Thriller Is money, sex and revenge such things that makes humans animals ?

[Naruto411]

Zainab sat in the grand lounge, the opulence of her surroundings reflecting the life she had built alongside Rashid, but it all felt hollow without the control she desired. Farhan, her pride and joy, suckled at her breast as she rocked him gently. He was nearly four, but Zainab had insisted on continuing breastfeeding despite Rashid's occasional objections. She had read somewhere that prolonged breastfeeding, along with proper nutrition, would not only help him grow strong physically but mentally as well. To her, Farhan was more than just a son—he was her hope for freedom.

Her fingers brushed through his soft hair, her gaze drifting to the large windows where the sunlight filtered in, casting a warm glow over the lavish furnishings. Every inch of this house screamed wealth, success, and luxury, but the price Zainab had paid for it gnawed at her. Rashid provided the lifestyle, but at a cost. Imran controlled her, not just through their shared secrets, but also with his demands and the threat of exposure that always loomed. Zainab dreamed of a life where she no longer needed to rely on Rashid’s indifference or Imran’s manipulation. Farhan would be her way out—a son she could mold, someone who would bring the world to her feet.

She looked down at him, her heart swelling with a strange mixture of love and ambition. “My boy,” she whispered, “you will grow to be powerful. You’ll give me everything I deserve.”

Farhan blinked up at her, too young to understand, but Zainab saw the future in his innocent gaze. He would grow into a man—her man, her protector, her key to escape the grasp of those who held power over her.

But there was a crack in her carefully crafted life, a threat that grew more each day. Ayaan.

She could hear him now, somewhere in the house, probably pacing through the hallways, lost in thought like always. At fourteen, Ayaan was old enough to notice things, too smart for his own good. He was nothing like Farhan. Where her son was malleable and obedient, Ayaan was sharp, aware, and distant. Rashid had ignored him for so long that now, when his father tried to connect, Zainab made sure to sabotage those attempts. She couldn't risk Ayaan becoming closer to Rashid, couldn't allow the boy to see through her façade.

Zainab kissed Farhan’s forehead, whispering sweet promises of the future to him, when a soft knock came at the door.

It was Ayaan.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes downcast as if sensing that he was always intruding where he didn’t belong. Zainab’s lips tightened, her demeanor shifting. She turned cold in an instant.

“What is it, Ayaan?” she asked, her voice clipped.

Ayaan hesitated, his gaze briefly flicking to Farhan in her arms. There was a tenderness in his eyes when he looked at the younger boy, a protectiveness that Zainab had noticed. But she couldn’t afford to let him get too close to anyone in this house. Farhan was hers, and Ayaan would never be a part of their world.

“Father asked if I wanted to go to the office with him tomorrow,” Ayaan said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

Zainab’s mind raced. She couldn’t allow that. Ayaan had been gaining more of Rashid’s attention lately, and it irked her to no end. Rashid was still distant, but there were moments—brief ones—where it seemed like he was trying to connect with his estranged son. Zainab couldn’t let that happen. She had worked too hard to keep Ayaan in the shadows.

“Are you sure he said that?” Zainab asked, her tone laced with doubt, as if she were questioning Ayaan’s honesty. “Rashid has been very busy. I find it hard to believe he’d want you to distract him from his work.”

Ayaan shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip. “He asked me... after dinner last night.”

Zainab's eyes narrowed. She needed to act fast.

“Well, maybe he was just being polite,” she said, her voice turning cold. “You know how your father is. He says things, but that doesn’t mean he really wants you there.”

Ayaan’s shoulders slumped slightly, and Zainab could see the disappointment washing over him. It was exactly what she wanted. She had spent years sowing seeds of doubt in the boy, ensuring that he felt like an outsider, a mistake, someone who didn't belong.

“Why don’t you focus on your studies?” she added with a dismissive wave. “That’s where your talents lie. Business is for men like Rashid and Farhan.”

The sting of her words hit Ayaan like a slap, but he had grown accustomed to Zainab’s coldness. Still, it hurt. He nodded quietly and turned to leave, the rejection weighing heavily on his young heart.

As soon as Ayaan disappeared down the hallway, Zainab let out a breath of relief. That had been close. She couldn’t afford for Ayaan to start thinking he had a place in this family. She had to keep pushing him away, had to make sure Rashid never saw him as anything more than a distant son.

Zainab shifted Farhan in her arms, feeling the soft weight of him against her chest. “You,” she whispered, “you are my future. You will give me everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She leaned back in the chair, rocking Farhan gently as he continued to nurse, oblivious to the intricate web of manipulation and control his mother had woven around him.