#mafia #secondchance #mafiaromance
Some figures lurked outside Karim's house in the shadow of the veil.

"Boss, they're all inside. Should we launch the attack?"

"No, lock the doors from outside. Set the house on fire." The command came through the other end of the phone.

The man nodded and retrieved a petrol bottle from his car.

---

"Jahra, where is Arham? Why hasn't Karim bhai brought Arham back yet?"

Sahira spoke with worry. Her eyes were fixed on the door. She had already prayed Maghrib but Arham hadn't returned yet. Arsalan had come in the morning. That's why Sahira hadn't left her room. When she went out, she saw everyone was present except Arham. Anxiety settled in Sahira's heart. She informed Jahra, who then informed Karim. Later, it was found out that Arham was hiding in Arsalan's car. There was no need to worry; he was safe with Arsalan.

Sahira was angry with Arham. She was going to scold him severely when he returned. But now she was starting to feel anxious. Arham hadn't returned yet.

"Karim's call came. Arham's perfectly fine. He'll be here in a while. Don't worry so much." Jahra reassured her. They both were busy folding clothes for all the children.

"By the way, tell me something. Since you've come here, this house has come alive. Before, it was just me, Karim, and Ibrahim. And the house was so quiet. But now there's noise and commotion all the time. Your sons don't take after you. Ammu used to say you were very quiet, like my Ibrahim. They're a real handful."

She chuckled and paused her work for a moment.

"Your sons haven't taken after you."

Sahira was startled, hearing Johar's words. She didn't want her sons to be like their father. Or, to become a criminal like their father.  Arsalan was their father, but it was only their misfortune.

When Jahra saw Sahira lost in deep thought, she gently shook her hand and asked,

"What are you lost in thought about?"

Her thoughts halted at the movement of his hand, and Sahira looked at him in shock.

"Oh, nothing."

Jahra, her voice laced with curiosity, broke the silence. "Sahira," she began, "I still can't believe you raised four children all by yourself. I remember the struggle I had with just one! The labor pains, the sleepless nights, the constant worry – it was overwhelming."

A wistful smile graced Sahira's lips as she recalled the challenges of her past. "I don't know how I managed either," she admitted. "Allah has always been merciful to me. Sometimes, I wonder how I pulled it off, all alone."

Jahra's eyes filled with admiration. "You're incredibly strong, Sahira," she declared. "Raising four children single-handedly for so many years..."

Sahira shook her head, her expression somber. "It wasn't bravery," she corrected. "It was a necessity. I had no choice. As a mother, my love for my children made me helpless. I couldn't bear the thought of Arsalan finding out about them. I had already lost one child. I couldn't lose another." Her eyes hardened, a flicker of pain crossing her face. "The rest, I left to Allah."

Jahra's heart ached for her sister, the depth of Sahira's suffering evident in her words. "But what if Arham's brain surgery hadn't required that doctor?" she asked gently. "Would you have never returned?"

Sahira's voice turned pensive. "Perhaps not," she replied. "Arham had been complaining of headaches for a few days. I didn't pay much attention at first. But when the pain became unbearable, I took him to the doctor. That's when I discovered his brain tumor."

She closed her eyes, the memory of that harrowing moment still vivid in her mind. "It was a terrifying time," she confessed. "I used to work at a place where the owner, an old lady was very fond of me and my children. I talked to her since I knew only she could help me. When I went to her and told everything, she immediately agreed to help pay for Arham's treatment. After some days, I brought Arham to New York. The day Arham's surgery was scheduled, his surgeon was also flying in from California. Unfortunately, his flight was delayed. Arham's surgery couldn't be postponed. We needed a surgeon immediately. That's when someone suggested Arsalan's name. They also mentioned that he wouldn't be at the hospital that day because he had an engagement ceremony."

Sahira's voice trailed off, a wave of memories washing over her. The scenes from that day replayed in her mind, each one etched with pain and desperation.

