Author's note.
Before you begin reading, I want to take a moment to prepare you for the story you’re about to enter.
This is not a love story.
This is a story of power, fear, and resistance. It follows the journey of a young woman who never asked for attention — but caught it anyway, from the worst kind of man. It’s emotional, uncomfortable, and raw, because sometimes truth lives in the dark corners we don't want to look at.
Content warning
This story contains mature and distressing themes, including attempted sexual assault, stalking, obsession, and emotional manipulation. Reader discretion is advised.
Let me introduce you to the two central figures of this story:
Yumna is a 20-year-old Muslim woman, orphaned and living in the United States since the death of her parents. Life hasn’t been kind to her — navigating grief, identity, and faith in a world that often misunderstands her. Despite everything, she has held onto her beliefs with strength and quiet grace. After years of struggle, she finally found peace… but peace is a fragile thing.
Daniel is a 28-year-old Mafia boss — dangerous, powerful, and twisted. He’s a man who’s never heard the word no. To him, women are objects, and money is power. He lives in a world where desire is a game, and people are just pieces on his board. But when he sees Yumna — a woman unlike any he’s ever encountered — something dark ignites in him. Not love. Not admiration. Something far worse.
This is a story of what happens when obsession meets resistance.
When a woman stands her ground, no matter the storm.
Thank you for choosing to read.
-[Aqsa Shoaib]
Chapter 1 : The First Glance.
The streets were alive with voices—laughter, footsteps, the occasional honk from a restless driver. It was just another ordinary afternoon, the kind where no one expects their life to change.
She was walking with a few friends, their chatter soft and respectful. They weren’t Muslim, but they knew her values and honored them. That day, like every day, she was dressed in her black abaya and niqab, her figure wrapped in grace and modesty. She didn’t stand out by intention, but still, there was something about her that drew eyes without effort.
And one pair of eyes, in particular, noticed.
A sleek black car slowed as it passed, its windows tinted dark—almost impossible to see through. But from the inside, he saw her clearly. His gaze caught her, lingered, narrowed.
She was different from everyone else.
And Daniel didn’t miss 'different'.
---
Daniel’s POV
She looked like she belonged to another world—untouched, unbothered, unreachable.
I had seen thousands of faces. People either feared me or tried to impress me. But this girl… she didn’t even notice I existed.
I watched her through the glass, my elbow resting on the car window. There was something unsettling about how calm she was, how unaware of the chaos she was walking past.
Her eyes were the only thing visible—but even they held more silence than most people’s entire existence.
Who was she?
I didn’t chase things. People came to me.
But she…
I knew I’d see her again. And when I did, I wasn’t letting her walk away without knowing who she was.
---
Yumna’s POV
“Aliya, slow down,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag as we crossed the road.
Aliya laughed. “You walk like we’ve got all day!”
I smiled behind my niqab. She didn’t understand. Moving through the world felt different for me. I wasn’t scared—but I was always aware.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
We were mid-conversation when I felt it—that strange tug. Like someone was watching me.
I glanced up, casually. That’s when I saw the car.
Or rather, him in the car.
Daniel.
He didn’t look away. His stare was direct, unapologetic.
I ignored it. Looked back down.
But then something shifted.
The car slowed.
And seconds later, he stepped out.
“Aliya,” I whispered.
“What?”
“He’s coming this way.”
“Who?”
I didn’t answer. I just kept walking, heart pacing faster.
But it was too late—he was already near.
---
Author’s POV
In a city divided by shadows and secrets, sometimes the most dangerous connections begin not with words—but with a single look.
She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever seen.
And he wasn’t someone she could afford to notice.
Yet the moment happened.
And once something begins in Daniel’s world... it rarely ends on your terms.
---
“Excuse me,” his voice was calm but deep, the kind that made silence feel heavier.
Yumna stopped. Not because she wanted to. But because some instinct told her to.
Aliya glanced between them, confused. “Do you know him?”
Yumna didn’t answer. Her eyes met Daniel’s—sharp, unreadable.
“I just… wanted to know your name,” he said, as if that was a normal thing to ask a stranger.
Yumna didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Daniel smiled slightly, almost amused. “No one’s ever ignored me like that before.”
“I didn’t ask you to notice me,” she finally said, voice soft but firm.
Daniel’s smile faded.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then—he smirked. That same dangerous, cocky smirk he gave people before things got… complicated.
