Dusk to Dawn (The Legacy Duet - 1)

𝕿𝖚𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖘

𝕴 fell back, starfishing on the bed, letting the mattress envelop my tired body, not even bothering to take off my clothes and heels, ignoring the knock on my door.

What a day.

I didn't remember falling asleep. I didn't remember getting up either. Since I'd snuck back into my apartments, flopped onto my big, dreamy bed, and crashed, I'd been functioning on autopilot.

Last night had almost seemed like a mirage and in the cold light of day, doubt crept in.

No matter how I acted with Asfand and I refused to think about that behavior too closely, I was having thoughts about him. Thoughts that wouldn't stop. Dangerous, conflicting thoughts that would lead to disaster. He'd been nothing but a gentleman, driving me to my side of the manor, helping me out of the car, and leaving with a soft goodbye. Leaving me unbalanced, frustrated, and horribly confused.

The knocking didn't cease.

"Ms. Mughal?" Ugh.

"Yes?"

Someone was always standing on the other side of my closed bedroom door, rapping their knuckles raw. Desperate for a crumb of my attention, or in need of my face for a public relations objective, or a signature for some endorsement or sponsorship.

And with the responsibilities I'd taken, it was ramping up. Meetings, taking calls and plowing through paperwork all day to get things settled for the first-ever Mughal Foundation Gala, a project that I envisioned but was officially handed to me by my grandfather. A Mughal family staple, philanthropy had long been a part of the company's values but an annual gala was the first of its kind. A framework of bones pinned together with ambition and ruthless desire, Daada Jaan had brilliantly positioned the foundation as one of the country's most respected nonprofits. Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, I had been the heart, drive, and soul behind it.

For all his traditional and old-fashioned notions and as the stiff upper lipped chairman of the board, Daada Jaan supported my vision. And while I'd done the absolute best, everyone had their expectations of me and had no trouble making them known. They expected me to excel. Wanted me to knock this out of the park. All without so much as a piece of paper to my name. The board expected bigger donations, more fund-raisers, and a quicker pace on the relief projects, but God forbid the donors knew who was in charge. I was good enough to get the job done, but not to have my name on it.

The fucking patriarchal system.

Neither Altamash nor Taimoor would have needed the board's approval. If the world was fair, I wouldn't have needed the approval either. But I had to get it passed by three governing committees, the CEO and the President. None of them questioned my ability to lead, just the name on the paper.

"Your grandfather has asked to see you in half an hour, ma'am."

Crap. It took all of two seconds for reality to catch up with me.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

I didn't know if I was more terrified or just plain wary to meet him.

Who was I kidding?

It was going to be a blood bath. Showering would have translated to hiding, so I quickly changed into a simple high waisted jeans and black t-shirt, threw on a blazer, took a few minutes to make myself presentable, perfumed up, and braided my hair back from my face.

It was time to pay the devil his due.

Ready to go, my escort, Baila took me to the heart of the manor, its piece de résistance, the main office. Servants stared at us, a few whispered, obviously aware of the newest problem in the house, but I strode on determined not to show a chink in my armor. As the largest official room in the manor, only eclipsed by the size of the main library, the office was Daada Jaan's fortress, conveniently located smack dab in the middle of the entire structure, a long way from my apartments.