----------

Sahira's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the doctor, her voice trembling with desperation. "What do you mean the surgeon can't make it? I've cleared all the payments. Why is my son's surgery being delayed?"

The doctor, a woman with a sympathetic face, tried to calm Sahira's rising anxiety. "Please, Ma'am, try to understand. The surgeon who was scheduled to perform your son's surgery was flying in from California today. Unfortunately, their flight has been delayed."

"But what now?" Sahira's voice rose in panic. "My son's surgery is supposed to happen soon, and you're telling me there's no surgeon available?"

"We're doing everything we can to find a replacement surgeon as soon as possible," the doctor assured her. "We have some of the best neurosurgeons in the world right here in our hospital, but they're all on personal leave today. Otherwise, they would have performed your son's surgery, and their success rate is very high."

"Are they in this city?" Sahira asked urgently. "Please, give me their names. I'll go talk to them myself."

The doctor thought for a moment before replying, "Arsalan Ansari. He's a very skilled surgeon. If you explain your situation to him, he might agree to operate on your son. The hospital staff is trying to contact him, but he's probably not taking calls today because of his engagement. It would be best if you went to him in person and explained the situation. I'll send one of our staff members with you."

But Sahira was no longer listening. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the name, Arsalan Ansari.

Vivid memories flashed before her eyes, a torrent of emotions threatening to engulf her. The doctor watched her with concern, puzzled by the woman's sudden silence. Sahira had presented herself as a single mother, her face hidden behind a large scarf. The doctor felt a pang of sympathy for her. Poor woman...

"Miss, are you alright?" the doctor inquired.

"Yes, I'm fine," Sahira replied, masking her inner turmoil. "Just give me his address. I'll go talk to him myself."

The doctor nodded.

Sahira's mind raced, questioning her decision to seek Arsalan's help. For years, she had meticulously concealed her children from him, protecting them from his shadow. And now, she was about to approach him again, this time to save her son's life. Was she making the right choice?

-------

Sahira stood before the imposing mansion, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been years since she had last set foot in this place, a place she had once called home. She took a deep breath, her legs trembling slightly, and approached the guard standing at the gate.

"I need to see Arsalan Ansari," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The guard eyed her suspiciously. She didn't look like a party guest. "Do you have an invitation card?" he asked gruffly.

"No," she replied.

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Ansari?"

Sahira closed her eyes, taking another deep breath to gather her courage. "No," she said again, her voice firmer this time. "Just tell him Sahira is here."

The guard hesitated for a moment, then nodded and disappeared into the house.

Sahira stood there, her heart pounding in her ears, waiting for what seemed like an eternity. The mansion loomed over her, a symbol of the past she had desperately tried to escape.

Inside the Mansion

Arsalan was getting ready for his engagement party in his room, Karim by his side. Karim was giving instructions to the guards stationed around the house, making sure everything was in order for the important guests who were expected to arrive.

The mansion was bustling with activity, staff scurrying about, making sure every detail was perfect for the upcoming event. Security was tight, with guards stationed at every entrance and patrolling the grounds.

"Mashallah, you look stunning," Karim exclaimed, admiring his friend's appearance.

Arsalan remained silent, meticulously fastening the cufflinks of his shirt.

"I'm so happy for you, man," Karim continued. "You're finally moving on with your life."

Arsalan still didn't respond. He sprayed a few spritzes of perfume and turned to face his reflection in the mirror.

Perfection.

From his attire to his every gesture, everything about him exuded an air of sophistication and confidence. Tonight, he was to be engaged to Svetlana. Next month, they would be married.

He was detached from all emotions, a condition known as Alexithymia. He couldn't understand his own feelings or those of others. In his entire life, he had only experienced one true emotion – the intense love he felt for Sahira Hamid.

She was the only person who had ever stirred any emotion within him, an emotion he couldn't quite define. He loved thinking about her. He felt her presence around him constantly. He longed to see her, to hear her voice. All he knew was that he wanted her, only her. And he had possessed her.

But then, she had died. And with Sahira Hamid's death, Arsalan Ansari had lost his one and only connection to emotion. He felt nothing anymore.

