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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My head hurt, my eyes were heavy and not to mention my sore and numb body. I had no idea what had happened to me. What was I doing that made me feel like I was physically broken in pieces. I tried to move my hand but it felt heavy so I settled for moving my fingers. It was then that I felt like someone was holding my hand, the minute I moved my fingers, I got a tight squeeze in response. I knew that touch very well.
"Fatima." I heard Zayn lowly calling my name, I love hearing his voice more than anything. I moved my fingers again, he gave a squeeze again. "You're doing great, baby. Come back to me."
Come back to him? Weren't we home? Where was I, where were we? I couldn't remember anything. The last thing I remember was being at home with him and Fiona before he went back to the office around five o'clock in the evening. By the way, why did he keep saying I was doing great? He also called me baby, Zayn never called me baby... ever. I felt his lips on my forehead, lingering, brushing his fingers through my scalp so softly. I loved it when he did that.
"Wake up, baby, please." He muttered against my forehead, squeezing my hand so gentle. My heavy eyes finally slowly opened to a bright lighting, I pressed them shut again, moaning a little bit.
"Fatima."
After a long while I opened my eyes, to find my favourite pair of blue eyes to ever exist in the world, staring right back at me with so much tenderness and fondness. He looked different, like he had been crying, his eyes were swollen, his hair a little bit of a mess. He still looked handsome to me. The priceless smile gave me made my heart jump so hard. He looked like he was happy to see me, like every prayer had been answered after such a long time.
"Hey! I lost you there for a minute."
I wanted to reply but nothing came out or maybe I couldn't speak, I don't know which was which. The only thing I could master was a small smile in return, slightly squeezing his hand and as if he knew he kissed my knuckles. I tried to speak but he beat me to it.
"Don't say anything, you're okay. I got you." He kissed my knuckles again. I looked around, checking my surroundings. Why was in a hospital? What happened to me. "Don't ever do that to me again?" Sleep overcame me as he kept apologizing, making me promises. I'm not sure if I was in my right senses when I heard him mutter, "You're my world, Fatima." Then I was out of it.
. . .
"I'm begging you, let her go."
*
My eyes drifted open, welcomed by a bright light and white ceiling, I shut them so hard, panting so hard. I patted the side of my bed until I saw a figure hovering over me, Zayn was cupping my face in his big, warm palms.
"Hey! Hey! You're okay, you're okay. I'm here." He sat on the side of my bed, his forehead lowering to drop on mine. I was holding onto his wrists for dear life as my breathing slowed down.
