THAT BURQA GIRL [ON HOLD]

Chapter 1{Edited}

•••HAFEEZAH POV•••

I was yanked awake by a loud knock on my bedroom door. No sooner had I opened my eyes, than the blinding rays from the morning sun violently attacked my orbs. I defensively placed my palms infront of my sleep coated eyes in an attempt to block out the intruding rays.

There was another knock on the door.

"Ma'am are you up? " A voice which I recognized as one of my servants' resonated.

"Yes, "My voice sounded hoarse.

I lazily sat up in bed and stretched my slim arms while yawning. My joints crunched noisily in response to the stretching. I mumbled a short prayer to Allah, as a way of thanking him for granting me a new day.

My bedside alarm beeped, alerting me that it was already 7.30 am, meaning, I was late for work.

Allah!

Swiftly, I kicked the covers off me and dashed to the bathroom to freshen up.

I just pray to Allah that I don't get fired today.

I grabbed my obsidian burqa from my walk in closet, among my other garments and shoes and swiftly put them on.

I didn't have time to apply make up as I was running late.

After making sure that I was ready for the day, I scooped my leather hand bag from the bed and scampered out of the room.

Hafeeza, hurry up!

I urged my feet as they trudged down the fleet of marble steps. At some point, I felt like discarding my low heeled stilettos and walking bare feet instead.

Wouldn't it be so much fun, going to work on bare feet?

Hafeeza, people will think that you've finally lost your sanity.

A heated debate was going on in my head as I rushed towards the kitchen which was swarming with maid servants. Most of them were busy preparing a variety of meals for break fast. As soon as I stepped into the room, they paused from their tasks and bowed their heads to me, as a sign of respect.

Honestly, I didn't like it when they treated me like a goddess. I can't blame them though, I mean I am married to one of the most powerful men in the country.

The man is a beast. Literally speaking.

His intimidating features can make even the dead to shiver in their place of rest. His voice holds so much authority and power, it's why whatever he commands is complied without revolt.

"Good morning ma'am, " One of the maids greeted smilingly. Her name is, Aisha. She is the head of the maids, meaning that she's in charge of all the maids in the manor. Physically, she is short, rotund with ebony black hair and a chocolate skin complexion. Her eyes are peanut coloured, with short thick eyelashes.

"Morning, Aisha. "I retorted.

"Your breakfast has been served at the dining room, ma'am, " she added in obedience.

"Thank you Aisha. " With that, I practically ran to the dining room where I found a variety of dishes nicely laid on the large mahogany table. Due to the limited amount of time, I grabbed a slice of brown bread and chewed on it. I gulped a glass of warm cow milk then left for work.

On my way out, I came across my driver whose face looked like he was about to go to world war 3. He was beyond infuriated.

I know why.

It's because of my tardiness.

Ephraim was his name. He was my personal chauffer. He was a tall, gigantic man with the most cold facial expression. His handsome features comprised of neatly kempt midnight silky locks of hair, a pair of deep green irises, bushy eye brows and curly eyelashes. He had a thick nose with a slightly crooked tip and his lips were slim and dark pink. A mat of silky black facial hair adorned his jawline.

He was a god.

"You're late, ma'am. " Anger was seething through his words.

"My apologies, Ephraim. " I retorted casually then walked to the open door of the BMW and slipped onto the seat.

He purred the engine to life and drove off in a neck breaking speed. My eyes met his malachite ones, on the rear view mirror and an apologetic smile danced on my lips.

Thinking of husband, I haven't seen that man since this morning. Perhaps he left for work early, you know, because he is the CEO of the largest company in this city. From the little time we've spent together, I have come to learn that he is always busy whether at home or at work.

Honestly, my life took a drastic turn the moment I was married off to a total stranger, whom I can now proudly call, my husband. My marriage to him was arranged. It was a Muslim arranged marriage. My mother, who is a money minded and abusive woman is the one who planned for the marriage.

My guess, she wanted to get rid of the burden, which is me. And at the same time, harvest as much money as she can from my husband's family. She didn't even care about my opinion regarding the matter. Her selfishness drove her to push me into a betrothal with a stranger, the man whom I would spend the rest of my life with.

But I cannot deny that at least a good thing came out of all this. The sweet fact that I won't have to ever stay under the same roof with my selfish mother.