houses worldwide."
Zain froze, dumbstruck. "What do you mean by this?"
"I mean, for the entire upcoming year, you won't be able to play Wimbledon. And even after that, not until I allow you to."
This was madness. Was Adam setting a trap for him?
"Mr. Adam, is this some kind of joke.....or worse, a personal vendetta? You do realize you're toying with my career, don't you?" Zain said, his voice tight as he fought to keep his composure..
"Not personal. Professional," Adam replied coldly.
"I'm boosting my son's career. He's been struggling to find a place in Wimbledon, but you....always in the spotlight....never let anyone rise above you. I'm simply giving my son the space to move forward. As for you, you'll remain in the LTA as long as I say. I did my homework, Zain. I know you only stayed loyal to the LTA because your late father chose it for you."
Adam's words revealed the depth of his filthy intentions.
"So that three-year contract was just a bait," Zain realized, connecting the dots. He hadn't paid attention to the hidden clauses before.
"Gotcha, Zain! I've got three years of your career in my fist!" Adam laughed devilishly.
But soon, Zain's laughter joined in, startling Adam. He stared at Zain as if he had lost his mind. After a few moments of chuckling, Zain straightened.
"You really think that son of yours....what's his name again? Ah, yes... Henry Macros. Do you honestly believe he has the talent, the guts, to take my place?" Zain asked, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Mr. Adam Macros, I am the lion of this den. A jackal like Henry can never replace me. No matter how loudly he barks, he can never stand against my roar." His tone solidified into steel.
"That's overconfidence, Zain. Don't underestimate Henry," Adam snapped, his sugar-coated manner finally cracking.
"No, Adam... you're overestimating him. Anyone can hold a racket, but not everyone can be a Wimbledon player. Wimbledon runs in my veins like blood itself. Try all you want, but you'll never be able to detach me from it."
Zain pushed back his chair and rose, leaning both hands firmly on the table between them.
"Fine then. Let's make a deal. For one year, I won't stand in Henry's way. If he wins even a single federation match, I'll resign from the world of Wimbledon. But if he doesn't, you will publicly admit that you used the LTA for your own motives and resign from your post."
"What nonsense is this? I'll never agree to such an absurd deal!" Adam refused.
"So you admit your son isn't capable of what you claim?" Zain smirked, testing his nerves.
Adam hesitated, then said coldly, "Fine. But for that one year, you'll accept every decision I approve for you."
"Done. I'll be your slave for one year....but I want it in writing and recorded proof."
"Done."
They both agreed to meet again, in front of their lawyers, to finalize the written agreement.
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