Zoya hears her mother call her name from downstairs, so she gets up and heads down.
As she gets to the top of the stairs, her mother pulls her back and whispers, "Don't go there, I heard it too."
Zoya Zinadine, an executive interior designer of Gate...
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*Daaniyal's POV*:
After offering Fajr Salah, I got into my sport kit and began jogging. I usually go with Viyaan every morning but he isn't feeling well today, so I asked him to rest.
While I was jogging, my world was clouded with Zoya. I couldn't stop thinking of her since the day we got proposed, but last night was something special. Her smile. Her eyes. Her everything!
Zoya! my life, my sunshine, my lucky charm.
She looked effortlessly gorgeous last night!
Zoya's gaze fixed on the ground, and here I was praying for her to lift her head so that I can get a full view of.. my angel. She wore a black lace dress with tiny nude tassels hanging on the sleeves. She draped a nude shawl, which made her look prettier. The three-inch nude pumps made her look smarter and cute. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I just wanted to stare at her like there was no tomorrow.
"Assalamu Alaikum my son," Zinadine, my father-in-law, said. I totally forgot about him at that moment.
"Walaikum Salam, uncle," I said, looking at him and then at Zo.
"I'm handing over my princess to you. Make sure you don't hurt her," He said, concerned and embraced me into a friendly hug.
As soon as he uttered those words, I promised myself that I will take care of her till my last breath and I will not hurt or harm her. Even if chopping onions are going to make her tear, I'll do it for her.
"She's the apple of my eye," I said, and grabbed her tiny hands gently, and fitted them into mine.
Perfect!
She wore the ring I gifted on our engagement, and it brought a smile to my face.
"The ring looks beautiful on you," I whispered, but I know she heard it because her cheeks turned red and I wish I could squeeze them.
I couldn't believe this was happening. She's my dua which came true! I still cannot forget how badly I wanted her. I did not fall for her looks but for her excellent character..
We got into My Porsche and wore the seat belts. I grabbed the gigantic bouquet of fresh red roses from behind and handed over it to her.
"Thanks for being my wife," I said, planting a kiss on my forehead.
"Dan?" she exclaimed, and smelled, touched and kissed the roses. I know how much she loves flowers.
But definitely not more than me. She loves me more than flowers.
We had a good time travelling, and I smiled like an idiot the whole time.
I'll be loving you for the rest of my life.
See how fate worked!
Allah is the best of all planners!
Guess how I found out about her favorite car? - Yes, when she attended the business meeting with—
