Nailah Zayed.
Maroudi, Nigeria.
The Summit came much faster than we all anticipated. It felt like it was just the day before we were informed of it taking placeg. And now, the day is here already.
As it was planned, it was to take place in BlackAce Resort, and only the most elite in the business world across the country were invited. If I dare say, this is more exclusive than the Crowing Ceremony of the Former Sultan of Maroudi, Azeez Sunusi.
Trust me when I say this, that was an event that shook the whole country.
This is better. And I'm not just saying it because I planned and oversaw the whole thing, but because it's the truth. Anyone could tell.
Rows of lavish, and sleek cars pulled up front. The flashes of camera went haywire, wanting to catch every moment that would be put on show. I don't blame them, this is an inclusive that only a few selected individuals among the press have.
After all, we couldn't allow just anyone in as the press. We carefully went through the selection process, and I personally oversaw the whole process before picking out the very best suited for everyone that will attend.
It started half an hour ago, and most of the guests had arrived already.
It was now our turn.
Two black Mercedes pulled up front, catching the attention of the paparazzi there. Instantly Cameras flashes came from all angles, as a sleek Range Rover pulled up behind those two cars. Recognizing the owner of the car, the flashes became a lot more as everyone gobbled up to get the guests' pictures.
From where I am seated, behind the heavily tinted windows, I could still see the flashes. It was that blinding. I found myself swallowing thickly, before pressing my oxblood painted lips together to calm my nerves.
One would think I'm used to this by now. I am not.
Bulky men with the physique of a bouncers stepped out of the Mercedes all suited up—the escorts. Black shades covered their eyes from the blinding flash lights—their facial expression stoic almost as if they never get joy for life.
With swift, and dominating strides, they stretched out in calculated steps to form two lines on either side of the Range Rover, to hold back anyone that would try to get close to us.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw Imran turn around to look at me. For a second, I had forgotten about his existence like I've done for the past few days since I haven't seen much of him. Where he disappeared to and what he's been doing is none of my concerns.
He hadn't returned since that night, and I do not plan to reach out. I like the way it is.
Tonight is not about our barely existent marriage though. It was about putting up that 'perfect and loving couple' front as always. Truth be told, just the thought of pretending yet again makes me sick, but I suck it up as always.
"Are you ready?" His voice came—low, and raspy.
I lifted my head, my shoulders squaring as I turned my head around to meet his gaze. I then offered him a determined nod. "Let's get down to business."
One of the guards trudged over to the backseat of the car, and then opened the door. Almost immediately, the flashes became more blinding, if that's possible. The sight of a suit pants clad leg was the first to come in sight, before Imran stepped out in all his glory—rounding his car to come to where I am.
Extending his hand towards me, I carefully placed my hand in his and like the loving husband he's feigning to be, he helped me out of the car—his other hand moving to the small of my back to accompany the affectionate look with gentility that had everyone swooning. When I was in sight, I looked at him and offered him a smile, one filled with love and admiration.
What a joke.
He offered me a grin in return, as his fingers intertwine with mine. I hate to admit it, but Imran definitely is an attractive man. The features only seem to pop out more whenever we're playing this role of ours. However, it doesn't affect me.
At least, not anymore.
Ignoring the persistent press, we trudged down the red carpet and into the grand hall, where the event is being held. We came to a stop by the entrance, taking in the sight of the nearly filled up hall. Exchanging a look, we gave each other a curt nod.
Let the games begin.
~*~
"You two have been married for what? Two...years?"
"A year and a half." Imran responded to the woman standing in front of us, prying into our lives a little much more than I would like. Yes, I'm used to people asking questions all the time and perhaps it's because I've been a little bit on edge today, her questions are doing nothing other than annoy me. "We're five months away from making it two."
To compliment his words, I offered her a small smile when her eyes met mine. From a glance, I knew she wasn't interested in our 'happy' life whatsoever.
She and I had crossed paths before, and not in the best way might I add. Whilst trying to get her daughter to end up with the Imran Hadi, I happened to be the lucky one. Note the sarcasm. Honestly speaking, I don't know why she even bothered to begin with.
Everyone knew Imran's father and mine are good friends. Well, as far as the word 'friends' go in the business world. They are that. So, it didn't come as a surprise to anyone that the two of us ended up together.
It was almost like it's meant to be, you know. And besides, the two of us knew that we would end up together at one point—even if there were no feelings involved.
"So...when will we hear any good news?" The sound of her voice came, putting an instant halt to my thoughts.
I blinked, and looked up to meet her gaze with slightly drawn in brows. "Good news?"
She nodded, before pressing her lips together. There was a glint that passed through her eyes, an instant heads-up that told me I wouldn't like whatever she'd spew outnext. "Pregnancy, of course." She stated, like it's the most rational thing. "Isn't it about time you two consider having kids? After all, you won't stay this young forever."
There it is.
