Chapter 2 The Attack

The next day, in the evening, like every other evening she was getting ready for her new customer. Today the make up artist was being extremely vigilant.

"You've to look perfect, Roshanay," he said while applying the eye liner to her, "the customer is very important. He somehow knows Moosa so you've to please him so he could be our regular customer. Your uncle has asked me to tell you this. And on top of that, he had personally asked for you." he kept on talking while getting her ready for the night.

Moosa

She had heard this name quite often. He was some famous business men and a partner to the world famous company, Syed enterprises and it was a privilege for those who knew him. What he had collected from media about him was that he was a very sincere and devoted man, having a number of NGO's under his control. From time to time, he gave funds to different orphanages and school. He was one of the most influential personalities of the country.

'What a nice man is he and here my uncle does not have an ounce of humanity' she thought.

Apart from that, one thing she noticed about him, he was really handsome. His face was so attractive and beautiful just like her Hayder was.

A number of girl died to marry him. Only a single glance by him would make them head over heels. There only wish to somehow be able to marry him.

All of this information, she got from a video on youtube.

Marriage.

'Can he marry you, Roshanay?' A sudden thought hit her.

She always wanted to marry. Getting married was her wish so she could be free of this life because his uncle, who was absolutely a cunning man, had made this rule that marriage could be the only way to set a prostitute free from this brothel. All the girls have to follow it as he cunningly made them sign a contract. He knew it well, that no man would ever want a prostiute as his wife that was why he made this rule so all of them could be in his captivity for forever.

And here she just planned her's and Moosa's wedding in a millisecond in her brain. She just scoffed at her thoughts. It was impossible for a man like him to even look at a prostitute like her.

She was not even close to his standard.

Rather, her heart was still in the captivity of Hayder.

Hayder, her love. Her only love.

"Are you even listening to me Roshanay? He is a very important client. He could help your uncle to get a chance to work with, Moosa. So be at your best," the make up artist said again.

She could just sigh with frustration and sadness, she wanted the night to pass quickly.

As a reply to him, she just nodded.

After all it was her work to please others.

She wished she had the power to go against her uncle but she couldn't. She still remembered his threat which had her mind boggled, how could he be so cruel.

'If you didn't agree to my demands and didn't become a prostitute, I'll make my men fuck your mother and then viral the video. Now it's in your hands, either you prefer your dignity over your mother's or your mother's dignity to yours.'

Her uncle was a strong and well connected man, apart from this brothel, he had a business to show the world his source of income is from a business not from some brothel. Though, most of the money he made was from the kotha.

Infront of the world, he was a very pious man who apparently was providing shelter to his dead brother's wife and daughter but only she knew his real face.

She was followed by one of the girls to a room where she were to wait for her customer as he didn't arrive yet. She sat on the sofa waiting for him, like every other night, her heart again was beating incessantly. She closed her eyes when those green eyes lingered infront her and she suddenly opened her eyes again.

How could she forget those eyes?

There was no chance.

She had became used to, to all this. Different men coming and quenching their desires on her body and tonight someone asked for her specially, means his uncle would be heavily paid. She looked at the sky through the window, her eyes glimmered with unseen tears. Each day a part of her soul was dying.

When would this misery end?

This profession, made her feel like, she has no self respect. She drinked in all the curses and names given to her gracefully. She wanted to reach a status where all those people who call her slut daily just to mock her would experience the same thing as she was going through. Her hands were tied, she knew. But she also knew, circumstances don't remain same. They change. She had her firm belief in Allah. The Almighty.

Time pass, but still the man didn't show up and she was feeling tired so much that her eyes began to grow weary and before she knew, her eyes closed and she slept on the couch.

When her eyes opened, she found Yasir, standing there, saying something worriedly to her but she could just decipher one sentence that made her sit up and put her mind on alert.

"Run from the back door!"