Two Brothers, One Heart

Chapter 1

Part 1

~~In her twenties🌹🥤~~

Edited by justsomerandommanal

Kaduna, September 2017

"Yaya, Abba wants you downstairs for breakfast with everybody," said the voice coming from beside the slightly open door. Firdausi's silvery tone made it clear it was her.

Islam reluctantly glanced at her and slowly got up, propping herself on the fluffy blanket.

"What if I say I don't want to eat?" she challenged.

Firdausi revealed herself, still in her pajamas from the night before. "Please, just come over, sis."

"And who said I'm your sister, brat? Just get out, I'm coming," Islam grumbled, annoyed by her half-sister who always managed to ruin her mornings.

She walked over to the mirror and saw her beautiful face looking tired. After washing her face, she trudged downstairs, where the enticing aroma of omelette and fish filled the air, making her stomach growl. She realized she was absolutely famished.

"Salamualaikum, Mama," she greeted the slim lady wearing a silk scarf around her head, who was busy in the kitchen with the servants, marinating a big fish with spices and cooking some lobster. Seafood was a favorite breakfast for the family, and that's why they ran a seafood company in Kano.

"Wa alaikumussalam, pretty. How was your night?" Mama asked, pouring the boiled potatoes into a basket in the sink.

"How are you?" another voice chimed in before Islam could even respond.

She turned and saw the handsome elderly man in the luxurious herringbone suit holding a small cup of tea at the dining table, which she pretended to ignore while approaching.

"Fine," she answered wearily and helped her mom bring the plates of omelette, avocado, baked fish, lobster, and potatoes to the dining table. The fish was placed in the middle of the table as if it was more important, because everyone in the family liked fish.

"Have you changed your mind?" asked the man as she placed the plate down.

"I don't think I want to work with you, Mr. Khalid, because I don't want to look like your gold-digging step-daughter," she declared.

"Abba," Zaynab corrected her, as she usually does about calling him Abba instead of something formal, but she never paid attention to it.

The table was finally set, and everyone settled down for breakfast, but there was little conversation.

"Why don't you come to my fashion designing company?" requested Zaynab while eating the potatoes.

"Mama, you know I don't have an interest in sewing clothes," she said, almost complaining, while struggling with the avocado.

"At least you've got one daughter who wants to model, Mama," said Firdausi cheerfully.

"No, I want you to focus on your studies," said Zaynab, while caressing her, which irritated Islam and made her lose her appetite quickly, eager to leave the room.

She kept on enduring the pain after her parents split up and her mom married a rich man who kept her away from her new family. First, she sent her off to a boarding school far from home, and then she sent her to the UK in Cambridge, all because she was a buzzkill in her mom's life, along with her real dad.

She was always left behind without a friend, and she was always filled with anger. But she had this really great friend named Michelle, who was her bestie since high school and college. Michelle dropped out of school and became a black model in the USA.