Chapter 1
Hafsat stepped out of the conference room in Deliema, her eyes brimming with tears. She felt trapped in the most difficult predicament of her life. The weight of the board members' orders hung heavy on her shoulders.
As she wiped away her tears, Hafsat couldn't help but wonder: Could she really do what they asked of her, just to maintain her family's property? Her mind racing, she struggled to come to terms with the impossible choice before her.
At just 23 years old, Hafsat had already faced more challenges than most people encounter in a lifetime. As the owner of Spectra Style Co., a company she had inherited from her parents, she had shouldered the burden of responsibility from a tender age.
Tragedy had struck when Hafsat was just 17, claiming the lives of her parents only two years after they had established the company. Undaunted, Hafsat had taken the reins of Spectra Style Co. at the age of 18, pouring her heart and soul into the business.
Despite facing numerous obstacles and setbacks, Hafsat had worked tirelessly to grow and maintain her parents' legacy. She wondered if she had the strength to make the sacrifices required to preserve her family's property.
The board members had presented Hafsat with an ultimatum: get married before 8 am tomorrow or step down as CEO of the company. This demand came at a time when Hafsat's business was on the brink of collapse.
Rumors had been circulating that the company's growth was not due to Hafsat's hard work, but rather her connections with powerful men. People claimed that she had sold her soul to these men, and that was the reason for her success. However, the truth was that Hafsat's accomplishments were solely the result of her dedication and perseverance.
Despite her best efforts to clear her name and restore her reputation, nothing seemed to work. The board members, eager to put an end to the controversy, had given Hafsat two options: marry before tomorrow or relinquish her position to someone else.
Hafsat's strict nature, power, and potential had always intimidated potential suitors, leaving her with few serious proposals. Now, as she stood before Abdulmalik's door, she hesitated. She had intended to knock and seek his help, but memories of his bad behavior made her question her decision.
Just as she turned to leave, Hafsat remembered the sacrifices her parents had made to build the company. She recalled the promises she had made to them, vowing to protect and care for the business as long as she lived. With newfound determination, Hafsat steeled herself to face Abdulmalik, leaving her fate in Allah's hands.
As Hafsat opened the door, she was met with a familiar scene: Abdulmalik a 32 years old bachelor surrounded by six girls, chatting and laughing together in his office. Some were seated, while others stood, all vying for his attention.
This was the primary reason Hafsat had always kept him at arm's length. Despite his arrival at the organization three months ago, she had never given him a chance. Almost every female colleague had a crush on him, drawn to his attractive appearance, tall stature, and apparent wealth. Hafsat often wondered if he had a side business, given his lavish lifestyle.
The ladies would frequently visit his office, claiming they needed guidance on work-related tasks. Abdulmalik would welcome them with open arms, entertaining their advances. Despite his questionable behavior, he would still visit Hafsat every day, professing his desire to marry her. This had become a routine she had grown all too familiar with.
Hafsat's voice echoed through the room as she yelled, "What are you all doing here? Don't you have work to do?"
The girls panicked, scrambling to come up with excuses for their presence. "Oh, sorry ma'am!" "Oh, I was just looking for my graph!" Some hastily gathered their materials, including graphs, fabric samples, and other work-related items they often used as a pretext to meet Abdulmalik.
As the girls filed out of the office, Hafsat stepped aside, allowing them to pass. Once they were gone, she closed the door behind them and turned to face Abdulmalik.
Abdulmalik, seemingly unfazed by the commotion, had crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. He rested his hands behind his head, a picture of nonchalance.
A sly smile crept onto Abdulmalik's face as he gazed at Hafsat. "How was your meeting?" he asked, his tone flirtatious. "I haven't seen you all day, Queen of Hearts."
Hafsat tried to brush off his advances, her mind preoccupied with more pressing concerns. "I need your help, Abdulmalik," she said, her tone straightforward.
Abdulmalik's expression changed, and he sat up straight, intrigued. "You need my help?" he repeated.
Hafsat nodded. "Yes."
Abdulmalik's smile returned, and he leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers. "Just say the word, Queen, and it shall be done," he said, his tone dripping with flirtation.
Abdulmalik's eyes widened in shock as Hafsat asked, "Abdulmalik, will you marry me?"
He couldn't believe his ears. The proud and egoistic Hafsat, who had always kept him at arm's length, was now asking him to marry her. Abdulmalik had been aware of the discussions in the meeting room, but he hadn't expected Hafsat to propose to him so directly.
"Is my Queen of Hearts asking me to marry her?" Abdulmalik joked, rising from his seat to stand beside Hafsat, who looked downward, embarrassed.
However, his demeanor quickly turned serious. "But just yesterday, you told me it would never be possible. Why the sudden change of mind?" Abdulmalik asked, his curiosity piqued.
Hafsat's response was curt and firm. "No questions, I just need your answer."
Abdulmalik's dramatic stumble backward in surprise annoyed Hafsat. "Okay, fine," he said, attempting to regain his composure as he adjusted his shirt.
"But you have to say please," Abdulmalik joked, trying to provoke the egoistic Hafsat further.
Hafsat's response was icy. "If you won't, then I'll find someone else." She turned to leave, but Abdulmalik's next words stopped her in her tracks.
"When are we getting married?" he asked, his tone revealing his determination to seize this opportunity. He had worked hard to get to this point and wasn't about to let it slip away.
"Today. Now," Hafsat replied, her voice firm.
Abdulmalik nodded. "Okay."
However, Hafsat added a condition. "But on one condition."
Abdulmalik's curiosity was piqued. "What is the condition?" he asked.
Hafsat's response was straightforward. "We'll be setting rules and regulations that you'll need to follow in our marriage."
