The morning light slipped through the curtains, spilling gold over her pink skin, For a moment, she looked almost unreal like she didn't belong to this ordinary world at all.

A soft smile curved her lips as the warmth brushed against her face. Without opening her eyes, she turned lazily in bed, sinking deeper into the comfort.

These past two days...

ever since she had returned to her apartment...

she felt normal again.

Less lonely.

Almost... happy.

Even Aunty Hajira's constant nagging felt comforting now, like a familiar noise she had once taken for granted.

With a quiet sigh, she finally sat up and checked the time.

Seven in the morning.

She had time to move slowly, to do things at her own pace.

She could make breakfast... sit and eat properly... And that's exactly what she had been doing for the past two days.

But deep down, in a small, quiet corner of her heart, there was a fear.

A whisper.

That this peace... it was temporary.

And she knew it.

Still, she pushed the thought away.

She didn't want to ruin this moment.

Getting up, she headed to the bathroom, brushing her teeth before stepping into a quick shower. By the time she got ready for university, a sense of lightness had settled over her.

For the past two days, she hadn't missed a single class.

Because those few hours...

They made her feel like herself again.

After a quick breakfast, she left for university.

Today, she had decided she would do something different.

And she did.

By afternoon, after her classes ended, she decided to go window shopping.

For almost two hours, she wandered from one shop to another, letting herself get lost in small, meaningless joys. In between, she stopped at a cozy little café for coffee, then later had lunch at her favorite restaurant.

She was halfway through her meal when her eyes drifted to the shop across the street.

And then... she saw it.

An abaya.

Rose gold.

Elegant. Soft. Almost glowing under the lights.

It wasn't from some high-end boutique. Just a small, ordinary shop for people like her.

But that piece...

It was anything but ordinary.

Handcrafted. Delicate. Beautiful in a quiet way.

And she had always been weak for things like that.

Finishing her meal quickly, she paid the bill and walked straight to the shop. Within minutes, the abaya was hers, bought at a reasonable price that somehow made it feel even more precious.

With a small, satisfied smile, she returned home.

She had just taken off her hijab and abaya and poured herself a glass of water, she was about to take a sip when the doorbell rang..

For a second...

her heart stopped.

That quiet fear she had been ignoring clawed its way back to the surface but she pushed it down.

Walking to the door, she opened it.

A man stood there in a driver's uniform.

She recognized him immediately he was the same one who had dropped her home.

Confusion flickered across her face.

Seeing that, he quickly handed her a black card.

"Mrs. Saeed, this is from Mr. Saeed."

Her brows furrowed.

"Why?"

"He said you have to be ready tomorrow at exactly seven. You have to attend a party."

A party?

Confusion settled in her chest.

Yahzaan had made it clear... whatever existed between them was meant nothing.

So why this?

But she asked nothing more.

Just nodded.

The driver left and she closed the door slowly and walked back inside, sitting down on the couch, the card still in her hand.

Her thoughts were tangled.

And then her phone rang.

Unknown number.

She stared at the screen for a moment.

The call ended.

But it rang again.

This time, she answered but before she could speak, his voice reached her.

Familiar and Possessive.

And her face lost its colour slightly.

"Enjoying, Layla?" he said. "Two days, and you forgot your husband? You are really a cruel woman."

She stayed silent.

A soft, mocking chuckle echoed from the other side.

"No salam now? I see how it is."

Quickly she mumbled a quiet salam.

He hummed in response.

"You received the card?"

"Yes."

"Buy something good to wear. You're attending a party."

"But you said..."

"I know what I said," he cut her off smoothly. "I want you to enjoy your life too."

She didn't respond.

Because she didn't want to go.

Not there.

Not where he would be.

Her silence stretched.

And he noticed.

"It's not negotiable, Layla," he added, his tone hardening just enough. "Be ready at seven. My driver will pick you up. And if you don't show up... There will be consequences. Do you understand?"

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

She wanted to snap. To curse him. To say everything sitting on the edge of her tongue.

But she swallowed it.

"...Okay," she said softly.

And before he could say another word she cut the call.

Meanwhile, on the other side Yahzaan was looking at the beeping phone in his hand with a slow, knowing smirk curving his lips.

Tomorrow.

The thought lingered in his mind like something he had been waiting for... something he had already planned ten steps ahead. There was a quiet satisfaction in his chest, the kind that came when things were finally moving the way he wanted.

Leaning back slightly, he ran a hand through his hair before picking up his phone again.

There was only one person he could call for this.

Only one person he trusted enough.

Emad.

The phone rang twice before the call connected.

"What do you want, Yahzaan?"

Emad's voice was flat. Dry. Not even trying to hide the irritation underneath.

Yahzaan let out a low chuckle.

"That's how you greet me now?" he said lazily. "It's been weeks, brother. You're still holding a grudge?"

A pause.

Then, lighter... teasing.

"Or should I be concerned? You've been thinking about me too much lately... is there something you want to confess?"

"Fuck you, Yahzaan."

The reply came instantly, sharp and without hesitation.

"If you called me for this bullshit, hang up. I'm not in the mood."

Yahzaan smirked, shaking his head as if he expected nothing less.

"Relax," he said. "I need a favor."

Emad becomes silent for a second.

"What favor?"

"I want you to pick my wife up tomorrow. From her apartment."

Another pause.

"And?" Emad asked, already sensing there was more.

"And you'll stay with her the whole time," Yahzaan continued. "Wherever she goes... you'll be there. Like a shadow."

This time, the silence stretched longer then came a dry, almost disbelieving scoff.

"And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I'm asking you to."

The answer was simple. Too simple.

Emad let out a humorless laugh.

"Go find someone else," he said. "I'm not interested in playing bodyguard for your... sudden marriage."

There was something sharp in the way he said it not just annoyance, something deeper.

"Emad."

One word.

The teasing tone was gone.

Completely.

Yahzaan straightened slightly, his gaze hardening, his voice dropping into something quieter... but far more dangerous.

"I only trust you around my wife."

That made Emad stop.

Not because of the words.

But because of the weight behind them.

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his face.

"I don't understand you," he said after a moment, his voice no longer sharp, but heavy with frustration. "You don't make impulsive decisions. That's not who you are."

A pause.

"So what changed?" he added. "What did she do?"

Yahzaan said nothing.

And that silence stretched.

Emad let out a quiet scoff.

"That's exactly my problem," he muttered. "You married her overnight. No explanation. No warning. You expect me to trust that?"

Another pause.

"I don't trust her."

The words landed.

And this time, something in Yahzaan shifted subtly but dangerously.

"Choose your next words carefully," he said, his voice low, controlled... the kind of calm that came right before something snapped.

"I don't want to hear anything about my wife," he continued, "not from you... or anyone else."

Heavy silence fell between them.

Because Emad knew that tone.

And he knew better than to push it further.

After a moment, he exhaled again, quieter this time.

"...Fine," he said reluctantly. "I'll pick her up."

Yahzaan didn't thank him.

He didn't need to.

"Seven sharp," he reminded him. "Don't be late."

The call ended.

And for a few

seconds, Yahzaan just sat there, staring at his phone.

The smirk returned.

Because everything was falling into place.

Exactly the way he wanted.

____________________

End of the chapter🤍

Thank you for reading ✨

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