The one thing I hate the most about this whole marriage thing.
You'd be surprised to know how many people ask that very question, and each time just happens to be more annoying than the last.
'When are you having kids?'
'When will you share good news?'
"When are you planning to expand your family?' It's truly a never-ending circle of the same question being asked.
This time around, I didn't even bother to hold myself back from rolling my eyes as I looked away—no longer wanting to stare at her makeup baked face. Folding my lips in for a brief second, I hoped I'd be able to stop myself from spewing something that I won't regret later. As the hosts of the Summit, I'm supposed to make sure we go through the night peacefully.
"—Or...do you have a problem, Nailah?"
Screw peace.
What did this woman just say?
Swiveling my head around to look at her with narrowed eyes, my mouth hung open for a slight second as I fought the urge to scoff. The smirk her lips stretched into only had my eyes narrowing even more.
I held myself back from acting on impulse, and made sure to control my expression before I voiced out the words in my mind. "A problem?" I repeated, not surprised by how calm my tone came out.
Years of practice leads to that. Years.
And that practice and expertise wouldn't come crumbling because of words I get thrown at by that woman. If anything, I've expected it.
If it was anyone else with common sense, the person would've taken note of their mistake and say something else to steer the attention from what she really meant. But, this woman old enough to be my mother must've not been in the line when sense was distributed.
Because, her smirk widened, and she nodded. "Yes, a problem conceiving." She stated, with no hesitations. "Don't worry, darling. You aren't the first young lady to be barren. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You can't have all the things in life."
I said nothing for the next few seconds, and yet, I didn't move my cold gaze away from hers. I could feel Imran's hand tighten around mine slightly—already knowing what I'm going to do. It's time like this that he actually steps in, knowing my capabilities.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw him attempt to take a step in front of me and cut in before I react. However, he was a second too late.
Tightening my hold around his hand back, I beat him to it. My lips stretched into a smile slowly, and both she and I knew whatever would come past my lips will not be liked by her because I saw the way her resolve cracked slightly—anticipating the worst.
"Well, of course; it's nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you never had a child of yours too." Truth be told, I do not like exploiting people's life, nor exposing their weakness like that. But, at the same time, I have little control over myself when I'm crossed no matter who the person happens to be. "Correct me if I'm mistaken. That daughter of yours..." I feigned uncertainty, before taking a step closer to her. "...isn't she your husband's illegitimate child?"
Almost instantly, her eyes widened.
Pathetic.
She couldn't even hold up the act she'd been putting on for years. She just gave herself away because of a single statement.
I didn't stop, fully intending to shut her up for good. Clicking my tongue, my voice dropped so only the three of us could hear what I'm about to say. "—How do you think the press would react to finding that out? Your husband wants to contest for Governor, right? Having a child out of wedlock wouldn't do him any good, don't you think?"
Her hold around the champagne flute in her hand tightened, her lips pulled back. Her eyes were narrowed in slits, and I would be lying if I say I don't like the sight. Truth be told, riling people up is my favorite activity—especially when it comes to reciprocating the way I've been treated.
"Don't you dare, Nailah." She seemed to have found her voice. It's cute how she thinks the whole dropping her voice thing would work on me. I nearly laughed at the face she's holding up.
"Try me." I would not hesitate to expose him, and she knows that. What's the one reason the Zayed and Hadi family have been at the top for years?
We don't lose. No matter what.
If that means playing dirty, then so be it.
I grew up in such a world, and I am not afraid to take such measures when crossed.
She didn't say a word more. If anything, she simply shifted her glare from me, to Imran who's quietly standing beside me before huffing out a breath. Turning around on her heels, she was quick to storm away before any of her other secrets could be laid bare—and trust me, I know quite a lot.
With her gone, I blew out a small breath, my shoulders slumping slightly in the process. Looking around, I was slightly relieved to see no one noticed our small exchange. They all seemed to be too busy building relations, and strengthening their businesses.
A hand being placed on my shoulders had me looking up just in time Imran turned me around to face him. His eyes met mine, his expression blank. He didn't say a thing, just quietly observed my features. I don't know what he was looking for, but I guess he got it because he simply nodded to himself, and then looked away.
I didn't know what to think of that.
His silence is never a good thing. And no, I'm not scared for myself.
Before I could dwell on what might happen, the chatters around us increase tenfold—instantly gaining both our attentions. We both looked away just in time to see what the cause of the people's chatter is.
And behold, striding into the hall in all his glory is none other than the infamous Ayaan Fadel. I could swear that man's presence alone shook the entire hall. It was demanding, to the point that I doubt there's anyone who doesn't have his or her gaze on him. He seemed to know what kind of influence he has, because he strode in confident strides, almost as if he owns the place.
I pressed my lips together, a brow quirked slightly.
That wasn't it all—the person accompanying him was none other than the last person I wanted to see at this moment. The cause of numerous problems I have, Basma Wambai.
Kill me.