Plot Twist
Memoir | The Mysterious Government Official | Part IV of VI
The incident of the sack detonating on me in the mailroom quickly made waves across the U.S. Department of Prominence, taking center stage on CNN and various local news outlets in the Washington, D.C. region.
By Mia Z. Edwardsabout a year ago in Chapters
Memoir | Caught in a Sack Explosion | Part IV of VI. Content Warning.
When I was demoted and reassigned to the mailroom at the U.S. Department of Prominence for standing up to my tyrant boss, I found myself grateful to still have a job, acknowledged the significance of setting aside my pride about holding a high-status position, and appreciated the worth of all roles in the workplace.
By Mia Z. Edwardsabout a year ago in Chapters
Jama Taqseem Ep 3 & 4
Episodes three and four of Jama Taqseem perfectly portrayed what occurs when the wedding lights go off and reality creeps in. Until recently, the plot had been around Laila and Qais selecting each other and overcoming the first unpleasantness of rishtas and family dynamics. But with these episodes, the drama transitioned to marital life, and they were some of the most fun yet.
By Raviha Imranabout a year ago in Chapters
Knotted Roots - Part 4
While splashing cold water on my face, I could hear my father talking downstairs and then I heard boots thudding along each aged wooden plank of the stairs. Slow, methodical. I peered through the bathroom door as the figure passed by, it was Grace. I could smell her perfume like the zest of fresh grapefruit. My nose flaring as I took in the scent wafting in the air, I left my shirt ragged, unbuttoned, my pants snug around my hips. I made sure not to make a sound as I shadowed her in the hall. I was taking her in, the way her hips swayed in her daisy dukes. Her hair bouncing off her shoulders. As she pushed open my door seeing my empty bed, I figured what better way to get the drop in on her than now. With a quiet step I closed the distance, pressing my chest to her back and raking my hands down her arms until I interlocked with her fingers. My voice rugged, I whispered “Mornin’ darlin.” Her head leaned back as if granting me permission. Her eyes fluttered closed. I moved her hair to one side and trailed light kisses along her neck until she stepped forward. I gently released her as she spun to face me. “I don’t forgive you.” She rushed, a playful smirk on her lips. “Excuse me?” “You asked me to forgive you last night, well I don’t.” Hesitation ached in my chest, yet I couldn’t help but feel unapologetic. “Why’s that kitten? Is Greg going to be jealous?” I stated bluntly. Grace’s face stiffened when I mentioned Greg, as if a cruel reminder of the fool she was with, or at least that’s my opinion. “Greg is…” “He was a distraction.” I cut in. “Distraction?” I moved closer, my hand reaching to lift her chin, I yearn for the way her eyes are like a doe when I do that, the way she silently begs for it. “You don’t have to explain anything, kitten.” My head leaning towards her, my fingertips trailing along her jaw and down to her collarbone. Hooking the strap of her tank top. “Jasper…” “Tell me Grace, does he make you like this?” “Like what?” “Like this. You’re breathless, anxious in the best way possible.” Her face said it all, her eyes full of need and her body relaxing into my arms. In a moment of desire I kissed her with my soul, passionately. Her hands explored my upper body. “Let me treat you how you deserve.” “And what do I deserve?” Her curiosity pleading with insatiable thirst. I forced myself to let go, steadying her on her feet. I began to button my shirt as I searched for separation. I didn’t want to mark her as mine just yet, I want her to confess she feels as strongly about me as I do about her. Her body says yes, but she’s been giving her heart to another man. Someone who isn’t him. “Why do you do this to me Jasper?” “Do what?” I questioned, brows furrowed as I took in her pained and confused expression. “Tease.” I stopped midway, frozen as I took in her pained words. “You think I just want to tease you?” A dark, almost cruel tone slipped from my lips. “Forget it…” She whispered “Oh like how you forget who Greg is when you’re around me?” My words were like a slap to her perfectly rounded face. “Greg is a great man.” “Just not great in bed huh?” Her face was in utter shock as even I was surprised I spoke the words aloud. “This was a mistake.” Grace’s pained whisper shattered me, and I watched as she scurried off into her truck and drove away.
