It was always written ✔️

Chapter 18

"What do I need to do to ensure that I get a hold on of it?" She asked, knowing the answer she was going to receive would be heavily disliked by her.

"The men that are in control of the land take orders from Zunair, however they do not acknowledge this publicly. I only know that they do because of a previous case that come to me. You would need to get Zunair's signature on these papers." He stated sliding.

"And what do these papers say," she asked suspicious of the lawyer's actions.

"It's just a formal agreement that says he will no longer try to force his control over the land that the orphanage is on and nor will he try to give orders to others to try and gain control over the land." He finished whilst giving Alayna a reassuring nod.

Alayna nodded to him.

"This will get back to you by the end of the week."

He asked no questions, on how she was going to get the current President of Pakistan to sign these papers, he was curious nonetheless. But years of experience taught him that the less he knew about his clients the better.

Her eyes drifted to the door that she had walked into. Remembering the office that she had walked into the last time she was here.

"Is he gone yet?"

"Sorry?"

"I asked, have you removed your son from working here." She repeated at a slower pace.

He nodded his head.

"He's been confined to the four walls of his room. I've enrolled him onto an online university, where he'll be studying Islam, because Allah knows he needs it." He said chuckling.

"Say, Mr" she looked down at the name badge that read Suleiman Yamin, "Yamin, do you find the behaviour of your son amusing?" She let the tone of her voice drop.

He stared at her in shock.

The way she would manage to turn the air from normal to stiff.

It was a powerful tool she possessed in her hands.

"No I don't, Ms Alayna. Or should I say, Mrs Rahman. Don't forget I'm the lawyer here, I'm the one who's been practising these shrewd ways of manipulation for years. Don't think I don't know your truth. Oh, how the image of your husband will be tarnished after news spills that his wife is hiding her properties from him."

Alayna clenched her jaw, the old man still had fight within him. He's half in his grave, yet he still thinks that he can trap her.

She rose from her seat slowly, maintaining eye contact with him.

"You think I'm married to that tyrant, tut tut Laywer Saab if your going to do a job make sure it's properly done." She snickered.

"I'll tell you the truth, I'm not his wife. I'm his mistress. So go, go tell the media that Zunair Rahman's mistress comes to get contracts drawn up by you."

She was now walking behind his chair, her eyes analysing the surroundings that were presented through the large window of his.

She turned to see him still facing forward with a knowing smirk, he didn't buy her lie.

So she did what she knew would work.

She pulled up her trouser and pulled a knife out.

The cooking lessons she had gotten from the aunty next door, throughout her teenage years, proved to be useful for once.

She held the blade at his throat, he remained unfazed.

He's been in the profession much longer than his incompetent son.