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

Jolade Samira Olukoya is a diplomat, calm, composed, and unshakable. In the halls of power, her authority is absolute, her fire measured reserved for those who truly deserve it. She moves through political rooms with precision, respected, formidable, untouchable. Khalifa Jalal AlThani-K.J.A-is the North incarnate: a man whose influence bends nations, who decides outcomes without lifting a finger, and whose name alone commands fear. Kingmaker, president-maker, untouchable, above the law ,he is a force the world quietly obeys. She sees him as distant. A figure of fear, a man whose reputation precedes him. He does not speak much. He does not reveal his intentions. To her, he is untouchable. But beneath his restraint, he is captivated. Every step she takes, every word she utters, every detail of her presence claims him silently, completely. He watches without acknowledgment, controls his obsession with precision, and waits. When the calm authority of a Yoruba diplomat collides with the silent, overwhelming power of a Hausa titan, the result is inevitable: a dangerous tension, unspoken attraction, and a collision of worlds neither can ignore. In a story of power, restraint, obsession, and forbidden attraction, she may have immunity but he holds the North. let's watch their love fight against all cultural odds he calls her "My West" and she calls him "My North" HIS WEST, HER NORTH.

Anwar was already moving toward her. "Anwar... don't," she whispered. His hand reached for her veil. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as panic took over. "Keep quiet!" he shouted, his voice thunderous, shaking the room. She fought back, pushing at his chest, struggling with everything she had. Fear made her hands shake, but she didn't stop resisting. Her breaths came fast and broken as she tried to escape his grip. his father's call came through and puts it on speaker. "What is happening there?" his father demanded. "Who is screaming like that?" Anwar didn't hesitate. "It's my wife-to-be." Nayara opened her mouth to speak, to scream for help-but Anwar's voice cut her off. "Stay quiet," he warned sharply. On the line, his father's voice exploded, ordering him to stop whatever he was doing. Anwar ignored him. Instead, he picked up his phone again and dialed another number. It rang twice. "Nayara?" her father's tense voice came through. "Where are you? Why aren't you home?" She tried to answer. "She's with me," Anwar said instead. There was a pause. "Who are you?" her father asked. "Her husband-to-be." "What nonsense is this?" her father snapped. Anwar's voice turned cold. "I don't have time. My father is on the line. I want to marry Nayara immediately." Both men started shouting at once through the speaker. Anwar leaned closer to Nayara, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Tell him." She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. He raised his voice again. "I want her as my wife. Decide now." His father roared through the phone, furious, ordering him to step back. Anwar didn't move. "I'd rather touch her as my wife," he said calmly into the phone, "than do something I won't take responsibility for. If you refuse this marriage, don't expect me to change my mind." Nayara let out a broken scream. Her father's voice cracked as he demanded, "What do you want?" Anwar answered without hesitation. "Marry her to me. Now."

Ameera Manga would rather analyze emotions than fall helplessly into them. Warm, magnetic, and effortlessly adored, she lights up every room she enters. Her future is neatly planned, until her final year throws her into chaos with someone she never expected. Zayyan Dikko is her opposite: controlled, precise, and private. Life to him is strategy. His career is on track, his reputation flawless, and his American girlfriend is expecting a proposal. But their parents have a different vision. They insist Ameera and Zayyan get to know each other. Neither wants the arrangement. Both love someone else. So they make a deal: Pretend to fall. Convince everyone. Then walk away beautifully. Simple. Logical. Risk-free. Until the lines blur. Until emotions shift. Until the act stops feeling like an act. Now the question is: What happens when pretending becomes the truth... and walking away becomes the hardest part?

What started as a simple school friendship between two girls quickly grew into a bond distance couldn't break. Even miles apart, they remained each other's safe place-until one unexpected online connection changed everything. When a Hudda enters their lives, what begins as casual chats soon turns into a deep, unbreakable sisterhood. Three different backgrounds, three unique personalities... but one heart. Together, they share laughter, tears, secrets, and dreams-especially about love. As time goes on, each of them finds her own unexpected romance, facing challenges, choices, and moments that test both love and friendship. Through it all, their bond never fades. From best friends to beautiful brides, their journey proves one thing: true friendship and true love always find their way. Three girls. Three love stories. One unforgettable journey. 💍✨

The story follows 24-year-old umar Faruq, who has just proposed to his longtime girlfriend, Balkis. Their future is shattered when Faruq's uncle and aunt die in a sudden accident, leaving behind their 7-year-old daughter,Noor khadija. Faruq discovered months prior that his uncle-a man of traditional and rigid beliefs-had legally "betrothed" khadija him to ensure she would never leave the family's protection. Now, faruq is not just khadija's guardian; in the eyes of their traditional community and his uncle's will, he is her future husband.

"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.

She was the one who loved him first. The one who taught him what love felt like, and the one who left him with it. He never stopped loving her. Not for a second. Years passed, but her absence only carved her deeper into his soul. Until the day the man who despised their love the most brought her back to him. But while a love once lost finds its way back, a new love story had begun. One filled with forced ties, constant clashes, and a connection that refuses to be ignored. Because love doesn't always come gently...Sometimes, it fights its way in. And as emotions collide, secrets begin to surface... secrets that were never meant to be known. If you think you know how this ends? Trust me you don't. The only way to find out is to READ!

Mr. Al-Arab and I is a poignant exploration of love's unpredictable nature, the power of reconciliation, and the growth that arises from even the most difficult relationships. It reveals that sometimes, the most challenging bonds can evolve into the deepest connections, and that true love involves not only learning to love another person, but also learning to love oneself. The novel centers on Manal and Bashir,despite a history of constant bickering and stark differences, are thrust together in an arranged marriage. Their relationship begins as a clash of personalities, with every interaction marked by tension and conflict. Initially, their marriage is a compromise-a union forged out of necessity, rather than affection. Bashir, driven by his desire to protect and provide for his daughter whose mother has been taken by the cold hands of death claims deep love for Manal. What starts as a facade gradually evolves into something real. Over time, as they navigate the trials of marriage, Bashir's feelings for Manal grow, and the two begin to discover a deep, unexpected connection. But love does not come easily. The path to happiness is fraught with challenges. As the initial thrill of their union fades, they find themselves facing the complexities of everyday life, and their relationship once again feels like an emotional battleground. In the end, Mr. Al-Arab and I is a journey of personal growth, forgiveness, and the profound realization that sometimes, love emerges where we least expect it-through conflict, vulnerability, and the willingness to evolve together.