Anisha's POV
I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection as if searching for someone buried beneath the surface. The soft lighting in the room bathed everything in a golden glow, but inside, I felt a storm brewing. This wasn’t just any evening, it was the evening. The night I would either reclaim everything or lose it all for good. The makeup artist had left a while ago, but the war raging in my heart demanded more than just cosmetics. Tonight wasn’t about beauty, it was about power. My power.
The earrings were the last piece of the puzzle, lying delicately on the dresser. As I reached for them, my hands trembled, not from fear, but from anticipation. The moment they clicked into place, something inside me shifted. It wasn’t just confidence, it was a fire, a deep, burning resolve. Level hundred. No more doubts, no more second-guessing. Aunt Haseena’s voice played in my mind, a relentless drumbeat reminding me of what was at stake.
There could be no regrets. Not tonight. This was the last chance. The final act.
I had refused Jalila’s advice that day, standing firm in a decision that felt both reckless and necessary. She hadn’t taken it well, of course. Jalila never did. Instead, she’d gone straight to Mama, and Mama had wasted no time pulling Aunt Haseena into the fray. It was a chain reaction, each link forged from expectations, pressure, and love twisted into something sharper.
Aunt Haseena’s call had been a thunderstorm of words, each one striking like lightning.
“Go there and take your husband back. Call me when you’ve done it. Tell me you’ve succeeded,” she had ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. There was no softness, no understanding, only cold, hard determination. Her will became mine.
Even Aunt Saudah and Mama had called yesterday, their voices heavy with certainty. They believed this was it. The moment. They had painted a picture of success so vivid, so tangible, that it felt like I could reach out and touch it.
But I knew better. Success wasn’t handed to anyone. It had to be fought for, claimed, and defended.
I took a deep breath, letting the tension build. My heartbeat was steady but loud, drumming in my ears like a war cry. What was there to fear? Nothing. Not anymore. Every setback, every betrayal, every tear shed had led me to this point. It had shaped me, sharpened me. And tonight, I wasn’t just stepping into a hotel. I was stepping into battle.
The event was being held at the Exquisite Suite Hotel, a place that now felt more like an arena. My arena. My battleground. Everything in my life had been leading to this moment.
The Exquisite Suite Hotel, here I come. And with it, my destiny.
Sabrina's POV
We were already at the event center with the team. Yes, you heard me right, we won. Victory was in the air, and it felt like stepping onto a stage meant for royalty. The sleek black team shirts we wore seemed to shimmer under the dazzling chandeliers, like armor in this grand battlefield of business and power. Mine paired effortlessly with a fitted jumpsuit, exuding a confidence I was determined to wield like a weapon. MJ’s shirt, emblazoned with his name, sat perfectly against his sculpted frame, while mine proudly displayed my name, a silent declaration of our place here.
As we stepped through the opulent doors, it hit me. This wasn’t just any event, this was the partnership celebration for Mukhtar’s company Innalillahi wa'inna illaihi rajiun! What a blunder?!. My breath caught as I spotted Hajiya Zahra and her entourage, each one cloaked in luxury and charm, exchanging polished pleasantries with other guests. A dangerous cocktail of tension and anticipation swirled in the air. Eman was already here. Mukhtar and Nadeera would surely follow. And Anisha? That was anyone’s guess.

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A walk on thorns
General FictionIn the unforgiving North, societal norms thrive on shaming women, and the pursuit of affluence overshadows humanity. Marriage is a cage, once locked, there's no escape, no matter the cost. Mukhtar Abdul Samad, a ruthless and cunning industrialist, e...