Chapter 3 — The Trap
Sameer spent the next few days moving as if the ground under him was still solid. He met a property broker about a second flat near Aaliya’s side of the city. He even looked at new cars online, already deciding which one he would buy once everything was settled.
At home he stayed careful. He asked about Imran’s school. He praised the food. He kissed the boy on the head before bed. The fight from the other night had already shrunk in his mind into something that could be managed. Sana had been angry. Women got angry. Then they adjusted. That was how it worked in his head.
He still believed the house was his. The money was his. The decisions were his. Sana had no real power over any of it.
---
One evening he came home late than usual. Sana sat at the dining table with a thin folder in front of her. Imran was already asleep.
Sameer dropped his keys on the side table.
“What’s that?”
She opened the folder and slid two sheets toward him.
“Certified copies of the house papers. And the commercial unit.”
He glanced at them, then looked up, irritated.
“I know what the papers look like.”
“The originals are no longer in the drawer you keep them in,” she said. “They are locked away. Any letter from the society will come to me first. The large savings account has already been moved. You still have enough in the joint account for the usual bills. Nothing will bounce. But the rest is not under your control anymore.”
Sameer stared at her. For a second he thought she was bluffing. Then he saw the bank stamp and the date.
The first real fear settled in his chest.
“You can’t do that.”
“I already did.”
He took a step closer. “This is my house.”
Sana did not raise her voice.
“It is in both our names. You never bothered to check how much of it actually depended on my signature.”
He reached for the papers. She closed the folder and stood up.
“You can shout. You can hit me again. It will not change what is already done.”
Sameer’s face went dark. He stepped forward and struck her hard across the face with the back of his hand. The sound cracked through the quiet room. Sana staggered against the table, one hand flying to her cheek. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she did not cry out.
“You think you can take everything from me?” he snarled. “The house, the money, the factory, the papers—everything I built? You are nothing without me. I will take it all back. And I will make you regret this.”
He raised his hand again. Sana did not flinch. Tears ran down her face, but her voice, when it came, was steady.
“That is the last time you will ever touch me.”
Sameer stared at her for a second, breathing hard, then turned and stormed out of the room. The front door slammed.
Sana stood alone in the living room, cheek burning, tears still falling. The last of her doubt was gone. She wiped her face, went to the phone, and dialled the number Farooq had given her.
“It’s time,” she said quietly. “Send them.”
---
Aaliya called him the next afternoon. Her voice was low and urgent.
“My father knows. He found out about the nikah talk. He’s furious. He told me never to see you again.”
Sameer started to speak. She cut him off.
“I’m not listening to him. I don’t care what he says. I love you. I’ve always loved you. If he tries to stop us I’ll leave with you tonight. We can go somewhere else. Anywhere. Just tell me when.”
Silence stretched on the line for a moment.
“You’re serious?” he asked.
“I’ve never been more serious. I want to be your wife. Second wife, first wife—I don’t care what the order is. I just want to be with you. My father can hate me if he wants. I’m choosing you.”
“Then let’s do it. Properly. Soon. I’m ready.”
She did not hang up in anger. She stayed on the line until he promised he would find a way.
Sameer sat in his car outside the office for a long time with the phone still in his hand. The second flat, the second marriage, the careful plan—everything had begun to tilt.
---
That night Sana stood alone in the bathroom after Imran was asleep. She looked at her own face in the mirror. The mark of his hand was already darkening on her cheek.
She had moved the money. She had secured the papers. She had spoken to Farooq. And now he had hit her again—this time not in anger over questions, but because she had taken what he believed belonged only to him.
There was no doubt left.
She turned off the light and stepped out of the bathroom. The plan would move forward at once.
---
Sameer went to bed that night still believing he had options. He could talk to the bank. He could hire a better lawyer. He could force the papers back somehow. He could still bring Aaliya around once she calmed down. He still thought time and money and authority would fix what had broken.
Sana stood in the doorway of their bedroom and watched him fall asleep.
She knew he was wrong.
The trap was already closed. He just had not felt the walls yet.
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