Some know her as Aisha the troublemaker, the girl whose laughter dances a little too freely, the light that seems to chase shadows from every room she enters. But he sees something different... a side the world will never notice, a quiet storm behind her smile, a fire that burns just for him. To him, she is no one else, no mask, no pretense she is only one thing: his Ayla -Book Two of The Shettima Series- Out Now ✨

An emotional tale of self-destruction, survival and healing woven through a society where tradition and expectations often speak louder than truth. To the world, Farida Bintu Ardo is a bitter, emotionless disruptor who finds peace in chaos. But beneath her sharp tongue is a woman who has spent years mastering a dark art of survival-shielding herself with choices she knows are sinful, and burying truths that were never meant to stay hidden. She believes she is finally in control. Until her world crosses paths with Saleem Kabir Jega. Haunted by his own past regrets, Saleem carries deep scars beneath a mask of restraint. He is everything she didn't see coming. When their forced union becomes the very reason the fragile life Farida fought so hard to protect begins to unravel, her desperate defenses turn against her. Will she finally face the truths she has hidden from the world, or will her dangerous need for control destroy her completely?

⚠️This story is a work of fiction and explores themes based on cultural traditions, emotional struggles, and personal transformation. She stormed out to the garden. "Say something!" she snapped, eyes burning. "Or are you still playing that 'I'm-too-pure-to-talk' game? Still pretending to be holy?" And that's when Raif moved. Fast. Zariah didn't even have time to blink before her back hit the nearby pillar - not hard, but firm enough to freeze her breath. His hand gripped her waist tightly, the other at her wrist, locking her in place. His chest pressed to hers. His face was inches from hers. His voice was deep. Controlled. But deadly serious. "It's no longer like always, Zariah." Her lips parted. "I used to ignore you because I knew my limits. I'm not like those men who flirt and sin and call it love. I feared Allah more than I ever desired you." His eyes narrowed, dark fire glowing behind them. "I didn't punish you back then because I respect women - even when they spit venom. I kept my mouth shut, not because I was weak... but because you weren't my mahram. I had no right to look at you, touch you, even speak without reason." He leaned closer, and she could feel his breath brush her cheek. "But now..." His grip on her tightened, and her body trembled - not from fear, but from the intensity in his words. "Now you are my wife. Now, you belong to me. Halal. Lawful. Mine." Zariah tried to turn her face away, but he caught her chin, tilting it back to him. "Now I can do anything I want. I can touch you. I can silence your insults without guilt. And I can show you what it means to be owned in a way that'll make you crave it again." His lips brushed her neck, just for a second - before he bit her. Not soft. Not brutal. But just enough to sting, enough to leave a mark. Zariah gasped, frozen. He pulled back just a little. "This-" he said, brushing his thumb over the fresh mark on her neck, "-is the first of many."

"Salim, you're scaring me," she said quietly. He shook his head quickly. "I'm not trying to scare you." "Then what are you doing?" His voice lowered. "We need to do this." Ikram stared at him. "Do what?" Salim swallowed. "We need to make sure they can't separate us." Her confusion deepened. "How?" He looked at her directly. "We need to sleep together." For a second... Ikram thought she misheard. Her face slowly changed. "What?" Salim stepped closer again. "If we do it... if you get pregnant..." Her eyes widened. "They won't have a choice," he continued quickly. "Our parents will be forced to let us marry." The silence that followed felt heavy. Ikram stared at him like she was looking at a stranger. "Salim..." she whispered slowly. "Tell me you're joking." He shook his head. "I'm serious." Her stomach twisted. "You're serious?" "Yes." Ikram took a step back. "No." Salim moved forward again. "Ikram, listen-" "No." Her voice came out stronger now. "Salim, that's insane." "It's not insane!" "Yes it is!" He grabbed her wrist suddenly. "We don't have time!" Ikram pulled her hand away immediately. "Don't touch me!" Salim's frustration grew. "You said you love me!" "I do!" "Then prove it!" Ikram stared at him in disbelief. "Prove it?"

