Ayra felt even more infuriated at his nonchalant attitude like he wasn't even a little bit affected by her threat.
She pointed a finger at him and was about to make another offensive remark when she realized that they were still at the lobby and they were beginning to attract the attention of people passing by, especially that nosy receptionist who was staring at them keenly. Gritting her teeth in anger, she dropped her finger. It would do no good to argue with this scoundrel in public. "Follow me," She turned around and left the place with him following closely.**** "Here," Ayra opened the door of an office that had a sign board 'DAHLIA FAEZ' written in bold, golden letters with stars adorning it. "I assume you will get bored when she doesn't show up and leave this place," Ayra stepped aside for him to enter. As she was leaving, she warned him,"Don't touch anything! The smallest object in this office is worth the price of the entire collection of your clothes." With that, she slammed the door and left. Zayn chuckled and sat down on a sofa. The assistant wasn't really lying earlier when she mentioned that Dahlia's table is filled with so many accessories so much that his gift pales in comparison. He twirled the paper bag in his hand again as silence slowly ensued in the room. This is how it has always been. Ever since he got married to Dahlia two years ago, everyone never failed to show their dismay at the union, even the Faez family is no exception.*Ring. Ring* The crisp sound of his phone pulled him out of his reverie. He pulled out the old mobile and looked at the caller ID. He wasn't surprised to see 'Mother in-law' flashing on the screen. Seems like that meddlesome assistant ratted him out. "Hello mother—" Just as expected, his words were interrupted. "Don't call me mother! What are you doing at Dahlia's office? Do you have no shame at all!?" His mother-in-law's cold voice came through the line. "I only came to—" Interrupted once again. "Only came to what? To cause trouble for her right!? You are well aware that the paparazzi are always trailing my daughter. What if someone takes a picture of you and digs out your despicable history!? Do you want to ruin my daughter's reputation!?" She yelled angrily. "Mother relax, I came here in a uniform so if anyone were to see me, they would just assume I'm here for delivery," Zayn tried to pacify her. But his words only seemed to make her furious. "You, wretched fellow! You even dared to visit that high-end place in your dirty clothing. If you don't exit that agency right this instant, I'll make sure Dahlia divorces you this very day!" Zayn laughed,"Mother, you don't even have the authority to annul our marriage yet you are fuming. You should worry less about unnecessary things and focus on your health. You are getting old." "Are you cursing me with death!?" Mrs Faez roared, her breath coming out in quick, faint pants. "You still rely on the words of that sickly old man right? When father dies, I'll personally chase you out of our family for good!" The smile on Zayn's face disappeared. His face turned cold at her last words and his fingers rolled into a fist. He didn't even realize that he was clutching the phone so hard until it emitted a 'tut-tut' sound to indicate that she already disconnected the call. Two years ago while he was struggling with odd jobs ranging from a bagger, delivery driver, bartender, waiter, etc, he met Omar Faez. That night, he left the bar he was working at then and headed home, to the labor camp room he shared with one immigrant when he was almost assassinated. It was already so late at night and the street was deserted. He had unknowingly walked across some assassins who had obviously been sent to erase his existence from the world. At that point, he had been puzzled as to who would want him dead and why. He was only but a poor, nameless man struggling to make ends meet. He wasn't given much time to think about who sent the obviously well trained assassins because he was soon assailed and forced to fight for his life. One man against troops of skilled assassins? Who is bound to win? It had seemed like he was getting the upper hand at first but he soon realized that despite how he kept on managing to eliminate them and defend himself, they intensified. They increased in numbers. As some fell, others appeared. Seemed like whoever wanted to kill him