Affairs Of The Hearts |✅

5| Meet Jalal

Abuja, Nigeria.

The early morning rays peeked through the curtains, revealing his handsome, calm, sleeping face. The sound of the alarm on the bedside table started blaring, waking him from his peaceful sleep.

"Ya Allah," he groaned, sitting up and reciting the supplication for waking up.

He got down from the bed, slipping into his flip-flops before making his way to his en suite bathroom. He quickly took his bath and came out with a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one around his neck, water dripping from his hair.

In no time, he was done, his face devoid of any emotion, yet still breathtaking. Of course, every girl would dream of having him as her husband.

He took his car keys, phone, and suitcase before exiting the room.

Meet Jalal Abdurrahman Marshal, CEO of AA MARSHAL GROUP OF COMPANIES. A twenty-eight year old figure that commanded attention with an effortless allure, his presence both magnetic and imposing. Standing at 6'7" , he carried himself with a natural grace, each step deliberate yet unhurried, exuding confidence and quiet strength. His physique was honed to perfection—a testament to disciplined hours at the gym. Broad shoulders tapered into a sculpted frame, his defined six-pack and powerful build setting him apart in any room.

His face was strikingly handsome, balanced by a calm, steady demeanor. Dark, perfectly arched brows framed eyes of intense, focused depth, hinting at mysteries he kept guarded. His gaze was piercing, carrying an air of detachment, yet it held a warmth that surfaced in rare, fleeting moments. His features were elegantly chiseled: a prominent, straight nose, strong jawline, and lips of a natural, subtle pink that stood out against his brown, sun-kissed complexion. There was an effortless perfection to his face that defied the need for a smile; the mere hint of one was enough to captivate anyone in his presence.

Jalal's quiet intensity was complemented by his reserved nature, a man of few words but sharp intellect. He possessed a voice rich and deep, with a tone that conveyed authority without raising a note, a voice that people respected and even feared. Though he didn't seek attention, it gravitated toward him—his combination of strength and vulnerability an enigma to those who tried to understand him. Though outwardly perfect and composed, a sense of something hidden, something fragile and deeply guarded, lingered just beneath the surface.

He entered the dining room in his usual calm demeanor, saying "salaam," which caught the attention of Jalilah, who had been whining about not wanting to eat toast but fell silent when he came into view.

He greeted his parents, who answered cheerfully, while when his siblings greeted him, he replied curtly.

"Have you prepared for the meeting with the board members?" Alhaji Abdurrahman asked.

"Yes, Dad."

"That's good. I won't be at the office today, but I wish you luck. I trust you to seal the deal." Alhaji Abdurrahman smiled, proud of his son.

"In Sha Allah, Dad. Thank you." Jalal said and stood up when he was done. He bid them farewell before exiting the dining room. He entered his black, latest-model SUV before driving out of the house.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived at a large, twenty-story building with the firm's name written in bold letters: AA MARSHAL GROUP OF COMPANIES.

After parking his car in its designated spot, he got out, his face emotionless. Staff members greeted him as he passed, and he nodded in acknowledgment before making his way to the entrance.

The reception area fell silent when he entered, with only greetings directed at him, to which he merely nodded in response.

He arrived at his office on the twentieth floor and pushed the door open. His personal assistant, Maya, who was in her early twenties, immediately stood up and greeted him, receiving only a nod in reply.

Jalal sat on his executive chair and began reviewing the files on his desk.

"I need a cup of coffee," he said to Maya after a few minutes through the intercom, his voice authoritative.

A few minutes later, Maya knocked and entered with a cup of coffee, setting it on the oak desk.

"Sir, here is your coffee."

"Thank you. When is the meeting scheduled to take place?" he asked, flipping through the pages of a file.

"10 a.m., Sir."

"Okay. You may leave."

"Sure, Sir." She smiled and exited the office.

At exactly 10 a.m., he gathered his things and left for the boardroom.

"Good morning to you all," he said, taking a seat at the head of the table.

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Marshal," they all greeted, and the meeting began, lasting for two hours.

Jalal returned to his office, gathered his things, and left. It was a Friday, and the office closed at 12 p.m.

He arrived at the mansion at the same time as the kids.

"Good afternoon, Ya Jalal," they all greeted, except for Jalilah, who was crying and made her way inside without even noticing him.

"Afternoon," he replied curtly, wondering why the girl was crying.

"She is always crying after all," he muttered to himself before making his way to his side of the mansion.

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Written on: 25.10.20.
Edited on: 28.4.22 🖤