Sarah 
Adnan and Razia’s marriage had been crumbling for years. What had once been love had turned into an arrangement one that neither of them truly wanted anymore. Adnan, a wealthy businessman in Lahore, had grown distant, treating Razia as nothing more than an accessory to his high-profile life. He had given her a luxurious home, fine clothes, and expensive jewelry, but not the affection she craved.
And so, in the loneliness of her golden cage, Razia had found comfort elsewhere in Imran.
Imran was everything Adnan was not. Passionate. Attentive. And dangerously unpredictable. He wasn’t just her lover; he was the fire that burned away the emptiness inside her. But passion often comes with a price. And for Razia, the price would be blood.
The whispers between Razia and Imran turned into dangerous promises. Divorce was never an option not when Adnan’s pride and wealth were at stake. But an unfortunate accident? That could work. Late one evening, as the city lights flickered through their bedroom window, Razia finally asked, “Are you ready?”
Imran smirked, twirling the knife between his fingers. “I’ve waited long enough.” They had planned it carefully Adnan’s death would be swift. A simple break-in gone wrong. The police would suspect a robbery, and soon after, Razia and Imran would be free to start a new life.
But no plan ever goes perfectly.
Adnan came home late that night. He tossed his keys on the marble table and loosened his tie, exhaustion pulling at his features. He didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind him. The blade sank into his chest. A sharp pain exploded in his body, his breath hitching as he staggered back, clutching at the handle protruding from him. His eyes widened as he recognized the face of his attacker.
“Razia?” His voice was hoarse with disbelief.
But Razia wasn’t alone. Imran stood beside her, his face twisted in a smirk, Adnan collapsed to his knees, blood pooling beneath him. He looked up at his wife, his breath ragged. “Don’t… kill me,” he gasped. “I’ll divorce you.”For a moment, there was silence. A hesitation. Razia turned to Imran, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. And then she did the unthinkable. She stepped forward, pulling the knife from Adnan’s chest, and before Imran could react she plunged it into him.
Imran’s mouth opened in shock as pain radiated through his body. He stumbled back, grasping at the wound, his eyes filled with confusion and betrayal.
“R-Razia?” he stammered, She leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “Did you really think I’d let you have me so easily?” Imran collapsed, his lifeblood spilling onto the expensive floor. Razia took a deep breath, stepping over the bodies of the two men who had defined her life one by marriage, the other by passion. But neither had truly known her. She wiped the blade clean and walked to the phone. With practiced calm, she dialed the police.
Inspector Malik arrived at the scene within the hour. The mansion smelled of iron and deceit. He found Razia sitting on the couch, wrapped in a shawl, her hands trembling just enough to be believable.“He attacked my husband,” she said, pointing at Imran’s lifeless body. “I tried to stop him, but – ” her voice broke into practiced sobs.
Malik examined the crime scene carefully. It was too clean. Too perfect. And then, he saw it in the smallest detail. The blood spatter on Razia’s sleeve didn’t match her story. He looked at her, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”Razia froze, but only for a second. Then, with a slow smile, she said, “Prove it.”
The game wasn’t over yet. And Razia always played to win.
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