"The groom is finally here." Khalid's eyes moved to them slowly. Cold. Sharp. "Get out." They hesitated, unsure they heard him right. "I said get the fuck out of my house!" The anger in his voice left no room for argument. Both girls flinched, fear flashing across their faces. Without another word, they rushed past him, nearly tripping over their steps as they fled the room. The door closed behind them. Silence returned - thick and unbearable. Khalid stood there for a moment, just watching her. Ayesha's shoulders shook. Her hands trembled in her lap. She felt his gaze on her like weight pressing her down. Slowly, she tried to stand, her legs weak beneath her. She couldn't breathe properly. She just wanted to leave. Anywhere. Anywhere but here. She took a step toward the door. "Where do you think you're going?" His voice stopped her cold. She swallowed hard, her throat tight, her voice barely a whisper as she answered, "O-out..." Khalid let out a short, humorless laugh. "Aren't you my bride?" he said. "It's our wedding night. Our first night." His tone turned dark. "We should celebrate." Before she could react, he reached out, pulling away her veil. The world tilted. Panic rushed through her veins as he pushed her back onto the bed. "No," she shook her head desperately, tears spilling faster now. "I don't want this. Please-" Her words fell apart on her tongue. He wasn't listening. Hovering above her, his presence felt overwhelming, crushing. The ceiling blurred through her tears. Her hands clenched the sheets, her body stiff with fear. Then something inside her broke. This was her reality now. This was her life. He was her husband. Slowly, she stopped struggling. Her eyes closed tightly, lashes wet, tears escaping anyway. Her lips trembled as she whispered the only words she could find, her voice small, broken, and defeated. "Please... be gentle." a marriage of force. tortured love. love after marriage.

Kamilla runs down the stairs, her fingers clutching her dress to prevent it from trailing behind her. she's about to walk down completely when his voice stops her. "Princess" He calls out in a raspy voice and she freezes. Kamilla doesn't turn to stare at him or acknowledge him and that only seems to irk him more. 'Princess' Calls me that like he cares. 'Good, it should' she says internally. "Go and change" He instructs and instantly her pulse beats at his words and she finds herself exhaling slowly before turning to face him. "who are you to tell me what to do" She spits eyes glaring in his direction but she doesn't maintain eye contact. Sadiq's eyes narrow and he walks closer, his steps predatory. "Your husband" He states matter of factly and she scoffs. "Husband?.." Kamilla pauses for dramatic effect. "Husband to who exactly, is It to the woman you left alone in a rediculously big house or the wife you haven't so much as touched since you got married?" By the end of her sentence, she has her arms folded across her chest as she glares at the rediculously handsome figure in front of her. he might be known as the 'Amir' outside and a crown prince but in here she's his queen. "You want me to touch you princess" His voice is low and sultry as he licks his bottom lip while his gaze remains fixated on her. kamilla's breath gets caught in her throat and heat instantly raises up her cheeks. defiant she raises her chin. "I..We weren't talking about that" She stutters trying to brush it off. Amir Sadiq's face suddenly turns serious as he stands straighter. "Come here princess" He orders in a sharp voice. "Never knew my princess craved for my touch" He mutters low enough. _____ Kamilla Bello never thought that from juggling her daily life in a cafe she sets out in the outskirts of the city with her best friend shed suddenly be wedded off to a man. Not any man but him. Amir J.S.E.H. The man whose name is whispered and a man whose power suffocates,

The air smelled faintly of oud and cold leather. Madina's heart was racing as she ended her furious call. She shoved her phone into her bag, muttering under her breath. She'd just hid into this car to save herself and it's all because of that man. Madina: "When I finally meet that man, I'll strangle him with his own tie." (she exhales sharply) "Who does he think he is-God?" A low chuckle came from the seat beside her. Deep, smooth. Dangerous. Muhammad Turad who has been studying her replies which stuns her"You might want to choose a softer form of negotiation, Miss." his tone is calm and teasing "Strangling governors tends to make headlines." She wants to strangle him Her breath caught. She turned slowly, eyes meeting his-dark, unreadable, but too alive to ignore. Madina: "You-You were here the whole time?" Turad: "My car. My silence. Your words." In the glimmering heart of Abuja, Madina Gambo fights her way through the storm of politics, family expectations, and self-worth. As a senator's aide, she has learned to stand tall among men who believe power belongs only to them. Hidden behind walls of power and shadows, Muhammed Turad Muhammed I. After surviving a near-fatal accident, he returns to Abuja determined to find the woman who once appeared in his path-a woman whose presence haunts him like a promise. Madina, however, is too busy being infuriated. Her every attempt to meet the elusive His Excellency fails. Her family mocks her ambitions, her uncle poisons every dinner with scorn, and her grandfather-the only light in her chaos-reminds her that patience always wins. But patience isn't her strength. Until one night, fate catches them both off guard

