Chapter 164 : "I can play this game just as well as you."

Farah scoffed, "I don't come empty-handed. I always have a Plan B. If you won't help, then I'll have no choice but to make you see things my way." 

Ibrahim's face hardened. A threat? She dared to threaten him? Did this woman have any idea who she was dealing with? "Threaten me? Do you even know me, Farah?"

Farah met his gaze unflinchingly. "More than you think. I know more than enough.... And it's not just you. Your entire family."

As if sensing his unease, Farah's lips curled into a sinister smile, her eyes glinting with malice. She tilted her head slightly, "The secret about your father. The fact that you..." She paused for a dramatic effect, "The fact that he died by your hand, not a heart attack. And neither your brother nor your mother knows the truth, living in their perfect world."

A muscle in Ibrahim's jaw clenched tight. "So you know," he finally spoke. 

For a moment, Farah felt a tremor of fear. Standing there under the accusatory glint of Ibrahim's eyes, the confidence she projected seemed to waver. 

"Yes," she forced out, "And what if I told Samir? How do you think your dear brother would react, knowing the man he idolized, his own flesh and blood, took Uncle Zafar's life?"

A cold fury burned in Ibrahim's eyes. "You think Samir would believe you over his own brother?"

"Time will tell," she said coolly.

Ibrahim reached for the car door, his knuckles white as he gripped the handle. But before he could fling it open and confront her head-on, Farah darted forward, her hand slamming against the door, preventing it from swinging open.

"Don't think your anger scares me, Mr. Ibrahim." She hissed, "You underestimate me. I can play this game just as well as you. I could be your worst nightmare. I could marry your precious brother, become part of this family, and then slowly, oh so slowly, tear you down from the inside out. Torture you with the truth, day by day. And the best part? It wouldn't even be difficult. Samir is already infatuated with me."

Ibrahim saw Farah with a murderous glance, "If that's your game, Farah. Then you've made a grave mistake. Because if you think I won't hesitate to throw you out of this world before you can even blink, you're sorely mistaken."

"Empty threats are your specialty, I guess." Farah countered. Though she knew pushing him further wouldn't benefit anyone. 

She quickly smoothed out her expression as she noticed Samir and Mahi approaching from the house. They must have finished their discussion about the doctor.

With a practiced smile, Farah took Mahi's hand, offering a warm, "Thank you so much, Samir. We really appreciate your help."

Samir, oblivious to the tension that had just crackled in the air, simply nodded. "No problem at all," he replied, happy to be of service.

With a final wave goodbye, the two women left the Rahman mansion. Walking away, arm in arm, Mahi broke the silence.

"Farah, you did so much for me today. I owe you an apology. The things I said to you before, those harsh words… I shouldn't have said them. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me."

Farah squeezed her friend's hand reassuringly. "It's already forgotten. I'm the kind of person who says 'it's okay' even when my heart is breaking into pieces. I'll be forever like this. Don't worry about that fight – our friendship is stronger than a single argument."

Relief washed over Mahi's face. "Thank you. Really thanks a lot. I should apologize earlier..... Well, I was hoping to see Ava at the mansion. She hasn't been attending university either. It's kind of weird that she didn't come to meet you."

Farah dismissed the topic with a light wave of her hand. "Ava isn't feeling well today," she explained quickly. "Probably just sleeping it off. Come on, how about we grab some smoothies. How does that sound?"

She steered the conversation away from Ava. One thing was clear in her mind - The war between her and Ibrahim had just begun. However, she had no idea that she would never have the opportunity to engage in that war.

Life doesn't always unfold as we hope....

Meanwhile, Inside the car, Ibrahim gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles seemed to meld with the cool leather. His veins on the back of his hands stood out like taut cords. Headlights sliced through the inky blackness of the night, illuminating the road ahead but doing little to dispel the tension that clouded his mind.

Beside him, Samir sensed the shift in his brother's mood, "Everything okay, Ibrahim? You look rough. Why don't you let me drive?" 

Ibrahim shook his head, his jaw set firm. "No, I'm fine," he muttered, his voice strained. He didn't need Samir worrying about him on top of everything else. "Just pass me that water bottle."

