Chapter

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Chapter 1— When did it all change.

Inaya Edwards POV

My legs jumped with anxiousness, and my fingers twisted the not-so-tight silver platinum ring.

"That is a fifty thousand dollar ring. You understand what that implies." My worried mother's voice managed to sneer and scare the wits out of me. Other family members were present. They believe I did something to her. To my fiancé, as she was not answering the phone. We are slated to marry in five months, and my mother has to make sure the bags of cash are secured. When I said "secured," I meant be Karib's little plaything, until I dressed in white and marched down the aisle.

But I didn't want to be Karib's little play thing.

I love Karib. I love her so much. But when my mother, and by extension, the entire money-hungry family, discovered that I was marrying a millionaire, they simply couldn't let me ruin it, as they claimed. They couldn't let me live the life I wanted with Karib, and it felt more like an arrangement than genuine love.

"What went on during the vacation?"

My salty tear-tainted lips were moistened by a hot thrust from my tongue. I felt tortured by my family because I, too, had no idea what had transpired during Kabir and I's vacation. We were quite delighted. We laughed. We danced. We fucked a lot.

We never argued. Yet when I returned, she ignored my calls. All two hundred and fifty-two of them.

"You pushed her away, didn't you?" My mother, with liquor-tainted breath, shouted at me. I flinched away from her.

"Calm down, Suma. Perhaps she simply needs space." Auntie Carma spoke. Everyone's stomach was in knots because of the money Kabir had promised the family.

My family had no traditions, but once money was involved, they became very cultured.

"75 million dollars will go to the family." Kabir murmured, holding my hand tenderly.

I remember her telling me. I love you, Inaya, even if I have to buy you, to get you I will. To me, it seemed romantic that she would go to any extent to keep me in her arms as her wife for years to come.

"Look, she pushed her away. She seems proud." My mother's crazed voice appeared again. "Mighty and proud."

With dried tears on my cheeks and worried thoughts, nothing about me exuded pride. I didn't push Kabir away. We returned 2 days ago, and she kissed me with such passion and love. Who would have guessed she would never answer one of my calls?

It was just her not returning a call.

What was the big deal? I knew where she lived, she doesn't have to be breathing down my back all the time. But she has never failed to answer a phone call, even after three days.

"So many millions on the line, Inaya." My mother let out a roar. I flinched in my seat again. All I could do was gaze at the engagement ring. We got engaged barely two months ago. Karib proposed to me before we'd even been dating for a year. But I love her, and there was no need to take any precautions. Nothing.

"What happened?" She asked for millions of times. I eventually lift my head looking at the woman who gave birth to me. The woman who reared me till the age of twenty five.

The woman who made my life a living misery if I included her in whatever I dabbled in. But she was my mother; how could I not tell her about my life? No matter what, I can't dislike my mother. It was not my intention to resent the lady who gave birth to me. Which sort of girl would I be. What kind of daughter would I be.

But just because mom grew me, fed me, clothed me, and sheltered me doesn't mean she was the greatest to me.

"There are just five months left, and you are already a lousy wife." That would make both of us.

"Didn't you go check on her?" Did she ever check on Dad before he chose to shoot himself in the head with a shotgun?

"All she needs is some space..."

"Love does not need space." She scoffed viciously. "Do you know how much money is on the line? How much!" She shouted.

Fatima, my sister, wrapped her olive-colored arms around me. She was a deeper tint than me. And, despite her comfort, it was phony. She adored how my life had devolved into shambles in only two days.

I smiled and patted her hand. "I'll be okay." Her lips were near my ears, and she chuckled darkly. I could hear every vibration of her blackness.

"It'll never be okay."

I swallowed my spit as I quickly stood up. "I need to go." I muttered.

"You're a coward. You sit back down. What are you going to hide behind your mansion wall while we all stay here and suffer?"

I'll do just that. I'll hide until Kabir is ready to come back. Because I did not say yes to the money, I said yes to her. Regarding her excellent attitude. To the woman who made me feel significant. To the woman I genuinely cherish.

"I will figure something out." I whispered. I never argued with my mother or anybody else. I was actually a coward.

"If you don't contact her within the next two fucking weeks... She strutted closer to me. "We will fucking murder you!"

I swiftly pushed by her; her threats were not in vain, I knew. Just two years ago, she pursued me around the house with a knife, shrieking at the top of her lungs that I was wasting my future.

************

I ran to the phone as soon as I walked in. The coziness of my house, well, the engagement present that Karib gave me, was now my home. I had no idea a two-bedroom bungalow house would come in useful when I was in a complete panic.

Where the hell did Kabir and I go wrong?

I was attempting to retrace my steps. Something must have gone wrong that I did not observe. How could I see when I was delighted with her? But, was she pleased with me? I snickered; why would I think such a thing? If she didn't perceive something special in me, she wouldn't go down on her knees and propose. Or was everything simply for show? Is she developing cold feet before we even begin any preparation?

Everything was happening so fast. Because if I didn't contact her within two weeks, I knew the engagement, wedding, love, and everything would be off.

But its just been two days. I need to stop being so dramatic

I pressed the voicemail button, expecting to obtain at least a voice recording from her. I couldn't exhibit my worry in front of my family because I suspected I'd done something to Karib.

I grabbed for the landline phone and dialed her number, which was already on quick dial.

253. Since two days, I've called her 253 times. She must be annoyed. The phone rang to voicemail, and I was surprised to see that it wasn't full despite all of the voice messages I'd left. She was either emptying them out, or the income box can store that much. But nothing in this world can persuade me that Karib wasn't staring at the phone.

"Hey, I've phoned a hundred times before. I just want to know whether you're okay. I have not heard from you in three days. When you receive this message, please call me back.

I pull out my phone and dial her number again. It went to voicemail again.

"Hey, maybe I did something wrong. I'm terribly sorry, Karib. Just...call me. My family is likewise worried about you. You may simply show up and..." I groaned and ended the voice messages.

I did not want to walk up unannounced at her workplace or her home. But if my family rushes at me again, I won't have a choice.



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