Noor of His Eyes Ⅳ⁴

 ✿ This content is made up of the Author's imagination, or used in a fictitious manner. It's only for entertainment purposes, so please don't take it seriously. ✿

CHAPTER FOUR: WHEN THE QYEEN SPEAK, EVERYONE LISTENS 

"So, everyone..." she began, her voice echoing through the club's speakers, instantly quieting the murmurs of the audience.

She glanced down at Vicky, still falling over and unconscious on the table. "The loser," she announced with a slight smirk, "is not exactly in a condition to take his punishment tonight." She paused, letting her words sink in. "We'll see him again tomorrow."

Fatima's sharp gaze zeroed in on Vicky's friend, the one who had tried to intervene earlier. "You," she called out, pointing a finger at him. "You're with him, right?"

The guy, slightly taken aback by the sudden focus on him, nodded hesitantly, his expression a mix of defiance and nervousness.

"Good," Fatima continued, her voice dripping with authority. "Then bring him back here tomorrow. If he's not a coward and actually has the guts, we'll settle this then."

Her voice was strong, but her body was starting to betray her. She giggled wildly, and her legs began to tremble. She trembled slightly, unable to maintain her balance. James, who had been keeping a close eye on her, immediately stepped in, he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Alright, that's enough," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. Then, without warning, he lifted her effortlessly and draped her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Fatima's world tilted, and she found herself staring at the floor, her hair cascading down in loose waves.

"James, put me down!" she protested. She beat her fists weakly against his back, a childish pout forming on her lips. "I want more drinks! You hear me? More!"

He didn't even flinch at her weak punches. His voice was calm, but there was a firm edge to it that brooked no argument. "I said it's enough, and I meant it. No more, Faati."

"But I want!" she whined, her tone based on a displeased child's as she wiggled against his hold. She struggled to lift her head, trying to look at his face from her upside-down position, but she couldn't quite manage it.

James simply shook his head, his patience stretched but unbroken. "I don't care what you want right now. You're done for the night."

As they neared the exit, Robin, who had been quietly recording everything on his phone, hurriedly tucked it into his pocket and caught up with them. "Let's get her out of here," James ordered, not stopping for a moment.

Robin nodded in agreement, glancing at Fatima's flushed, slightly dazed face. "Yeah, let's go." He stepped ahead and pushed open the club's exit door, holding it wide as James carried Fatima outside into the cool night air.

James walked straight to his car, carefully weaving around people and barriers, his grip on Fatima secure and steady. She continued her half-hearted protests, her fists still occasionally hitting his back, though with far less force now. He finally reached the car and gently lowered her into the passenger seat.

Fatima pouted up at him, her lips forming a perfect little pout. "James... just one last drink. Please..." she pleaded, her voice softer now, almost coaxing.

James paused for a moment, looking at her with a mix of frustration and affection. He sighed deeply, then reached into the backseat and pulled out a bottle of wine he had stashed there for emergencies. He passed it to her without a word, his expression resigned.

"Here," he said gruffly, holding the bottle out to her. "Drink as much as you want."

Fatima's face lit up instantly. She leaned forward, a playful glimmer in her eyes, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it made James's heart skip a beat. "Thank you!" she whispered, the words almost childlike in their gratitude.

James rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across his face. "Just... sit back and drink. And no more requests."

Fatima took the bottle with both hands, hugging it to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. "Yes, sir!" she responded with understated seriousness, quickly unscrewing the cap and taking a long, satisfied sip.

James sat on a driving seat and Robin sit on the front seat beside James.

Fatima, already fully immersed in her wine, paidno attention to them. She hummed softly to herself, content and blissful. Theearlier intensity of the night's challenge seemed like a distant memory as shesipped away happily. 

With one last sigh, James started the car, glancing at Fatima to make sure she was secure. "Alright, time to get this troublemaker home," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The car pulled out of the club's parking lot, the bright neon lights fading away as they drove off into the night, leaving behind the chaos of the club and the memory of another victory for the queen.

---

The shrill sound of the alarm echoed through the dimly lit room, jolting Mr. Ali awake. He blinked groggily, his vision still blurred with sleep. As he glanced to his side, he noticed the empty spot on the bed where his wife usually slept. The absence of her familiar presence made him frown slightly.

