The house was on fire.

Not the real kind—

But the kind that burns your soul.

Zoya sat on the cold floor, her cheek burning from the slap. Her mother stood above her, eyes filled with fury, hands trembling not from fear—but shame. Her father paced the room like a lion ready to pounce, his voice rising with every sentence.

“I didn’t raise a daughter like this!”

“What did we do to deserve this disgrace?!”

“You ran away with a boy—a boy, Zoya!”

“I didn’t run away for a boy!” she shouted, voice cracking. “I ran away to breathe!”

Another slap landed. She gasped.

Her mother’s voice broke. “You’ve ruined our name.”

Zoya’s lips bled from the inside where she bit down to stop herself from screaming. Her heart was racing, not just from pain—but fear.

Her eldest brother entered then, grabbing her arm so roughly it made her wince. “You won’t even see the sun now. You’ll be locked. No more talking. No phone. No outside. Nothing.”

He began dragging her out.

“LET GO!” she screamed, kicking and fighting.

That’s when the door opened.

And he walked in.

Akif.

No, not just him—Ayaan and Aarfa too. But Zoya didn’t see anyone else. Only him.

Akif’s eyes darkened the moment he saw her—bruised, broken, her arm held like a prisoner.

Her brother’s grip froze.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled.

Akif didn’t flinch.

He stepped forward, every inch of him pulsing with restrained rage. “Let. Her. Go.”

“This is our family matter.”

Akif’s voice lowered to something cold. Dangerous. “And she’s my everything.”

The silence that followed was thick.

Zoya’s brother scoffed. “So you’re the one who ruined her? Who trapped her in your cheap charm?”

Akif’s jaw clenched, but his voice was steady. “I didn’t ruin her. I saved her. You should be ashamed of what she ran from.”

Her father stepped forward. “Don’t act noble, boy. You’re just another lust-driven idiot who made promises—”

“I love her.” Akif’s voice shook. “I respect her. And I would never touch her without her consent. I’ve protected her from the beginning… even from people who call themselves her family.”

Zoya’s mother raised an eyebrow. “Love?” she spat. “Do you even know what love is?”

“I do,” he said. “It’s staying up at night wondering if she’s eating. It’s building a future with her in every thought. It’s not giving up even when the world says you should.”

No one spoke.

Akif moved closer and gently took Zoya’s hand from her brother’s grip.

Surprisingly, this time, her brother let go.

Zoya looked up at Akif—his face flushed, eyes red, hands trembling slightly from holding in too much.

“I came because she means everything to me,” he whispered. “I don’t want to tear her away from her family. I want her family to know… I’ll treat her like a queen.”

Her father stared at him for a long second.

Zoya’s mother looked away, arms crossed, lips tight.

No one said yes.

No one said no.

But no one tried to stop them when Akif slowly wrapped his arm around Zoya and pulled her close.

Aarfa ran to her and hugged her so tight Zoya could barely breathe.

Ayaan stayed back, his protective stance clear.

As they stepped out of the house, Zoya looked back.

Her mother’s eyes were still angry, but… her father’s weren’t. Her father just looked tired.

Like maybe… maybe a storm had passed, but the rebuilding hadn’t yet begun.

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