He took a step closer.
Yumna instinctively stepped back.
“I don’t know what it is,” he said, his voice lower now, as if meant only for her. “But something about you... it bothers me.”
His eyes scanned her, not in a disrespectful way—but with curiosity. Like he was trying to solve a puzzle that refused to be touched.
“You walk like the world doesn’t deserve to look at you,” he murmured, “and that’s exactly why everyone does.”
Yumna’s brows narrowed beneath her niqab. “If you’re done, I’d like to leave.”
He tilted his head slightly, amused. “I’m not done.”
And then he did what he shouldn’t have—he reached out, slowly, as if testing a boundary he knew existed. His fingers brushed her arm. Light. But still—crossing a line.
Yumna didn’t hesitate.
Smack.
The slap was sharp. Clean. Final.
His face jerked slightly from the force. Even the air around them seemed to pause.
Aliya gasped, but Yumna didn’t flinch. Her hand trembled, but her spine was straight.
Daniel’s eyes turned dark.
Not playful.
Not curious.
Pure rage.
He clenched his jaw, his pride fractured in front of people—by a girl who didn’t even show her face.
“You really think that was smart?” he said, voice shaking with control.
“You touched me,” Yumna said quietly. “You crossed a line.”
He took a step back, slowly—like he was holding himself back from doing something worse.
“You should’ve walked away when you had the chance,” he growled. “Now don’t act surprised when life starts teaching you a lesson.”
Yumna didn’t speak again.
He stared at her for another second, breathing heavily.
Then without another word, he turned around, his coat snapping in the wind as he marched back to his car.
He didn’t slam the door. He didn’t yell.
But the silence he left behind was heavier than any threat.
Yumna stood frozen.
Aliya clutched her arm. “Who was that?”
Yumna finally looked away, her heart racing.
“I think... trouble.”
Yumna’s POV
I kept staring at his car as it disappeared down the road, unable to move.
It felt like something had tied my feet to the ground.
The defiance I’d felt just moments ago was slowly being replaced with fear… and uncertainty.
Did I do the right thing by slapping him?
A voice in my head whispered, What if he comes back? What if this doesn’t end here?
But I shook the thought away.
No, I told myself. He crossed a line. He tried to touch me. I had every right.
I wasn’t going to stay silent just to protect his ego.
Still, something didn’t sit right inside me.
---
Author’s POV
She stood there frozen, her thoughts spinning like a storm.
Even though she had convinced herself that she did the right thing—and he deserved it—there was still a strange heaviness in her chest.
It wasn’t guilt.
It was something else.
Something about him.
The way he looked at her, the way he walked away without a word—like a storm held tightly in his fists.
It left behind a silence too loud to ignore.
She was lost in that silence, eyes still fixed on the spot where his car had disappeared—until Aliya’s voice finally snapped her back to reality.
"Yumna, let’s go," Aliya said, tugging gently at my hand.
"Y-yeah… let’s go," I replied, my heart still racing.
---
Author’s POV
The two of them walked quietly toward Yumna’s apartment.
A few minutes later, Aliya stopped at the gate, turning to her friend with a gentle smile.
"Take care, okay? And don’t overthink it," she said, giving Yumna’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Everything’s going to be alright."
---
Yumna’s POV
I gave her a soft smile and nodded, then stepped inside my apartment.
I had said yes—but was it really possible not to think about it?
As soon as I shut the door, I took off my abaya and headed straight to make wudu.
In that moment, I knew… only prayer could calm the storm building inside me.
---
Author’s POV
After completing her wudu, she stepped onto the prayer mat.
She prayed quietly, her forehead resting in sujood longer than usual.
When she finished, she sat for a long while—reading from her tasbeeh and reciting the Qur’an, allowing the verses to settle her soul.
Time passed slowly.
Eventually, it was time to eat, but Yumna wasn’t hungry. Her body was tired, her mind heavier than ever.
So instead of eating, she changed into something comfortable and went straight to bed.
---
Yumna’s POV
I closed my eyes and lay down, finally beginning to feel a little lighter—like I had handed all my worries to Allah.
That peace… that stillness… it was wrapping itself around me like a blanket.
But just as I was about to drift off, a loud, firm knock on the door jolted me awake.
I sat up, heart thudding again, my gaze disoriented.
Who could it be... at this hour?