Karim felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. He knew Arsalan was emotionally numb. But when Sahira was around, there was a spark in his eyes.

Now, there was only a cold, steely glint in his gaze.

A guard knocked on the door and entered the room.

"Sir, there's a call from the hospital. A child needs emergency surgery," he reported.

"Arrange for another surgeon," Karim replied. "Arsalan can't perform any more surgeries today."

Just then, another guard entered the room.

"Sir, there's a woman outside who wants to see you," he said.

"Who is she?" Karim asked again. "Whoever it is, Arsalan is unavailable right now."

Karim started to leave the room with the guard, but then the guard stopped him.

"She says her name is Sahira," he added.

Arsalan, who was finishing up his preparations for the party, froze.

"Sahira?" Karim whispered, but by then, he had already left the room with the guard.

Outside the Mansion

Sahira waited anxiously by the gate, her heart pounding in her chest. She had seen Karim enter the house with the guard. Her face was covered with a large scarf, but Karim had still recognized her. For a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes. The woman he had thought dead for the past four years was standing right in front of him, alive and well.

"Karim bhai, I need Arsalan's help," she pleaded. "My son...he needs surgery. There are no other surgeons available. Please ask Arsalan to save my son's life."

Sahira was consumed with worry for Arham. She had forgotten everything else. All she could think about was her son, who needed surgery immediately. If he didn't get it, she didn't know what would happen.

But for Karim, this was a shocking revelation. He was speechless for a moment, unsure of what to do. The guard stood by, watching them both.

"Sahira, you're alive..." Karim finally managed to say. "Then where have you been for all these years? And this child..."

"Karim bhai, I'll explain everything to you later. But right now, please call Arsalan. Otherwise, my son will die," Sahira begged desperately.

Arsalan didn't need anyone to call him. He had heard everything from the doorway. He saw a woman crying in front of Karim. Her head and face covered with a scarf. But, her eyes... he knew those eyes quite well. Those beautiful black eyes who always drawn him towards them.

His heart skipped a beat. A feeling he hadn't felt in years stirred within him. He took a step towards the woman, his feet moving on their own.

"What's going on here?" he asked in his deep, commanding voice, addressing everyone in the room. 

The sound of Arsalan's voice made Karim step back from Sahira.

Arsalan Ansari's gaze fell upon the woman whose face was hidden behind a large scarf.

But his heart was pounding in his chest. His heartbeat had taken on a different rhythm.

"Karim, go inside and handle everything," Arsalan instructed, and Karim left with the guard.

Now, it was just Arsalan Ansari and Sahira Hamid. And Sahira Hamid's breath caught in her throat.

Arsalan stepped forward and gently lifted the scarf from her face.

The same feeling surged through his heart once again. The intensity in his eyes faded instantly. They sparkled, and Sahira Hamid seemed to forget how to breathe.

-----------

Her trance broke, and she was pulled back from the realm of memories to reality.

"I am here. I was forced to return to save my son's life. And I had to come back to this man."

"Sahira, I don't know what happened between you and Arsalan bhai. But he's not as bad a person as you think he is. Even after you left, he took great care of Mom and all of us. Sumaiya and Maheen are both studying medicine now. Tayyiba is also in a very good school. Mom can walk again. Arsalan bhai had her treated."

Jahra tried to reason with her sister.

Sahira smiled bitterly, but said nothing.

Just then, Ibrahim ran into the room, crying.

"What's wrong, Ibrahim? Why are you crying?" Jahra asked with concern, seeing her son's tears.

"Arhal hit me," Ibrahim sobbed.

Sahira's forehead furrowed. She knew her youngest son was more prone to physical outbursts than words. He was the youngest of the four brothers, the most mischievous, and the most stubborn.

"You need to apologize to Ibrahim bhai. Otherwise, Mommy will punish you," Arhab, the slightly more sensible of the four brothers, tried to reason with his younger brother, who was two minutes younger.

