Today, he could say that he was beyond exhausted. Whenever he carried out an operation like this, all his limbs went weak even though he had never shown. He wanted to come back early, bathe, cool down his soul around the pool and later on sleep if he can. But as he swerved the steering wheel towards the path that lead him home, his phone rang.
"Good evening, Ummah." He greeted, silently praying not hear that voice, authoritative voice of Hajia Hadiza Maiturare, because it would surely add up to his exhaustion.
From the way her voice sounded, she was in a good mood, "Come home, Al-mustapha, now." She said, and he dared not argue. His uniform were itching every part of his body, and he wished he could take an excuse to go home and take them off. But who was he kidding? Even though she sounded like the Ummah he haven't heard for long, she could easily flip back to Mama Fulani.
"I'm on my way, Ummah." He said and she ended the call without anything more. If it was someone that was ending his call as rudely as Ummah always did to him, whoever that person was, would never go scotfree like she always did. He hated it with passion, but it got to the point that he was now used to it only when it came from Ummah.
He drove silently to the palace and ignored the looked, greetings and everything thrown at him. He entered directly to her private living room as directed by the Jakadiya; Ummah's head of maids. He met her seated on her chair as usual but she was in a good mood, he noticed when he looked closely at her face.
He sat down beside her on the carpet and greeted her, "Good evening, Ummah. I'm here."
She placed her hands on his head and fondled his hair lovingly, the moment she did that, Al-mustapha knew something good had happened. Good enough to change his life to its betterment. "Congratulations, Al-mustapha, I can see you're from work right?"
He nodded his head at her and answered with a faint yes. "So I'll make it sharp then. Yesterday we had a chat with Sultan and he told me about his health condition that kept deteriorating and he wanted to sit back from the seat of the caliphate to take care of his health more. He asked for my advice on who to be his successor, even though we both you you're the one. Considering you're the only son of the late Sultan of Sokoto, only you is fit for the throne. And today, a few minutes ago, he sent me a message through Jakadiya that he would discuss the issue with other heads of the Royal palace at the family gathering tomorrow."
He didn't know why he felt an euphoria of happiness and a pang of fear, something he hadn't felt for long. All his life, ever since he came back to live in the palace, Ummah's one and only dream had always been for him to be the successor of the throne that was his. The throne his father died and left only him on. And today, as he saw that her dream getting to the point of fulfilling, he couldn't help but be happy, for once he knew someone deserved something good. His Ummah deserved to see this come true, she deserved happiness after the pain she had went through.
"I don't know what to say, Ummah. What should I do, then? How should I act?" In whatever he do, especially matters pertaining the palace, he made sure he always asked Ummah, because there had been a concrete rule she laid for him, 'Don't ever let them know who you are, or rather; who they had turned you into, okay?' And he had lived up to that rule for all the years he had lived in the palace. Hopefully, forever.
Sometimes he wondered how she knew so much about royalty that he could never think of knowing. And then it struck him, she had been in the royal bloodline even before she was born, she knew everything, even the darkest secrets hidden depths under the earth. She told him what to do and what not, what to say and what he dared not utter. How he should act, greet, his facial expression. How he could discreetly read other people's facial expression without giving himself off. And what was said last and stressed was; don't ever let them know who you are, or rather, who they had turned you into, okay?
That warning always went away with an "Sure, okay, Ummah." And today wasn't an exception. He excused himself after all the lectures was done and drove directly back home.
Today, he recalled that Jannah was still in the house and she deserved to know what had happened to her father. And when he called Abida to summon her for him, she told him that they went out together with Fatima Zarah. The first thought that came to his mind was; Fatima Zarah had finally taken Jannah out of the house as she had always claimed to, and he felt rage brewing in his heart.
He went into his chamber, had his bathe and asked one of the maids to bring out his lunch, or dinner? But it wasn't time for dinner yet-to the pool side. That way he could see when Fatima Zarah came back home and she would know the kind of game she had played with him wasn't the one she should play with someone like Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido.
He sat there silently as he ate his meal and his eyes wandered to the gate from time to time. It was getting to maghrib when she drove into the house and he looked intently into the car but there was no sign of Jannah in it. What the freaking hell?! He asked himself and waited until she parked and entered the house before followed her into her chamber.
