Episode 5: THE WOUND DOESN'T BLEED

Nina woke in the dead of night, her heart pounding as she heard Rayyan’s voice echoing from downstairs. He was speaking loudly on the phone, his tone sharp and intense. She froze, struggling to keep silent, her ears straining to catch every word despite the distance.

“Why is he shouting like that?” she whispered to herself, sitting up on the edge of her bed, every nerve alert.

Rayyan’s voice was laced with anger. “I’ve done everything you told me! Don’t you dare touch my little sister!”

The raw fury in his words sent a chill through Nina. She sensed the gravity of the situation—the kind of anger reserved for someone powerful and dangerous. The tension in his voice thickened the air, pulling her deeper into the scene unfolding far below her.

The name of some ‘big boss’ came up repeatedly, accompanied by subtle threats from the person on the other end. Nina tried to catch the name but could only grasp the weight of the threats—they felt like death sentences. Despite Rayyan’s rage, he seemed forced into submission by an unseen, terrifying authority. Danger was closing in fast.

Quietly, Nina crept closer to the stairs, hiding in the shadows as she watched Rayyan in a way she never had before. The fierce, untouchable man she knew seemed to crack, revealing a vulnerable side she hadn’t imagined. Fear and pity wove themselves through her heart as she tried to make sense of what she was witnessing.

The call ended abruptly, and with a sudden slam, Rayyan threw his phone against the wall. The impact shook the plaster, and he stood there motionless, his eyes red, as if fighting back tears. This was a side of him she had never seen, a man weighed down by burdens no one else knew about.

Before Nina could retreat, her foot nudged the floor, making a soft noise. Rayyan spun around instantly, their eyes locking in a tense moment of silence.

“Who’s there? How long have you been listening?” His voice was calm but firm, exhaustion coloring his tone more than anger.

“I—I didn’t mean to…” Nina stammered, caught and trembling.

“How long?” he pressed again, his gaze steady.

“Just now… I didn’t want to,” she whispered, barely audible.

She stood silently, gazing at him differently for the first time—as a flawed, wounded human rather than the predator he often seemed. Compassion softened her eyes as she sensed the turmoil beneath his harsh exterior. They shared a charged stillness, each searching the other’s face.

“Maybe you’re hurt too,” Nina murmured, “not just scary.”

Rayyan was quiet, then nodded slowly.

He leaned against the wall and sighed deeply. “Not everyone chooses this path because they want to.”

The tiredness in his voice revealed a man nearly broken. Without words, Nina felt his silent confession: he was trapped in a life he hadn’t wished for. She asked softly, “Why did it have to come to this?”

Nina shifted, keeping a careful distance as she asked quietly, “Who’s your sister? Why is she so important?”

Rayyan’s expression tightened, the weight of his secret pressing down. “She’s only twelve... I can’t let her get caught up in this.”

A pause. Then his voice dropped lower, heavy with responsibility. “If I quit, they’ll use her as a hostage.”

Nina’s heart clenched. The cruelty of it made her angry and sad all at once.

“That’s… so cruel,” she breathed, tears threatening to spill. Inside her swirled a confusing storm of hatred, sympathy, anger, and doubt. She barely recognized her own feelings anymore.

“I don’t know what to feel,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

“You’re still wrong,” she said, voice trembling, “for dragging me into your hell.”

Rayyan listened silently, pain flickering in his eyes. “I know... and I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head. “But if you were me... you’d do the same things you hate.”

His words revealed the torment of a man caught between survival and conscience. Nina wished she could believe she’d never be pushed to that point.

In the quiet between them, two wounded souls found a fragile understanding. Empathy took root where before there was only fear and anger. They weren’t friends, nor had they forgiven each other, but something had shifted—a first truth spoken in the dark.

“I guess maybe we’re both broken... just in different ways,” Nina whispered.

Rayyan nodded softly.

No promises were made that night. No hugs or apologies—just honesty.

“I can’t promise anything,” Rayyan said quietly, “but I’ll try to be honest.”

“That’s enough for now,” Nina replied.

The next morning, Rayyan wore his usual cold, commanding mask again. But Nina saw the cracks beneath, the subtle change she vowed to watch closely.

Every time he left the house, her thoughts drifted to his little sister—a child caught in a cruel game. Sympathy mixed with frustration filled her mind. She understood, finally, why Rayyan was willing to do anything.

And every time she caught her reflection, Nina realized she wasn’t just a victim anymore. She was a witness to wounds deeper than flesh, wounds that scarred the soul.

She sat with her diary, pen trembling as she wrote:

“He bleeds no blood, but I see the wounds in his eyes. And I hate him because I care.”!

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