By Sibley Shamraabout a year ago in Chapters
📖 Chapter 5: Secrets of Silence
"Zaryab’s Secret" In the morning, the city’s atmosphere was unusually quiet. Newspapers still carried headlines about Anwar’s death. But Alia’s heart was facing a storm of its own. She hadn’t closed her eyes all night—the words of Ayan, the killer’s message, and seeing Zaryab’s name on the list… all kept circling in her mind. Chaos in the Office The next day, the Noorabad Gazette office was buzzing with activity. Reporters, columnists, and editors were rushing to piece their stories together. When Alia arrived, Zaryab was already there. “Are you okay?” Zaryab asked, concern visible in his eyes. Alia only nodded instead of answering. She was wondering whether or not she should tell him about the list. But then she decided—for now, silence was safer. The Mysterious Phone Call Around noon, Zaryab’s phone rang suddenly. He stepped out of the room to answer it. Alia couldn’t help but notice the change in his expressions—shock at first, then panic, and finally complete silence. When he returned, he looked unusually serious. “Who was it?” Alia asked. Zaryab lied lightly, “Just a source… nothing important.” But Alia felt he was hiding something. The Attack That evening, Zaryab left the office and got into his car. Out of curiosity, Alia decided to follow him from a distance. The road was deserted. Suddenly, a black car sped up and rammed into Zaryab’s vehicle. His car swerved off the road. Masked men jumped out, dragged Zaryab from the wreck, and pulled him away. Alia’s eyes widened in shock and fear. Instead of calling the police—or even Ayan—she made a reckless decision: to follow them herself. The Old Warehouse The masked men took Zaryab to an abandoned warehouse. Quietly, Alia followed and peeked through a crack in the wall. “Tell us everything, or we’ll bury you right here!” one of the masked men threatened. With a broken voice, Zaryab replied, “I haven’t hidden anything… what you want, I don’t have!” Alia’s heartbeat raced. Were these the same people who killed Anwar? And what secret was Zaryab holding? The Revelation Just then, the door burst open. Ayan entered, pistol in hand, his face red with fury. “Let him go!” his voice thundered. The masked men stepped back. Their leader smirked mockingly. “Ayan, you always show up at the wrong time. But remember—you're part of this game too.” Ayan pulled Zaryab up and dragged him out. Alia rushed after them. Together, the three escaped the warehouse and reached the car under the cover of darkness. On the way, Alia demanded, “What was that? What did they want from Zaryab?” Ayan turned to Zaryab. “You tell her. It’s no use hiding anymore.” After a moment of silence, Zaryab spoke: “I never told you, Alia… but I knew some of Anwar’s business secrets. He used me. I had access to his accounts and documents. I was the first to hear about his ‘hit list.’” Alia stared at him in disbelief. “So you were part of this game too?” Zaryab lowered his head. “Yes… but I tried to get out. Maybe that’s why they’re after me now.” The Danger Grows Ayan stopped the car and said gravely, “Now it’s clear. The enemy isn’t just one man—it’s an entire network. Anwar was only the face of it. With him gone, they’re coming for us one by one.” Alia took a deep breath. “So what do we do now?” Ayan replied firmly, “Now we hunt down their true leader.” End of Chapter 5 Far away, on the balcony of a tall building, the same mysterious figure stood watching through binoculars. A faint smile crossed his face as he whispered: “The game has only just begun…” He opened a f When the streets turn into a trap and masked shadows close in, Alia faces her first direct attack. Fear collides with courage, and for the first time, the enemy’s face begins to surface. But one thing is certain— This isn’t just about Anwar’s death anymore. The real hunt has begun. 🔥 “In the web of darkness, every move could be her last.”