"Next time don't roam the school grounds without a proper covering for your hair." Some girls cross oceans for adventure. Rashida Fintiri crossed one for a boy. Leaving behind the polished halls of her Swiss boarding school, Rashida Fintiri arrives in Abuja with one thing on her mind. Alim. Her cousin, her closest friend, and the boy she has quietly loved for as long as she can remember. She traded Switzerland for this, for him, certain that proximity would finally tip the scales in her favour. It does not. Alim only has eyes for Tahira, the soft-spoken, effortlessly beautiful girl every boy in school seems to notice and every girl cannot help but resent. For Rashida, the sight of it is unbearable. Humiliating. And when Rashida hurts, she does not cry quietly in corners. She strikes. Tahira becomes her target. A campaign of cold shoulders, cutting words and calculated cruelty that Rashida tells herself is deserved. That she tells herself is nothing. But nothing has a way of becoming everything. Because someone is watching. Senior Babangana, Alhaji Baba to those who know better than to test him, the most feared and sought after boy in school, son of old money and a name that opens doors, has noticed. Not Tahira. Not the girl everyone expects him to look at. He is watching Rashida. And in a school where everyone is performing for someone, Rashida is about to find out what it means to be truly seen by someone who sees far too much. "I don't know how to play basketball senior" Babangana' gaze drifts over her and she could feel a pinch from how dismissive he is. "You'll learn come here.

"What are you doing here" She questions eyeing him while walking towards her closet to pull off the clothes from the party. The prince is sitted on the bed, fingers fisting the sheets as he stares at her his Adam's apple bobbing from each ragged breath. "I'm here for you" He states his voice raspy. stunned she turns around so fast she stumbles "Here for me" the laugh that escapes her is unintentional. "Excuse me your highness but please get out" Now with a slightly colder voice she tells him trying to be polite. He freezes, eyes darkening at her words before wetting his lips "I'm not going anywhere, now come here. I want you" He says eyes fixed on her and she lets out a breath her glare begining to form. "No" The word escapes her as she turns to walk into the closet. "I'm here as your husband" The prince mutters and she freezes, her own fingers tightening over the silk dress she has on before she whips her head to stare at him. when her family would visit the palace she'd always leave with one name and that is 'His wife' with whispers within and outside the palace crawling over her as they refered to her as the 'Prince's wife' 'Judge's wife' but she'd brushed it all aside deciding it was best to address such issues when they are about to happen and unknown to her it came sooner than later. Their wedding was set to take place in a few days and she felt only calm towards it only for her to wait...wait and be told he's getting married to another and that she's out of the equation. Broken, confused and cold is what she feels but she lets it all go thinking maybe they were never meant to be. what happens a few years later when she's summoned home by her father, she introduces her man only to get rejected and this time she's told she'll marry the prince as his 'Second' wife his Second choice and this is where she catches on fire after all 'What remains of them'. Will she marry the prince. Not when he's one hell of a mad man. Them

Inaya, a vulnerable and ambitious young girl, had her life forever altered when she was forced into marriage at the tender age of 11. The trauma and hardships that followed threatened to shatter her dreams of completing her education and building a better future. As Inaya navigates the complexities of her tumultuous marriage and the challenges that come with it, she must also contend with the difficulties faced by her family. Will she find the strength to overcome the trauma and adversity that surrounds her? Can she escape the shackles of her past and forge a new path towards achieving her dreams?