{ Highest Ranking 👉🏻 #1 in Spiritual/ Islamic love story } I felt hurt seeing him in pain, pain, which wasn't so obvious to him. // .... Emotions overwhelming my unfaithful heart, I told him, "Assalam Alaikum, Ammar... your hand..." And they came covering us, maybe he didn't hear me. We walked towards the car, my attention on his bruised hand. Before we entered I took the first aid box. He stood there, tall, eyes ~ deep enough to drown me. He made my heart mad and it shivered as I neared him. I saw him grin and he let out a chuckle, and I asked him, terrified but fearless, "Why are you laughing ?" He turned to give me a closer look, his cold eyes examining every detail of mine and finally he spoke in his heavy Emirati accent that blew my senses, with a smirk alongside. What attitude !!! "Am I the doctor or you ? -I gave him a sideways death glare- And I told him, "I'm your wife," He raised his eyebrow side ways and I raised mine sideways too. And he talked again, burning what remained of me, my ears curious to listen to him. He told me to get in the car bluntly. I denied !! This time I wasn't going to listen to him. And he stared at me - his eyes speaking a lot yet they were so quiet. I saw him take a sigh of defeat! He moved up to me, close... closer.... bridging the gap that let air pass between us. And my fragrance blended in his enchanting one. *Takes a deep breath*

"What was that?" He came closer and closer as I step back with each step he took. "What was what!? I can hang out with whomever I want, it's none of your business." I snapped when I felt a wall behind me. Of course the damn wall had to be there. "It is my business and you know why? Because you're my wife, get it?" His face were inches away from mine as his mint breath fanned my cheeks. "Since when do you care that I'm your wife?" I whispered, my heart was going insane. "Since forever, Layla." He brushed my cheeks with his warm hands. "You belong to me and the angels are witnesses for that." ________________ None Muslims are welcome^^ #1 Teenagers🎊 #47 teen 🎉 #37 school 🎊 #3 spiritual 🎉

My name is Stuart John.I am rich. No, I am filthy rich. I am arrogant and handsome. I am always one step ahead of the game. The world revolve around me. Governments fear me. My employees obey me. Girls fall down on my feat. I don't respect anyone, yet everyone respect me. That's me. My name is Zainab and I am a Muslim. I wake up at 4 am to pray Thahajuth and then Fajr, which is one of the 5 mandatory prayer in Islam. I am shy and humble. Atleast I believe I am humble. I work for Stuart John, one the most rich people in the world as his personal secretary. Except for the pay, there is absolutely no reason why I think I should be working for this man, who is arrogant, stubborn, short tempered and believe the entire earth revolves around him.Yet, I need the money to support myself and the mess my family left me with.

Iman wasn't your typical girl who wore a hijab. She was a strong businesswoman who sacrificed a lot to get to where she was now. One day, when a man threatens to buy her company , he gave her no choice but to take his last name. Little did she know that he was an Arab prince...