wanted him dead at all costs. He soon began to get overpowered because of the large numbers of assassins that kept on multiplying. But at his dire moment, he was unexpectedly saved by an old man who was coincidentally passing by. Why the old man passed by at that moment, he didn't know. All he could remember was the relief he felt in his subconscious state when someone caught him as he collapsed. Waking up three days later in a splendid mansion to so many injuries on his body, he had gotten acquainted with the old man who had saved him. He remembered the aging but active man introduced himself as Omar Faez with the kindest smile he has ever seen in years. Later on, he got to know that Faez was currently one of the wealthiest families in the UAE and the man who saved him was the present head of the family. He recollects the time Omar had mentioned that he owed him a favor for saving his life. He laughed then. What could a poor man do for someone who already has it all? When Omar propositioned him to be married to one of his grand-daughters, Dahlia, he readily agreed, knowing there was no other way to repay his kind act anyway. The family of course opposed it. His parents in-laws couldn't believe that their precious daughter was arranged to be married to someone with no social influence. Even his wife, Dahlia had thrown a tantrum. She ran away from home for days until she was caught by Omar's guards and brought back home. Then Omar had threatened them that if anyone was to try in any way to deter his(Zayn) and Dahlia's marriage plans, they would be disowned from the family. That had done the trick. He just never expected that after a few months of being married to Dahlia, Omar would fall terribly ill due to a successful poisoning attempt and he would be reduced to the position of a mistreated son-in-law. People who couldn't behave rashly towards him when Omar was alive now attack whenever they can. Dahlia's attitude towards him worsened, not like it was good before. But Omar's sudden illness gave her the courage to shed all facades and behave outrageously towards him.*Ding dong* The wall clock chimed and broke the chain of thoughts in Zayn's head. He glanced at the clock and realized that he had been waiting for almost an hour and had overused the break he was given from work. Still Dahlia was nowhere to be seen. Disappointedly, he kept the small paper bag in his pocket and stood up to leave.C—lick. Zayn closed the door with a low click. He remembered to check the door to make sure it was in perfect condition and he hadn't damaged it in any way because he was certain if anything were to happen to the door, assistant Ayra would have his head in an instant. He chuckled as he thought of the ferocious expression on the assistant earlier and he turned to leave. Just as he turned around, his curious eyes caught sight of the door opposite Dahlia's office. The door was ajar. Huh, why didn't he notice this door earlier? His eyes darted upwards and he spelt out the name written on the sign board on the door -'Director Ahmed.' "Director Ahmed?" He said again, quietly. "Why do I feel like I have heard this name before?" Nope. It's not the similarity in their last names. Zayn just thought the name sounded— familiar? He thought of something, looked at the sign board again and nodded,"Now I remember. He's the same man that's been trending in the news lately." The name s
Zayn tried to check if he could fix the bike but the problem was more complex than he thought. The bike has been in that restaurant for years but that old grumpy boss of his wouldn't spare some dirhams to buy a new one. He knew what was wrong with the bike but there was no way he could repair it without a toolbox... Is there? He was left with no other option than to walk back, all the way to the restaurant while pushing the old bike. No way was he leaving it at the damned entertainment agency and having it towed away, worse still, facing the wrath of that senile boss. Just a few meters away from the entertainment agency, his phone began to ring. He unconsciously hastened his steps. "Is it my boss or perhaps my mother -in-law?" He tried to figure out the person that was calling him. "No... That's not right. Mother in-law won't call me not after I spoiled her mood. Then who could it be? Father-in-law? Nah... He's never called me once. I don't even think he has my contact info."
