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Weeks of quiet hostility passed inside the ancestral haveli. Ayla kept to her books, while Zain buried himself in the family business. Yet their paths crossed constantly in the narrow corridors. One evening, finding Ayla trying to lock the heavy terrace doors in the heavy wind, Zain stepped in to help. His hand brushed hers, and she pulled back instantly. 'I don't need your help, Zain,' she said, her voice shaking but defiant. Zain locked the doors easily, staring into her dark eyes. 'In this house, Ayla, we both need all the help we can get. The walls have ears, and our enemies are closer than you think.'