Fatima thought life after Stanford would be hers to enjoy, until she's forced into an arranged marriage to save her family's legacy.
Zayn Caruso is everything she vowed to avoid: arrogant, ruthless, and the heir to a dangerous mafia empire. A billio...
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"No, no, no. Let me go. Please don't kill me."
I paused the footage when I heard a screaming. I was in my study checking out the CCTV footage, watching out what happened earlier and how Fatima killed those intruders all on her own. I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it, I did in fact I loved it. The way she handled the gun how she aimed and never missed. It was a sight for sore re eyes. I was impressed, beyond impressed. She was good in fact she was amazing.
"No please..." Hearing the screaming voice again I came back to my senses that it was Fatima. I immediately got out of my office, going to my room. I found her moving and sweating, screaming in the process or rather crying, begging for help. She was having nightmares. I shook her up, waking her.
"Fatima!" I started. "Fatima, wake up! Wake up." I shook her roughly and she quickly woke up, screaming and sweating.
"He...he..."She started.
"It's okay..." I pulled her in my arms and she held me tighter, sobbing.
"He was going to kill me." She said, heaving.
"It was just a bad dream, nothing is going to happen to you. It's just a nightmare."
"He was..."
"Hey, look at me. You are safe, no one is going to hurt you. I promise you that okay?" I assured her and she nodded still nervous and scared.
"Go back to sleep." I said.
"You won't leave me right?" She asked. I didn't want to be there at that moment, I wanted to find out about those intruders and make a few calls to find their superior then I would kill whoever was in charge for causing chaos in my fucking house. But Fatima was fragile and scared at the moment and leaving her in that state was no a good idea so I decided to stay.
"No I won't leave you. Go back to sleep. We'll talk in the morning." I told her and she nodded, getting under covers.
As she lay down, I let my fingers stroke her hair, I don't know why but I just felt like doing so. I couldn't control myself and to be quite honest I felt bad for her. She wasn't used to this lifestyle and killing people was a big deal. She slowly fell asleep while I continued stroking her hair. It was soft, smooth and silky. It had a nice feel to it. It smelled good, it smelled like cinnamon. I couldn't stop thinking of how sexy she looked in my shirt, there was a slight reacting in my pants when I saw her, her legs were perfectly exposed, her visible breasts were evident because she wasn't wearing a bra, her hair that cascaded loosely above her shoulders, revealing her gorgeous face. She was truly beautiful. I wanted to wake her up and ravish her that very moon. I didn't like her but I was still a man and I was allowed to admire God's perfect creation... Right? Fatima was that perfect creation, no doubt there.
.
Woke up the following day around six AM. Fatima was still fast asleep. Funny part was that I cuddled her, I wasn't a cuddling type. My arm was wrapped tight around her, she was facing me, her head buried on my chest, her legs between my mine. It was a beautiful sight but only for love birds and I wanted none of that. I got up from the bed. I went to my bathroom and brushed my teeth and washed my face. Coming back I put on my jeans and a vest then went downstairs to the kitchen. I checked inside the cupboard for something to make for breakfast. I found my ingredients and started getting busy. I knew how to cook food, any kind of food, Fiona taught me. After a while Fatima walked in still in my shirt. I would be lying if I said I didn't like that, I loved it in fact I was turned on. Such a tease. She looked better than when I found her last night and when she had that nightmare. She looked more relaxed. She took a seat on the high chair and elbowed the counter, cupping her face in her palms.
