Resisting A Cocky Billionaire

Chapter 19

Chapter 19- "...I don't do marriage.."

Aisha's POV

"Ugh! Does every drawer in this room contain cigarettes?" I ask as I throw out the packs of cigarettes from his bedside drawer.

"Expect for the drawer beside you, yeah." I roll my eyes at his reply and move on to the next drawer. Opening it, I find a bottle of vodka. I raise an eyebrow at him and he looks away. "How did that get here?" He pretends to be shocked. "Omar I'm really serious, if you want to be a better Muslim, you've to stop these things. I pity your next wife when I'm gone."

"And I can't wait for you to. At least the house would be lighter and Jenny would be back."

"Why don't just marry her if you want her that badly?"

He laughs and says, "It's just like telling me to marry a whore! I don't do marriage. She gets money, I get her body. Win-win."

"You're disgusting!" I push him lightly on the chest.
"No I'm not, would you marry a whore?"

"Already have a manwhore at home, only that he doesn't do it for money." I refer to him with a smirk.

"It's an exercise, don't you know it? It's called sexercise."

My eyes widen. "You're impossible!"
He leans closer and says cockily. "I think the word you're looking for is irresistible."

"Naked Patrick is more sexy than you will ever be. But you two have something in common, lack brains."

"At least I don't buy dresses after two weeks because I gain 20pounds a day." He huffs.

"I don't! I bought dresses because for some odd reason, our families decided to pack nightgowns and short dresses like I was starting some prostitute university!" I defend myself.

Honestly speaking, all they packed was lingeries, shorts, undergarments, short gowns and nightgowns. Come on people! Is this Slut Camp?

"When do we pack for our honeymoon?" I ask.
"You really want to go?"

"Nope, just don't want to look like a bad daughter in-law."

"We will talk about that later, right now I'm starving. Let's go to McDonalds."

We both take showers but of course in different bathrooms and get ready. Due to the intense heat caused by summer, it's August so you can imagine the heat. I wear a free, light textured mustard yellow gown with dark blue turban and flats. Omar dresses in a casual white tee and beach shorts.

I insist on him driving because the driver isn't feeling good. The obstacle to getting to McDonalds is the paparazzi. Omar wasn't disturbed as they asked questions and took photos. I on the other hand was finding it hard to ignore the questions, so I ended up answering most of them. When one of them asked me what I had to say concerning the rumour about me dumping his brother so I can marry Omar because I thought Omar was richer. I replied, "Yousuf is my friend and I married Omar because I love him not for his money."

"What are you thinking of?" He asks.
"What? Oh nothing." I answer and munch on my McChicken.
"You know I don't really care about you and your feelings right?"

I grunt in respond and he shrugs his shoulders. "Why do you think Yousuf left?"

"Can we not talk about it because no matter how many times I think if it, I can't seem to come up with a reasonable idea. I think it's because the Malik Family are bound to break hearts."

"Are you talking about highschool? Come on that was seven years ago! And trust me, I didn't do it on purpose, it just seemed to happen."

"You swallowing her face just seemed to happen? You cheated on me, on us for Godsake! And you call that not purposely?" I raise my voice, it really did hurt bad.