SHUGER DADY

About this Novel

He lay stretched across his large bed, half-covered in a blanket, his eyes gently shut in deep sleep. The room was still, peaceful — the type of calm only found in early morning slumber. Suddenly, the door swung open. A young girl burst in, her voice sharp and urgent:“Uncle, uncle, uncle! Come quickly — Ghaisha says you’re needed in the parlour, Abba!” She repeated herself, this time a little louder. Her voice reached him, even through the fog of sleep. Slowly, he opened his eyes — eyes sharp, striking, resembling those of a panther. He watched her approach the bedside. She was young — no older than 14 — pale-skinned with a delicate build, but curvy for her age. Her features were already blooming: wide expressive eyes, a pointed nose, and the way she pushed out her small lips gave away her spoiled nature. She just stood there, pouting, waiting for a response. Shaheed studied her quietly, then tossed the blanket aside and planted his firm feet on the cold floor. Without a word, he rose — tall, fair, broad-chested, every muscle chiseled like steel. His hair was thick and well-styled, a natural crown of elegance. Despite being close to 48, his youthful appearance betrayed his age.