"Where is she?" he mumbled to himself, rubbing his eyes.

His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall. The hour hand pointed to the early morning time of Fajr. He breathed out a slow sigh of realization, his expression softening. "It's Fajr time," he murmured, more to affirm to himself. "She must be offering her Salah."

He pulled himself out of bed, stretching his stiff muscles before slipping on his slippers. He shuffled out of the bedroom to the hallway, the quietness of the house contrasting with the slight creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet.

When he entered the living area, he found his wife sitting on the sofa, her posture rigid and tense. Mrs. Ali's gaze flickered between the front door and the clock on the wall, and back to the door again, as if expecting it to swing open at any moment. The lines of worry etched deeply into her face made his heart tighten with concern.

He approached her quietly, lowering himself beside her. "What happened?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring.

Mrs. Ali didn't look at him. Her eyes remained glued to the door, her brows furrowed in distress. "She didn't come back yet," she replied, her voice edged with both worry and a hint of frustration. The censure in her tone was impossible to miss.

Mr. Ali blinked slightly at her words, a sense of unease creeping into his chest. "Did you call her?" he asked, keeping his voice even despite the worry beginning to knot in his stomach.

"She's not picking up," Mrs. Ali murmured, her fingers fiddling restlessly with the hem of her shawl. "Her phone is off."

The frown on Mr. Ali's face deepened. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, trying to think of a solution. "What about her friends?" he asked, his tone taking on a more practical edge.

"James isn't answering either," she said, a noteof helplessness creeping into her voice. She finally turned to look at him, hereyes clouded with a mixture of anxiety and irritation. "I tried calling himseveral times."

Mr. Ali's expression tightened further, but he kept his composure. He knew getting upset wouldn't help. He took a deep breath, his fingers lightly tapping against his knee as he thought of the other option. "And what about Robin?" he inquired calmly, raising an eyebrow.

Mrs. Ali blinked at him, her eyes widening slightly, as if she had just remembered something crucial. "Robin," she whispered under her breath, berating herself internally for not having thought of it earlier. Her hands fumbled to grab her phone, and she quickly searched for his number.

She dialed the number and held the phone to her ear, her heart racing as she listened to the endless ringing. Just when she thought the call would go unanswered, there was a click, and a familiar voice came through.

"Yes, aunty?" Robin's voice sounded a bit weary but respectful as always.

Mrs. Ali felt a rush of relief wash over her, though her voice remained stern. "Where are you, and where is Fatima?" she demanded, the urgency in her voice unmistakable.

"We're on the way to your house," Robin answered, the slight hum of the car's engine audible in the background. He turned his head to glance at the backseat and noticed Fatima slumped against the window, her breathing slow and steady. "She's with us."

He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But... she's sleeping right now." His tone softened as he looked at her peaceful, almost childlike expression. The wild, defiant energy she had displayed at the club had melted away, leaving her looking cocky and innocent.

Mrs. Ali's lips tightened into a thin line, her fingers gripping the phone a bit too tightly. "Okay," she breathed out, trying to maintain her composure. "Come fast."

She ended the call without another word and let out a long, deep sigh. The tension in her shoulders didn't dissipate completely, but the sharp edge of fear that had gripped her heart loosened its hold slightly.

"They're on their way," she said, looking up at Mr. Ali with a weary smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Mr. Ali nodded slowly, absorbing the information. He could see the feeling of exhaustion and worry etched into his wife's face. Guilt tugged at him for not being able to do more to ease her worries. He reached out and gently cupped her face in his large, warm hands, his thumbs lightly brushing against her cheeks.

"Don't worry about her," he murmured softly, his voice gentle and soothing. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, a gesture filled with love and peace of mind. "She'll be here soon, safe and sound."

Mrs. Ali closed her eyes at his touch, her heart calming slightly. She leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his steady presence. "Insha'Allah," she whispered softly, the word a prayer and a hope rolled into one.

Mr. Ali lingered for a moment, then straightened up. He glanced at the clock, noting the time. "I'm going to the Masjid," he said, his voice steady and resolute. He glanced back at his wife one last time before heading towards the exit.

---

❁𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑❁

❀𝕴𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙!❀

♡ 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎 ♡

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