By dabeer hashmiabout a year ago in Chapters
📖 Secrets of Silence
📖the city streets were drowned in the darkness of night. Alia and Zaryab’s car moved slowly toward the newspaper office. A strange silence lingered between them. Alia’s mind was still haunted by Anwar’s “Hit List.” The shock of seeing her own name written on it was eating her from the inside. The Conversation Breaking the silence, Zaryab finally spoke: “Alia, I think you’re getting too tangled in all this. This game is not meant for ordinary people.” Without turning her eyes away from the road, Alia replied: “If I step back now, this story will remain a mystery forever. And maybe more people will be killed.” Zaryab looked at her deeply but remained quiet. At the Newspaper Office As soon as they reached the office, Alia walked straight into the editor’s room. Without mentioning the secret file, she presented a draft of an article on Anwar’s death and the mysterious circumstances surrounding it. The editor, who was used to seeing the truth only half-awake, said: “Alia, this story is big. But remember, the bigger the secret, the greater the danger.” Alia smiled and replied: “Sir, danger is just another name for my profession.” The Night Attack It was midnight by the time Alia was driving back home. The city’s streets were silent and deserted. As her car approached her apartment, suddenly a motorcycle sped up behind her. The bright headlight hid the rider’s face in the rearview mirror. Alia pressed the accelerator, but the bike chased her relentlessly. In a flash, the rider pulled a shining metal object from his pocket. A gunshot echoed through the night. The car windows shattered into pieces. Alia screamed, ducked low, and swerved the wheel. The car hit the sidewalk and came to a sudden stop. The motorcycle rider didn’t stop—he disappeared into the darkness. Ayan’s Arrival With trembling hands, Alia pulled out her phone and dialed Ayan’s number. “Hello… Ayan… someone just attacked me!” Ayan’s deep voice responded instantly: “I told you this game is dangerous. Where are you?” “Near my apartment…” she panted. “Stay right there. I’m coming.” Within minutes, Ayan’s car pulled up beside hers. He stepped out quickly, his eyes burning with both anger and concern. “Are you okay?” he asked urgently. Alia nodded, but when she looked at the shattered glass of her car, her body trembled again. Ayan bent down, picked up a bullet casing from the ground, and said gravely: “This was only a warning. The real strike hasn’t come yet.” The File and the List Ayan took Alia back with him to the mansion. There, he opened the file again on the table. “Look,” he said, “you’re not the only one on this list. The next name… is Zaryab.” Alia gasped in shock. “Zaryab? But why?” In a serious tone, Ayan replied: “Because he’s getting too close to the truth.” Alia’s mind exploded with doubt. “If Zaryab is in danger, does that mean he’s truly my ally? Or… could he also be part of this deadly game?” Closing the file, Ayan said: “Tomorrow evening, both you and Zaryab must stay alert. The enemy is ready to reveal himself.” The Secret Message That same night, Alia’s phone buzzed. An anonymous message appeared on the screen: “The price of truth is blood. Are you ready?” Her hands shaking, Alia showed the phone to Ayan. He glanced at it and said coldly: “This is not just a threat… it’s a declaration. Next time, he will strike directly.” End of Chapter 4 Through the window, a shadowy figure stood watching them. In his hand was a red marker, and on the paper before him was a list of names. First, he crossed out Anwar. Then, Alia. Now, the third red mark fell on Zaryab’s name. 🔮 Coming Next in Secrets of Silence Alia can no longer trust anyone. Ayan’s warning about Zaryab has shaken her confidence, and the mysterious list has only one message — the enemy is closer than she thinks. The next evening, Alia and Zaryab are forced to meet face to face. But is he really an ally fighting for the truth, or a pawn in the enemy’s deadly game? Meanwhile, another shocking murder rocks the city, leaving a symbol behind — a red cross mark. The killer is no longer hiding in the shadows. He is making his presence known. And this time… the target is someone Alia never expected. ⚡ Chapter 5: The Red Mark — Coming Soon…
By dabeer hashmiabout a year ago in Chapters
📖 Secrets of Silence
The shattered glass from the window still lay scattered across the floor. The wind rushed in, making the curtains sway violently. Alia shivered as she tried to steady herself, but Ayaan’s eyes still carried that same heavy fear. “What is all this?” Alia demanded sharply. “Why do you have Anwar’s file? And who is that man watching us?” Ayaan didn’t reply. He closed the file on the table, picked it up, and said quietly, “It’s not yet time to answer those questions.” Alia snapped angrily, “I’m a reporter. Finding the truth is my job. If you don’t tell me, I’ll uncover it myself!” Ayaan’s gaze remained fixed on her. After a moment, he spoke, “You want the truth? Then be ready. Truth is often like poison.” With that, he opened a copy of the file and placed it in front of her. The moment Alia saw the first page, the color drained from her face. These weren’t Anwar’s business documents— It was a black list. Dozens of names were written there—famous figures of the city, politicians, businessmen, even police officers. Beside each name was a date and a short note: “Incomplete work.” “Threat.” “Must be silenced.”