Samir reached into the cup holder and retrieved a water bottle, passing it to his brother. Ibrahim snatched it almost too quickly, his hand trembling slightly as he twisted off the cap. The encounter with Farah had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He took a long swig of water, trying to quench the thirst that wasn't entirely physical. 

 Now, even the simple task of driving seemed like a struggle. His focus kept flitting back to her words. 

And there was the unsettling truth in her statement – Samir's unwavering loyalty. If his brother proposed to Farah, and Farah accepted, things would become considerably more complicated. But he really wanted Samir's happiness and he wouldn't stand in his brother's way if that's what Samir truly wanted. He could handle Farah's veiled torture. But the thought of his carefully guarded secret – the truth about his father's death – being exposed to Samir and their mother, Aliya, filled him with a dread that went beyond fear.

Oh no. Another problem. If Farah knew his secret about his father, then that meant... Ava knew too. A defeated sigh escaped his lips. That damn Usama, blabbing everything to Ava. The consequences of his past actions seemed to be multiplying faster than he could handle.

"How's Usama?" he asked through gritted teeth. 

Samir, scrolling through his phone, glanced up briefly. "Both Rafi and Usama have burns," he replied. "They're in the hospital getting patched up."

Ibrahim slammed his fist on the steering wheel, "Damn Usama Syed!" The news of Usama's injuries did little to appease him. In his mind, Usama deserved far worse than a few burns, "That meddling fool! He should've been caught in the blast, not just singed." 

Seeing his brother like this, Samir raised an eyebrow, "Whoa, hold on a minute, brother. I thought we just wanted to scare them a bit, not send them to the morgue. You never said anything about eliminating them."

"If I could," he muttered, "I'd get rid of them both for good."

The car skidded to a halt in front of their warehouse. Emerging from the vehicle, Ibrahim and Samir entered the building. The warehouse itself was a simple, no-frills structure. Concrete walls rose high, supporting a corrugated metal roof. Stacks of crates and boxes filled most of the space, leaving a narrow pathway for navigating.

In the far corner, a sitting area had been created with a couple of sofas and a chipped coffee table. There, bathed in the pool of light from a single lamp, sat Faisal and another man.

The newcomer, a villager by the look of him, appeared to be in his late fifties. His face was weathered and lined. 

Ibrahim and Samir took a seat on the sofas opposite them. 

 "This gentleman claims to have seen something on the night of December fifth," Faisal began, "He believes he spotted a young woman and a man together. I'm thinking it might be Ava, but we need to hear him out."

Ibrahim leaned forward. Now he was calm as a ice, "Thank you for coming forward, Mr. What's your name, sir?"

"Safwan Najmi." The villager replied. His hands, worn from years of labor, rested on his knees. His simple clothing – a faded blue kurta and loose trousers – spoke of a life spent close to the earth.

Ibrahim asked, "Thank you, Mr. Najmi. We appreciate the information you may have. You mentioned seeing a young woman on the night of December fifth. Can you tell us more about that? What exactly did you see?"

Mr. Najmi cleared his throat, "Well sir, it was a quiet night, the kind that sticks in your memory because nothing much happens around here. But on that particular night, something caught my eye." He paused for a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"I live near the coast, you see, a simple farmer with a small plot of land. It was around midnight, maybe a little after. I was up late, finishing some chores outside my hut, when I saw a boat come ashore on the beach. Not the usual fishing boats, mind you, this one was smaller, different." He gestured vaguely with his hand. "I watched as two figures emerged from the boat and made their way onto the sand. Not many strangers come to our quiet village. They looked lost, confused, like they didn't know where they were. The woman especially, her eyes wide with worry. I approached them and asked if they needed help, lost maybe? The young woman, she didn't speak much, but the man asked for directions."

Ibrahim listened intently, "Can you describe the woman, Mr. Najmi? Anything you remember about her appearance?"

"The woman was bundled up in a thick jacket, and she wore a scarf covering most of her face. But the one thing I remember clearly – her eyes. They were a bright blue even in the moonlight."

Ibrahim's brow furrowed. Blue eyes? Ava's eyes were a dark, almost black in certain lighting. This detail didn't sit right with him. "Blue eyes?" he repeated.

"Maybe Ava was wearing contact lenses, Ibrahim," Samir suggested.