She had entered her room, took off her veil and headgear off and she was taking off her jewelries when he entered and forcefully yanked her hand off her neck, abruptly turning her to face him. "What the hell did you just do, Fatima Zarah?!" He roared, and even though she could see how his eyes were blinded with rage, she shrugged off her hand from him, recalling what he did to her yesterday night.
She stood in front of him, hands at akimbo before she spoke, "Do you realize that you have no right whatsoever at touching the way you and everytime you feel like? And if you have a question you can properly ask without barking like a dog because you aren't talking with one?" She wasn't able to close her lips when a sounding slap landed on her right cheek and her heart had never abruptly stopped beating for some seconds like it did today.
"You...just...slapped me, Al-mustapha?!" She couldn't and would never believe them. And instead of guilt to wash over his face right after he slapped her, she saw nothing, just that his rage increased and there was something like satisfaction on his face. May be he had been longing to do that, who knew this was his way of showing her he was superior than her and he would win the game right at this moment if he wanted to?
"I did, and one more improper word from you, you'll know the kind of person you're dealing with. You've always said that I'm hiding under the darkness of my khaki but I'm not anyone when I'm no one in my royal thobe, right? That I could only speak in the presence of my seargents only, I urge you to tell me where you've taken that girl to, else you'll see who Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido is, without everything you made mention of!"
She looked at him for more than five minutes, her heart beating widely and her hands shaking, wanting her to slap him back, but she knew she couldn't. Not because she was certain he was stronger than her, or because she was afraid of the stench of his cell because she knew he can lock her up there for more than a week if he wished, or because she didn't trust herself enough that she could slap him back. No. She couldn't slap him back because she didn't want the rage of Allah to befall on her. Allah didn't care about their game or whatsoever. All that mattered to Him was they were married and she would be severely punished if she did that.
She clenched her fist and blinked her eyes, positioning herself in front of him while pulling up a poker face. "I'm not sure wether there is a part of you, a dirty part of you that I haven't seen yet. But if you feel like you have something more filthy and dirty than I've seen, showcase it to me please. About Jannah, wait until in a few hours, and if she haven't returned, you can kill me like you killed Lily, or just drive on me like you did to Lucy, or you can throw me to a throng of dogs so they could rip me off to peices. You can even strangle me to death, that would be much easier and less stressfull. But know this, I won't sue you because of this slap, but wallahi you will regret this, wholly."
She spat the words out as angry as Fatima Zarah had never been in her life. She flashed him a disgusted look filled with hatred to the brim before she walked to the bathroom, not flashing another glance. She hadn't made her mind up about her revelation before, but now she did. And just like she swore he would regret it, she was sure even his mother will regret not bringing him up the right way. Being a psycopath was different from lacking home training.
She wanted to call Jamila and ask her to make someone bring Jannah back home. Because when she went to Jamila's house, all the girls were getting ready for a surprised dinner planned by the brides family and Hannah begged her to leave Jannah with them, the moment it was over she would bring her back home with their driver. And she agreed, seeing how Jannah was ecstatic, it was evident she never been to a gathering like this before.
She took her bath with her heart brewing with so much pain and anger that it nearly suffocated her. She prayed and asked Allah's forgiveness for raising her voice at her husband even though that would not stop her from doing so when next he angered her. Because he had this ability of knowing just the right nerve to hit, and it always hit hard. She called the maid and asked her to bring her dinner to her room, she couldn't go out and risk the chance of seeing him, by Allah she knew the rate at which she would be able to hold herself back was thin.
"When Jannah comes back, make sure she calls me with your phone please, Abida." She informed after she was being served Abida nodded her head obediently at Fatima Zarah before she walked out of the room.
She was still in her room thinking of the ways to avenge of him, make him regret like she promised him. And then she recalled, a perfect chance of getting back at him, to hurt him with even much intensity he hurt her with, and she smiled truimphantly to herself. Her phone shrilled on her bed and she rejected the call seeing it was Abida and dialled back right after. Jannah greeted her and she answered with a smile.
"Hope you had fun with your new friend, Jannah?"
"Yes, Aunty. She even told me that she'll come tomorrow to take me for walima." The timing wouldn't have been more perfect than this, Fatima Zarah mused to herself and smiled widely right after.
Our little gift on okadabooks has ranked No 1 on the trending list y'all🥰 Insha Allah before the week ends I'll upload the complete book on both okadabooks and selar 🥰
Meanwhile, you can still go and purchase the first half, not something you can miss!