By dabeer hashmiabout a year ago in Chapters
📖 Secrets of Silence
Chapter 2: "The Door of the Old Mansion" The night had grown deeper. The moon shimmered alone in the sky, while clouds drifted by, hiding it from sight every now and then. At the edge of Noorabad stood the old mansion, drowned in darkness. For years it had seemed abandoned, but tonight its silent walls felt as though they were hiding a secret from Alia. The moment she turned off the car engine, the atmosphere grew even more terrifying. The branches of the trees rustled with the wind, whispering like unseen voices. Alia took a deep breath and slowly walked toward the gate. The hinges groaned as the heavy doors creaked open, and a strange fear gripped her heart. But she did not turn back. The moment she stepped inside, the dry leaves scattered on the ground crunched beneath her shoes. In the darkness, the wounds of time were clearly visible on the mansion’s walls: broken windows, peeling paint, and old portraits dangling loosely from their hooks. “This place really does look like something out of a horror movie…” Alia whispered to herself, but gathered her courage and kept moving forward. Suddenly, the door behind her slammed shut. Her heartbeat raced. “Who’s there?” she called out. Her voice echoed into the darkness, only to fade away. Moments later, footsteps echoed from the staircase—slow, heavy, deliberate steps. Alia clutched her camera bag tightly. From the shadows of the stairs, a tall figure appeared. That face, those piercing eyes… it was Ayaan. He walked down and said only one thing: “You shouldn’t have come here.” Suppressing her fear, Alia steadied her voice: “I’m a journalist. Asking questions is my right. People are saying Anwar’s death happened because of you. Is that true?” A flicker of light passed through Ayaan’s eyes, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he turned away, as if he had no intention of speaking. Alia stepped closer. “If you didn’t do anything, why stay silent? Hiding the truth won’t change reality.” Ayaan stopped. Slowly, he turned his head and said in a deep voice: “Truth isn’t always what you want it to be.” His words sent a chill through Alia. Suddenly, the mansion’s electricity flickered, and for a brief moment the entire hall lit up. Alia’s eyes landed on a portrait hanging above the wall. It showed Anwar and Ayaan standing together. The words slipped out of her mouth: “So you did know Anwar?” Ayaan gave no reply. He climbed the stairs quickly. Alia made a decision in her heart. “This man knows everything. To reach the truth, I’ll have to follow him.” She carefully began to ascend the staircase. Each step groaned beneath her feet, and the darkness grew heavier. At the top was a long corridor, rooms on both sides. The doors were shut, but from within, faint breathing could be heard. Alia pressed her ear closer and realized someone was reciting softly inside—Qur’anic verses, or perhaps a prayer. She slowly opened the door. Inside stood Ayaan. In front of him, on a small table, lay one of Anwar’s files. Alia gasped. “These… these are Anwar’s documents! How did they end up with you?” Ayaan’s voice turned harsh: “This is not your concern. Leave right now.” Alia, gathering courage, stepped forward. “No. Now it is my concern. Because your secrets might decide the fate of this entire city.” At that very moment, the window panes shattered. The room shook as a storm of wind rushed in. Both of them recoiled in shock. Outside, in the darkness, a shadow fled. Ayaan rushed to the window, but the figure was impossible to identify. Clenching his teeth, he muttered: “He’s watching us…” Alia’s trembling voice asked: “Who?” Fear flashed in Ayaan’s eyes. “The same one who killed Anwar. And now he’s following us.” End of Chapter 2: Alia’s heart pounded violently. She now understood this was no ordinary murder, but the beginning of a dark game. Ayaan’s words echoed in her mind: “He’s watching us…” Who was this mysterious enemy? And after Anwar’s death, whose turn would be next?
By dabeer hashmiabout a year ago in Chapters
