Negina | ✔️

Chapter thirty-seven: "Prove it then."

I'm so sick of love songs, so tired of tears
-Ne-Yo
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{~Negina~}

"I'm sorry Mr. Dawson but I can not attend the meeting with The Malik Industries," I explain, putting down his cut of coffee on his table. This has turned into one of my many habit that I have to do every single morning.

He raises his eyes from the laptop to lick his eyes with mine, I quickly drop my stare. "And why is that?" He challengingly asks. I could sense in his tone that at the end of this conversation he'll be the one who wins.

I didn't specifically have an answer to this question. I mean, I couldn't just go up to my boss and tell him "well that's easy to answer Mr. Dawson, because the son of Yosef Malik was engaged to me, but then he broke the engagement off, raped me, got me pregnant, and found another girl that he's probably happy with right now and has many fucking kids. But I don't expect you to understand the concept of Muslims getting married, so this is the best explanation I could give."

Or could I?

No. It's too much information being given out.

"I have personal reasons," I mumble, hopelessly.

He sighs, "take a seat Negina. We've got a lot to talk about."

I recoil, "I-uh... no we do not, Mr. Dawson."

He steely looks up at me, "I said sit down."

And I automatically do.

"Now, please explain to me, why you can not attend any meetings while we are working with the Malik Industries?" He asks again.

I sigh, unknowingly. Well what now. Do I tell him? Do I lie my way out of this situation?

"It's nothing. Never mind, I'll be at the next meeting," I huff, in annoyance.

"Alright," he says, and immediately starts typing away on his MacBook again. I exhale my breath when I standing up and start to walk out of his office.

He looks up again, "I'm glad you changed your mind because I have some news for you,"

I immediately stop and turn around. "Excuse me?" I ask.

"I'd like you to know that from this day on, you will be the president of The Malik Industries."

I freeze and feel myself get dizzy and I place my hand flatly on the door. Holy Shit! Me? President of Malik Industries?!

I quickly answer, "I couldn't take up that offer Mr. Dawson."

He chucked, "good, because that, Ms. Hassan, was not an offer."

"Sign these." He says holding up a pen. I hesitate, "Ms. Hassan? I asked you to sign these."

I sigh sharply. I feel a pain of guilt rise up in me. I take the pen in my shaking hand and sighs my name neatly in the provided space. It stays in my stomach for the rest of that day.

What did I just do? I ask myself.

But my heart refuses to except it. There is a part of me, deep inside of me. Very deep inside of me. That tells me, and is trying to convince me that this contract with the Malik Industries, isn't just a coincidence. Maktub, it is meant to be.

[-Saiid-]

I stare at the blank lined paper in front of me with the title, 'Menstrual Cycle' and two names labeled at the right hand corner. 'Saiid Hasan And Raihana Malik.