"You hit brother. Mommy will be angry now. You'll get a timeout."

Arhan also joined in, trying to reason with his brother, who was one minute younger. They were all three years old, about to turn four.

Arhal continued to play with the car, oblivious to their words. He acted as if he couldn't hear anything.

Sahira stood before him.

"Arhal..."

Arhal understood that Mommy was about to scold him. He tried to run away with the car, but Sahira, who knew her son very well, caught him.

Arhal giggled.

"Arhal, did you hit Ibrahim bhai?" Sahira asked sternly.

At first, Arhal shook his head in denial, but when Sahira glared at him, he nodded reluctantly.

"Why did you hit him?"

"He wasn't giving me his car?"

"So, you hit him?"

"Yes." The answer was innocent.

"Is it right to snatch other people's things and then hit them?"

"I asked him to give it to me first. But he didn't listen. So, I took it."

Arhab and Arhan were playing quietly, occasionally glancing at their younger brother getting scolded.

"You did wrong," Sahira tried to explain.

"No." Arhal remained stubborn.

Sahira took a deep breath and then took him to another room. Arhab and Arhan watched them go silently. Arhal started to cry.

Sahira sat him on a chair in the other room.

"Don't move from here for 5 minutes. This is your punishment. Think about what you did wrong."

But Arhal kept crying loudly. Sahira left the room. Jahra came to her with Ibrahim. Ibrahim was no longer crying.

"Aren't you overdoing it?"

"No, discipline is necessary," Sahira replied.

Ibrahim looked into the room and saw Arhal sitting there sulking. Ibrahim felt sorry for his younger brother. He didn't want his aunt to punish him.

"Aunt, please forgive him. He asked me for the car. But I didn't give it to him," Ibrahim told Sahira.

Sahira stroked his hair.

"No, son, Arhal needs to understand his mistake. Don't worry. I'll bring him back in 5 minutes."

Jahra took Ibrahim to the playroom. And Sahira stood outside the room, watching her stubborn son. He was still hiccupping.

After just two minutes, Sahira went back to him.

"Then she asked him lovingly. Do you realize your mistake?"

"Yes."

"Will you apologize to Ibrahim bhai?"

"Yes."

Sahira wiped his tears. Then she kissed him on both eyes and hugged him tightly.

Then Sahira tickled him and he forgot to cry and started laughing.

Sahira took him out of the room. Arhal apologized to Ibrahim and returned his car. But Ibrahim gave him the car to play with. Then the four children started playing hide and seek.

Sahira went to her room to rest for a while, but her heart started to pound. Then the door burst open.

Jahra came in running, breathless.

"Sahira, we have to get out of here right now. Karim called. We're in grave danger."

"The children?" Sahira asked worriedly.

"Karim has sent guards. I have already sent the children out with the guards. Now I'm here to pick you up."

Jahra grabbed Sahira's hand and they headed towards the gate.

But what was this? Someone had locked the gate from the outside. Then they went to the back door of the house, but it was also locked from the outside. Both of their hearts were pounding. Just then, they heard the sound of the garden gate being broken down and they both stood still in their place.

Then a man entered.

He lowered his gaze and said respectfully, "Please don't panic, ladies. Karim sir has sent me. For both of you."

He gave them two large shawls and asked them to cover themselves completely with the shawls. Then they both followed the guard out. They saw the house burning in the distance.

Both of their hearts started to beat with fear.

Sahira saw a car parked outside. And outside the car, the three children were crying in fear.

Three children?

There were four children?

Her heart sank.

Arhal... her youngest son. He wasn't there.

"Where is Arhal?" She screamed.

"Madam, we only found three children. We thought there were only three children."

"My Arhal." Sahira started running towards the house, but Jahra grabbed her. The whole house was burning. Jahra started to cry.

"Leave me, Arhal. My son. He's in there." Sahira screamed, " Leaveee meeeeeeeee" Her piercing screech echoed across the streets.

The children were also crying in fear. Two guards ran towards the house. But the house was completely engulfed in flames.



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