S—sultan?Zayn couldn't deny his fingers moved, more like shook. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him. How many years has it been since he heard that word... or this voice?Three years? Four years?"Sultan," The voice called again, breaking through the troubled train of thoughts in his head. A swoosh of breath escaped his mouth as he breathed out before answering,"Father." His eyes cautiously looked around the nearly deserted road like he was searching for someone.He heard that familiar low happy laughter from the phone before the caller spoke again,"Zayn, you unfilial child. Do you even have any ounce of love in you for my wife? You didn't even contact her once. I really misunderstood your stubbornness."A smile, a genuine one finally appeared on Zayn's face. "Father remember, you forbade me from contacting anyone in the family. Besides, your wife is my mother. She'll understand."There was another low laughter at his sharp reply, briefly followed by a question. "How have you bee
Thrown in the limelight, Zayn had no other choice but to walk forward. With a low bow, he apologized,"Sir, it's my fault this time. Don't blame Mike. I'm sorry." Mr Mikhail laughed sarcastically. "Of course, it's your fault. That's what you said the last time too. Say, do you earn more cash secretly from these deliveries? The job I employed you for is the post of a cook not a delivery boy!" No one said a word. There was a pleased smile on Noor's face. He's always hated Zayn's pretentious self-righteous behavior. Everytime the latter gets into trouble, Mike is always there to rescue him. The funniest thing is that he is Mike's new roommate not Zayn so why does Mike insist on showing more compassion to Zayn than to him!? What's so good about Zayn anyway that even Mr Mikhail who's usually grumpy isn't too strict with him? Let's see how he'll get out of this mess this time. "I remember the last time this happened, I said something," Mr Mikhail looked at them. The staff exchang
"Yes. Friends are supposed to help each other not destroy one another. Why didn't he own up earlier when the boss asked?" Another chimed in. Zayn snickered quietly. Were they deaf when Mike claimed to be responsible for the offense earlier? To think of it, it was Mike that spoke first earlier. No one forced him to speak. Why does it suddenly feel like this Mike in person is a hypocrite!? "It's only fair for Zayn to give his own share of the monthly salary to Mike as compensation," Someone suggested. Others including Noor nodded in agreement. Zayn couldn't help chuckling. Such counterfeit sympathetic comments from his colleagues really makes his stomach churn in disgust. He was about to refute their words when Mike suddenly came to the little circle they formed round him. "Stop blaming Zayn okay? It was my choice to make and I was indeed at fault. I do not appreciate people poking their noses in my business, especially those that speak without filter." His words stunned the s
Just then, a loud crashing sound resounded from the office and the hallway became silent. The employees exchanged a look. What just happened? The door flew open and a heavily dressed lady came out. Her face was smudged with an awful amount of makeup, simply too much make-up. She appeared to be wearing a dress that stopped just above her knee-length. Her face was red, displaying her anger. But as she walked out, she crashed into Zayn who was about to knock on the door. "Oww," She winced in pain. She had bumped into his chest and hit her head really hard so that it hurt. She looked up at Zayn. "You wretched fellow. Are you blind? Get out of my way," She pushed him with her small handbag and left. Zayn looked around when he heard some of his colleagues snickering. Mr Mikhail walked out then. He paused to see them standing in front of his office. He seemed a bit embarrassed to see that they were there and chanced to witness the little quarrel between him and his daughter... Not li
"I'm leaving."These two words hung heavily in the air. The deathly pale figure on the bed remained motionless. Zayn ended up gripping the bony hands tightly in his hands.If it were before, Omar would have been quick to give him a befitting reply. How did that hyperactive, sharp and stern old man end up in this miserable position?A frosty look appeared on Zayn's face as he thought of the reports the doctor had given him when the illness began. The doctor mentioned that Omar had been slowly poisoned...Poisoned to the extent that it was now buried deep in his veins and was extremely difficult to cure.The doctor suggested that if he ever wanted to go further for the treatment which isn't a hundred percent reassurance, Omar would have to be flown out of the country.To do that, Zayn needed a huge sum of dirhams. His hands reached out to stroke what was left of Omar's white hair as his eyes fell on the bags of medicines on the bedside drawer.He'd worked hard at the restaurant everyda
"Mister." Zayn turned to the counter when he heard the receptionist's voice. A strange look appeared on his face as he looked at her. She had this kind of creepy smile like she was planning something— sinister. Her words confirmed his thoughts. "I could clear out a space for you to spend this night but it cost just a thousand dirhams." Zayn almost laughed when he heard her voice. Did she really believe him when he said one thousand dirhams earlier? He discreetly touched his pants pocket. He could say it boldly that the money in his pocket isn't up to half a thousand dirhams. Looking at the receptionist's expectant smile, he hesitated to burst her happy bubble but in the end, he said it. It's worth confessing more than spending the night homeless. "Actually... I only have three hundred dirhams with me." Just as he expected, the receptionist's smile was gone in a second. She gave him a look of disbelief and then shrieked,"You... With such a miserable amount, you dared