Page 57 of The Matchmaker

Is Borzu hearing all this? Are the police on their way?

“You took her from me,” he continues. “Brainwashed her into falling in love with someone else with your fucked-up arranged marriage trap.”

“Avani?” He already broke up their wedding. What will it take for him to move on? “Wait”—understanding dawns on me—“are you…are you talking about Lena?”

“Bingo.”

I rack my brain. Did Lena have a scary ex? How did I miss this? I take in his narrowed eyes. “Wh-where is she? What have you done to her and Tanvir?”

“Wouldn’tyoulike to know? It took me years, but I was gettingsoclose.” He takes a step closer toward me. “We were finally friends. She was finally starting to get it. That we were meant to be together. I’d worked up the nerve to ask her out. Got us reservations for a romantic dinner. That’s when she dropped the bomb on me. She told me she was working with you. Said you were going to find her ‘the one.’ I warned her it was cultish bullshit. That you’re a snake oil salesman. I said she should look at the people who were already in her life. I was too late. She got mad at me for wanting tohelpher. Toldme to leave her alone. If it wasn’t for your meddling, she would have been mine.” He glares at me. “And then you have the nerve to try to setmeup? That’s a bridge too far.”

“I haven’t tried to set you up!”

“Uh-huh.”

“I haven’t,” I insist. “I don’t know who you are!”

“My dad thought he could run my life. Try to get me matched up behind my back. Nice fucking try. Bad enough you ruined my chances with Lena. Then you tried to fuckmeover? No way. You’re not going to get a chance to hurt anyone else ever again.”

Matched up behind my back.I move to protest, and then I grow still.

Oh.

I take in this man’s set jaw. His glowering expression. So similar to the man I spoke to just over a month ago. The one with the graying goatee. I remember how he leaned across his desk. How he glared at me and demanded I set up his son behind his back. Basit Latif.

“If your father is Basit Latif, he did reach out to us,” I tell him. “But I told him no. I never signed you on as a client.”

He doesn’t reply. It’s as though he can’t hear me. As though my words are mist in the air. He’s clearly out of his mind. There’s no point in reasoning with him, but I think of Lena and Tanvir. I have to get through to him. I have to try.

“How is hurting Lena going to make her see things your way?” I ask him.

“Ever heard of staging an intervention? I tried with the podcast. I thought for sure the fallout with Avani and Dev would’ve brought her back to her senses, but by then she was in too deep with you. My emails bounced back. Sheblockedmy number.” He moves even closer. We’re practically nose to nose.I fight the urge to shrink away. To move back. There’s no telling what he’ll do, but smelling my fear will only embolden him. “I thought if I could get some time alone with her to explain, I could make her see we’re meant to be.”

Lights turn on in Khala’s house. Her front door swings open.

“Auntie!” Lilah hops onto the front porch. “You forgot your purse!” She holds up my leather bag.

“Go inside, Lilah!” My knees go wobbly. “Now!”

The man pulls something from his pocket. My blood goes cold. A gun. He holds it low. “Get in the car. It’s you or her.”

Nina joins Lilah on the porch. “Nura, come back. Let’s talk.” She pauses as she sees the man. Confusion crosses her face.

In a split second, I feel the cold metal press sharply against my midsection.

“I’m fine, Nina!” I call out. “Nothing to worry about. Just…catching up with a neighbor.”

Please don’t come closer. Please close the door.

She frowns. Wordlessly, she ushers Lilah inside. The door shuts. A sob escapes my throat.

“Doubt she bought that piss-poor performance. She’s probably calling the police,” he mutters. “Get in the car. If you care what happens to them, you’ll do as I say.”

“Listen, I get it,” I tell him. “You’re furious. But I can’t make Lena fall in love with you. Hurting me isn’t going to get you what you want.”

“It’s probably too late for Lena. That’s my tragedy to own. I’ll make my peace with it.”

“What does that mean?” My voice rises. “Have you hurt them? Are they all right?”

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