Abdulmalik's only response was a thoughtful "Hmm."
Abdulmalik raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement on his face. "Would I be the husband or the wife in this marriage?" he asked Hafsat, his tone laced with sarcasm.
Hafsat's expression remained stern. "Ask me again," she said, her voice firm.
Without another word, Hafsat turned and walked away, leaving Abdulmalik to follow behind her.
______
By 1 pm that afternoon, Abdulmalik Abdullahi and Hafsat Abbas were married at the mosque. They had chosen this location due to the absence of a wali (guardian) for both of them, as Abdulmalik had claimed. Hafsat had also arranged for her lawyer to formalize the marriage.
As Hafsat approached her car, Abdulmalik stepped forward to open the door for her. "Careful, wifey," he joked, earning a glare from Hafsat as she slid into the driver's seat.
"You'd better get in, or I'll leave without you," Hafsat ordered, her tone firm.
Abdulmalik hastily took his seat beside her. "This woman loves giving orders," he thought to himself.
"Now what's next?" Abdulmalik asked Hafsat, his curiosity piqued.
"We're going to my house," Hafsat stated. "But first, I'll drop you off at your place to pack your clothes. I'd prefer it if you stayed at my house."
"Okay, dear," Abdulmalik replied.
Hafsat asked, "What's your location?" Abdulmalik hesitated for a moment before providing the address. He guided Hafsat to his house, and when they arrived, Hafsat asked, "You mean this is the place?" looking at the house with a hint of surprise.
Abdulmalik nodded. "Yes, this is it."
Hafsat said, "Okay, I'll wait here while you pack your clothes. If it takes too long, I'll just come back to pick you up later."
"No, don't wait for me, or come back," Abdulmalik said. "I'll come to your house on my own."
Hafsat raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You don't know my house's location."
Abdulmalik smiled. "I do. Almost everyone in this state knows your location."
Hafsat nodded, seeming a bit hesitant. "Okay, no problem."
With that, she drove away. Abdulmalik waited until her car vanished from sight before crossing the road. He turned a corner and headed straight to his family residence.
Abdulmalik was the brother of the notorious Abusufyan Abdullahi Hussein and Ismael Abdullahi Hussein. The siblings were infamous for their extreme wealth, vast fortunes, and arrogance. Nobody dared to double-cross them and get away with it.
Abdulmalik's employment at Spectra Style Co. was merely a ruse, a means to an end.
As he approached the gate, the gateman's eyes widened in surprise. "Sir, you're the one," he stuttered.
The gateman was unaccustomed to seeing Abdulmalik alone, without an entourage or a luxurious vehicle.
Abdulmalik noticed the gateman's curious gaze. "Is this the work you were hired to do?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.
The gateman panicked, "No, sorry sir."
Abdulmalik's expression turned serious. "Are my brothers around?" he asked.
The gateman nodded, his eyes cast downward in fear. "Yes, sir. They're at home."
Abdulmalik headed straight to their workspace, a room that served as their usual meeting point for discussions whenever they were at home.
As soon as he entered, his brothers' faces lit up with smiles.
"Speaking of the devil," Ismael joked, a playful glint in his eye. At 34, Ismael was two years older than Abdulmalik and three years younger than their eldest brother, Abusufyan, who was 37.
Abusufyan, the eldest, offered his congratulations. "We received your message. Congratulations, brother – you're married."
"Yes, I've done as you wished," Abdulmalik said. "I've married Hafsat Abbas. Now what?" he added, his tone hinting at resignation.
Ismael chuckled. "We know you didn't want this marriage."
Abdulmalik nodded in agreement. "Yes, I didn't, because I hate commitment. This marriage will only reduce my freedom. I only agreed to it because it's Hafsat."
Abusufyan's curiosity was piqued. "What do you mean by 'because it's Hafsat' hope you have no feelings for her?"
Abdulmalik's gaze locked onto his brothers', a sly grin spreading across his face. "Like her, nope not even alittle bit, I just like being closed to pretty women, and Hafsat is the most prettiest of them all."
Ismael and Abdulmalik exchanged a knowing smile, their eyes sparkling with amusement.
Abusufyan handed Abdulmalik a stack of papers. "I need you to build trust with Hafsat, no matter what it takes. And I need her signature on these papers."
Abusufyan's brothers, Ismael and Abdulmalik, were notorious for their womanizing ways. However, Abusufyan, the most arrogant of the trio, had never been concerned with women. At 37, he remained unmarried, unlike Ismael, who was married and seeking to add another wife, and Abdulmalik, who was always surrounded by girls.
Abdulmalik scanned the papers, his expression unchanging. "Hmm, the woman is very rude. Tolerating her is a chore, let alone building trust with her."
He had seen the papers before, and he knew his brother's intentions. Abusufyan had orchestrated Abdulmalik's job at Hafsat's office, making him to get close to her solely to obtain her signature on those papers.
Ismael attempted to convince Abdulmalik, as he often did. "We know you can do it, you're the smartest and most patient of us all."
Abdulmalik relented. "Okay, fine. I'll give it a try."
Abusufyan's face lit up with gratitude. "Thank you, Abdulmalik."
Ismael, eager to celebrate, excused himself and returned with a bottle of wine and three cups. "This calls for a celebration!"
Abdulmalik declined, rising from his seat. "I'd rather not have any right now. I'll be leaving."
Abusufyan tried to persuade him to stay. "Please, just one cup."
Abdulmalik stood firm. "Maybe some other time, but not today."
Ismael joked, "Oh, I almost forgot – he can't go to his bride's house drunk!"
But Abdulmalik was already gone, leaving his brothers to their celebration.