❤︎The Lawyer ❤︎

ZAYN

I barely slept all night. Thinking he was there with her . . . on the same bed as her . . . it was freaking driving me insane. What if that bastard laid his hands on her? Was he going to hurt her again?

These questions forced me to drive over to Anas's house in the middle of the night. I found his father in his usual spot, a bottle of some fancy red wine open in front of him. I grimaced. The smell of alcohol—or any intoxicants, really—brought back bad memories.

It was because of this that my Dad turned out to be the way he was. After he'd started drinking, he'd beaten my mom. He had tried his fists on me too—to 'make me stronger'. But he soon realised that they didn't have an effect on me. I just blurred everything out as soon as he raised his hand against me. So, he stopped.

I didn't want to think about that right now.

"Can you put this away?" I pointed to the half-empty bottle and he gestured to his servant for it to be taken away.

"Thanks," I said, taking a seat opposite to him.

"Anas is upstairs in his room,"

I had a pretty good idea of what he must be doing so I kept those images out of my head.

"I know," I said, "I was here to talk to you actually."

He took a gulp of water, shaking his head. To keep himself concentrated, no doubt. God. I could smell the alcohol till here.

"About that girl?" he asked. "What was her name . . . Lana, Lehhhh . . ."

"Leia," I supplied, wincing. Why did people drink if it drove them insane? All sorts of crimes were committed under the influence of intoxicants anyway.

"Yes. I prepared her case. We'll present it before the court tomorrow."

"No," I hollered. He started, seeming to come back to his senses by the tone of my voice. "This must be kept private. Just get her divorced."

"It doesn't work like—"

"Don't try to fool me, uncle," I said, almost rolling my eyes. "Anything and everything happens here. I need you to keep this private, okay? You should work on preparing her divorce papers. We'll stop by your office early in the morning."

He rubbed his temples. "We need witnesses. Her parents . . . or someone related to her."

"Isn't her forced marriage enough of a factor?" My anger reflected in my voice. I didn't have time for this shit.

"Look," he leaned forward, eyes closing momentarily. Clearly this wasn't the best time to be here. "If she can bear witness that it was forced and give me a proof, there would be no need for her parents."

Proof?

"She has scars. And . . . and the doctor said there were signs of . . ." I clenched my fists into tight balls. "Of rape."

It seemed like everything was going over his head so I took off after a good bye.

I drove over to her house like the crazed person that I was. I debated going inside and seeing whether she listened to me or not. Whether she slept with him or not. But after two hours of creeping outside, I returned home.

I promised myself she wouldn't spend another night with him.

She'd asked what would happen after her divorce and honestly I had no idea. Part of me knew though. I knew what I wanted.

But did she want me?