116.

The moonlight spilled into the lavish, softly lit living room of Alana’s family mansion, casting pale shadows on the marble floor. Faraz stood near the grand fireplace, his tall, commanding figure framed by the glow of the flames. His onyx eyes, dark and intense, followed Alana as she shifted nervously, her delicate fingers fidgeting with the hem of her soft cashmere sweater.

Alana swallowed, feeling the heat of his gaze on her. Her heart pounded, a mix of fear and something else she couldn’t quite name. He was intimidating, with an aura of power that made the air between them thick and heavy. She took a hesitant step back, but Faraz noticed, his lips curving into a knowing, almost teasing smile.

“Are you afraid of me, Alana?” he asked, his voice a low, velvet drawl that sent shivers down her spine. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

Alana’s breath caught, her eyes widening. “N-no,” she managed to whisper, though her trembling hands betrayed her. “I’m not... afraid.” Her voice wavered, and Faraz’s smirk deepened, as if he were enjoying the game.

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek. The touch was featherlight, but it made her skin burn. “Liar,” he murmured, his thumb tracing her jawline. “I can feel your pulse racing.”

Alana flinched at his touch, her eyes darting up to meet his. His dark gaze drank in her features, lingering on the way her lips parted in surprise. Her knees felt weak, but she held her ground, trying to summon her courage.

“What do you want from me, Faraz?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. The question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation.

Faraz tilted his head, his expression softening slightly, but his eyes remained dangerously intense. “I want you to understand,” he said, his hand sliding down to capture hers. He brought her trembling palm to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against her skin. “I’m not here to hurt you, Alana. I’m here to protect you. To make sure you’re safe. Even if that means playing the role of the villain.”

Alana’s heart thudded in her chest, her skin tingling where his lips had touched. “You... you confuse me,” she admitted, her voice shaky. “One moment, you’re terrifying, and the next, you’re...”

“Charming?” he finished for her, a hint of amusement in his voice. He stepped even closer, leaving barely any space between them. “Or maybe, you just can’t decide if I’m your enemy or something else entirely.”

Alana’s cheeks flushed, and she felt trapped, but in a way that made her pulse quicken. His presence was overwhelming, and yet, she couldn’t look away. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Why me, Faraz? Why are you doing this?”

Faraz’s smile faded, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. “Because,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, “you’re the palm of my game, the key to something much bigger than either of us. But that doesn’t mean I don’t see you, Alana. It doesn’t mean I don’t feel this...” His free hand hovered just above her waist, the unspoken tension between them crackling like a spark.

Alana’s breath hitched, her body frozen between fight and surrender. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run away or step closer. But as Faraz’s eyes locked onto hers, she knew one thing: she was already caught in his web, and there was no easy way out.

Alana’s knees felt like they could give out at any moment. The way Faraz looked at her, his dark eyes holding a dangerous mix of desire and control, made it impossible to breathe normally. She tried to step back, but her heel hit the edge of the ornate rug beneath her, halting her escape.

Faraz’s hand moved to her waist, steadying her as she stumbled. His touch was firm, but his fingers grazed her as if testing her reaction. He leaned in, his lips so close to her ear that his warm breath sent another shiver down her spine. “Tell me,” he whispered, his voice a mix of authority and seduction. “Are you still afraid?”

Alana closed her eyes, willing herself to regain some semblance of composure. The answer danced on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it. The way he held her, the way he seemed to enjoy the turmoil he caused within her—it made her feel vulnerable, exposed, and... drawn to him.

“I-I’m not afraid of you,” she lied, her voice cracking as she spoke. Her hands were still trembling, resting uselessly at her sides. “I’m just...”

“Conflicted?” Faraz finished for her, his lips curving into a slow, devilish grin. He pulled back just enough to study her face, his gaze drinking in every flicker of emotion that crossed her features. “Good. Maybe I like you better when you don’t know what to think.”

Alana opened her eyes, glaring up at him with what she hoped was defiance. “You’re enjoying this,” she accused, though her voice lacked the conviction she’d hoped for. “You like seeing me off-balance.”

Faraz’s thumb brushed her lower lip, and she felt her breath catch once more. “Perhaps,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Or maybe I’m just intrigued by the way you look at me, Alana. Like you’re not sure whether to push me away or pull me closer.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and a warmth spread through her, battling the fear that still lingered. She couldn’t deny the pull he had on her, the way he seemed to draw her in despite every warning in her mind screaming that he was dangerous.

“Why me?” she asked again, her voice coming out as a desperate whisper. “Out of all the women you could have, why are you so focused on me?”

Faraz’s expression shifted, something unreadable flashing in his dark eyes. He dropped his hand from her waist but didn’t step back, keeping her trapped in his presence. “Because you’re more than just a pawn in my game,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that sent her heart racing. “You’re... different. And I can’t ignore that, no matter how much I try.”

Alana’s throat tightened, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek, a release of all the tension and confusion she’d been holding in. Faraz’s hand moved, his fingers catching the tear before it could fall further. His touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions he always seemed to bring out in her.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured, his voice losing some of its teasing edge. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Alana stared up at him, her vision blurred by unshed tears. “Then stop playing with me,” she pleaded, her voice raw. “If you mean what you say, then prove it. Show me I’m not just a game to you.”

For the first time, Faraz looked uncertain, his jaw tightening as he considered her words. But before he could respond, the sound of someone entering the room shattered the moment. They both turned to see Ibrahim standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him.

“Faraz,” Ibrahim said, his voice a cold command. “A word. Now.”

Faraz’s hand slipped away from Alana, but he gave her one last lingering look, a silent promise or maybe a warning. “Stay here,” he told her, his voice low. “I’ll be back.”

Alana watched as he strode away, her heart still pounding, and wondered if she would ever truly understand the man who had turned her world upside down.