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•Bashir

Just like my father, I would become a fugitive if I murdered Jameel.

But he's not giving me any choice. He kidnapped the woman whom I had deceived myself to believe was just a friend but deep down my chest was brewing spells love couldn't contain.

I believed she was a friend. I believe she was a sister. I believed she was the messiah that would bring me out of my pretentious, unfortunate life.

Of all the women I've met she's the first to figure out my motives and call me out for it. She knew I was only after her name and wealth and after that we became friends but my friendship was begging in the shadows to be granted a flash of green light to extend a flag of my hearts nation to her.

She even exposed her true intentions of being with me for the flash and that only made me want her even without the riches. She understood me even if all we wanted in this life was to live our lives to the fullest even if we had to step on a few people to get there. What was wrong with that?

A ruthless businessman for a jaunty woman of class. We could've been the perfect bunch if she didn't get kidnapped by Jameel; someone I considered a brother even if I couldn't fully trust him yet.

*Ring *Ring

The alarm I set on my phone caused an eruption on the drawers beside my bed. The bed side table shook and my head hurt from the sound being too loud for me to bear.

I hissed and got up angrily, grabbed a towel that hung from an open drawer and dashed into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and stripped to take a bath.

While in the shower I remembered what went down between me and Inteesar. Shame and the cold of the shower hit my back and I instantly regret everything I said.

I would blame it on the Colorado a friend offered me yesterday. He came to visit and found me in a bad mood right after Jameel called me to join Inteesar to the hospital.

If I was being honest I had no intention of following her but I said yes to please Jameel and it seems she hadn't told him I could possibly be the father because he was still being as nice as ever and recently, a bit shady with his actions.

Yesterday was exhilarating. Two drags and I was on the floor of my room. He gave me five sticks and half way through the third stick Inteesar called and I mistakenly answered but couldn't let her know what I was doing so I lied.

Night fell and I made things worse by calling her. As if I cared. As if this child was really mine. As if I would marry her if this baby was our child.

Nonetheless I had to get on with my shower and clean up my room and remember to never accept anything Naseer offered me to help me get over stress.

I came out in time and rid the floor of my clothes, the empty cigarette pack it came in and   food wrappers I had no idea how they got there layed.

Jameel called while I was in the shower and sent a message right after to which I hissed and threw the phone on the bed, continued vacuuming till the floor was spotless.

Breakfast has never been a meal I considered important since from childhood. I'd missed it almost a thousand times because I wasn't privileged to eat a full plate with shredded potatoes, sauce or ketchup by the break of dawn or before going to school.

At this point I feel it should be removed from the meal roster. Oh well, that's not my business since I didn't need it. Those who needed it could have it.

I ignored the rumbling of my belly and snatched the keys from the bed and my phone and headed down the stairs.

Outside, I met the driver washing the car so I chose to take an Uber instead of waiting. This meeting was crucial.

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