Finding Yasmine

Chapter 27

Aidan Hussein's POV

The  sun rays pierced through the ceiling to floor glass windows while the golden beams bounced off my MacBook Pro into the crest of skyscrapers, the troughs of industrial caliphates and vast skyline of Ikeja. The hustle, bustle, traffic jams and blaring horns brought me a sense of familiarity and comfort that the streets of Newcastle couldn't bring.

This was home.

I breathed in the air, the scent of signed contacts, and opportunity mixed and clung to the air like the oxygen that flowed through my veins, my elixir of life and there she was, framed and interwoven in my mind's eye. She flowed into my mind like the beauty of a painting that grabbed the attention of whosoever dared to look.

I was mesmerized beyond words and comprehension from her picture, just her picture. The absurdity and stupidity of it all registered in my mind as anger burned through the thick jungle of my memory so scalding hot I felt my fingertips tingle from the heat.

My Calvin Klein Oxfords tapped impatiently on the polished wooden floors. The brown mirror reflected my fury as a pool of range swam in my eyes while I inspected the expanse of my office.

This situation was a sick, twisted tale of Romeo and Juliet, a tragedy that guaranteed the destruction of both parties, plus the toxic, infamous role my father played in this perverted analogy of love. It definitely had a hand in his untimely demise. Now I was trapped in this maze of uncertainty, unsure if the same predicament will be my end.

" Sir?" Nisei my secretary called from a crack between the double French door,breaking my painful train of thoughts.

" I brought you your coffee," she coaxed pushing the door open before I rose my head and my eye balls almost rolled to the floor.

The shy university undergraduate I employed wasn't here, she was replaced with this raw, unfiltered definition of a professional stripper. The dress she wore left nothing to the imagination, it hugged her curves in the wrong way and I wondered just how swollen her head must be from all the haram ( bad) attention she had gotten this morning.
She wasn't going to feed off my masculinity or the charred remains of my ego.

" Did I ask you to come in?" I asked, my voice void of emotion and thick with unquestionable irritation.
The shock and apprehension that washed her features was enough evidence that she was shaken by my aura but I pressed on.

" Sir, you- I-I," she stammered inaudibly before I slammed my fists on the black sycamore desk dragging her from the stammering spree she was on.

" DID I ASK YOU TO COME IN NISEI?" I asked slower so her deficient brain could register my words.

" No Sir," she squeaked, shaking her head and shivering on the spot like a cat caught in the cold waters .

" Get out," I whispered at her frozen frame. It was loud enough for angels in the heavenly abode to grasp but apparently not loud enough for her.

" Get out!!!!" I shouted as she flinched and moved back swiftly, running to the doors like her life depended on it.

Her life might be hers but her job definitely depended on it.