Chapter 2: The Contract Offer
Aslam stood frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs. "What... what did you just say?" he stammered, his voice cracking in shock.
Heer didn't blink. She looked him straight in the eye, her expression calm. "I said, will you marry me?"
A deep heat rushed to Aslam's face. He looked away, blushing furiously. "Do you... do you actually like me?"
"Nope," she replied instantly.
Aslam's blush vanished, replaced by a flash of irritation. "Then why on earth do you want to marry me?" he snapped, crossing his arms.
Heer leaned in slightly. "What if I told you... I will pay you for it?"
Aslam let out a dry, sarcastic laugh. "What? Do I look like that type of guy to you?" He gestured to himself with a humorous smirk, trying to hide how insulted he actually felt.
"No, no, no! That's not what I mean!" Heer waved her hands frantically, her cool exterior cracking for a second. "Think of it like a contract. It's just drama—a fake marriage. You marry me for the cameras, and I pay you for your time."
Aslam's smile faded. "Why would you do something like that?"
"I need to show my dad that I'm already settled," Heer sighed, her gaze drifting toward the window. "He once told me that if a person wants to be truly successful, they need a partner by their side. I think you would be perfect for this role. You're the perfect partner for this drama."
Aslam took a breath, trying to be professional. "Look, Miss Heer—"
"You can call me Sweetie," she interrupted with a playful, mischievous glint in her eye.
Aslam jumped back as if he'd been burned. "What?! No! No, no... look, I really respect you, but I can't do this." He looked down at his hands, his voice turning serious. "I can't marry you... because I already like someone else."
Heer stood there, her mouth slightly open in genuine shock. "What?" she managed to whisper.
Aslam took a deep breath, his voice firming up. "Once again, yes—I like someone. And she likes me too. We are going to marry each other." He stepped back, looking at her with a mix of pity and confusion. "Listen, Miss Heer, I don't know what your problem is or why you'd want to marry a guy like me—someone you've only known for a week—but I can't help you. I hope you'll understand. Now, I have to go."
As he turned to leave, he looked back one last time. "And don't worry. I'm a man of my word. I will not tell a single soul about this conversation."
[Next Scene: The "Gossip" Bar]
"So then she says, 'Will you marry me?' and I'm like, 'Nope!'" Aslam shouted over the loud music of the bar, slamming his glass down on the table.
His best friend, Parwaiz, stared at him with wide eyes, a piece of a snack halfway to his mouth. He looked at Aslam, then at the half-empty bottle on the table.
"My boy..." Parwaiz said in a heavy, sarcastic tone, wiping his hands. "The same boy who told that poor girl he wouldn't share a single word with anyone? Here you are, barely ten minutes later, vomiting the entire conversation all over me. I am so proud of you. Truly, your loyalty is legendary."
Aslam grinned sheepishly, leaning back in his chair. "Hey, you're my best friend, right? You're my bro! Bros don't count as 'anybody else.'"
Parwaiz leaned in, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Okay, 'bro.' If we're so close, then tell me... who is this girl you supposedly like so much? The one you're going to marry?"
Aslam's grin turned into a mysterious, drunken smirk. "Why should I tell you?"
"Because I'm your bro!" Parwaiz poked him in the shoulder. "Now tell me. Who is she?"
"No," Aslam giggled.
"Yes."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Noooooo!"
[Next Scene: Aslam's Bedroom – 2:00 AM]
Aslam was sprawled across his bed, one shoe still on, snoring loudly. Suddenly, he mumbled into his pillow, "No... I said... no..." He swatted at an imaginary Parwaiz in his sleep. "He's... she's... no... I said... I won't tell..."
He kicked his leg, nearly falling off the mattress, still arguing with his best friend in his dreams.
[Next Scene: Heer's Penthouse]
While Aslam was dreaming of refusing to tell his secrets, Heer was standing by her window, the city lights reflecting in her cold eyes. The "Sweetie" persona was gone. She picked up her phone and typed a quick, sharp message to a contact labeled simply 'The Fixer.'
"I need every bit of information on Aslam. Everything. His family, his bank account, and especially... the girl he thinks he likes."
She hit send and watched the message status change to 'Delivered.'