"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, praying that my lawyer had the answers.

Across from me sat my grandparents, wife, and little brother, all eagerly awaiting my lawyer's legal response to the slander. The fact that we managed to escape my office building with no media chasing after our stories was remarkable. We hid behind closed doors, where we would go through every action together.

I wasn't alone and I never was.

My lawyer, Khalil Jaheem, stood in front of my office desk, his classic suit and tie attire cladding his body in professionalism. I had known Khalil since my college days and had kept in touch with him as he navigated the wild roads to law school. Although he was significantly older than me, Khalil was the brotherly figure that had guided me through all the legal battles that American businessmen attempted to bury me under.

As the son of Sudanese immigrants, Khalil knew all about American discrimination. He knew all about the business battlefield.

"Well, we could file a lawsuit. The only issue is that in cases of slander it is almost impossible to prove malicious intentions without valid proof," he stated, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and closing his binder of notes. "It is possible, but we need evidence. This lawsuit comes with great risks especially with the allegations made against you."

Before I could speak, my wife had beat me to it. "There has to be some way to prove it, Khalil. Please, Ibrahim is innocent of all charges and these women are lying. Gavlik is lying. We can't just let this go!" she exclaimed, abruptly standing as well.

His dark eyes gazed down at her, a look of empathy crossing his features. "Of course I will help, Miss. I know Ibrahim like I know my own mind. He would never do this. That is a fact."

Pride bloomed within me, knowing that those closest to me all had faith in my character, my integrity, and my ability to lead honorably. Although the sexual allegations made against me could potentially destroy everything that I had built upon my business, I at least still had the most important people of my life trust me. They believed in me like no other, no matter how twisted and cruel the lies were, they believed in me.

"Thank you, Khalil."

He turned towards me, a smile gracing his lips. "You're a good man, Ibrahim, which is why I advise you to file a lawsuit. I can get started right away," he asserted.

A breath of relief left my grandparents, wrinkled faces contorted with happiness at my lawyer's agreement. My grandmother was perched upon my couch, hands intertwined with my grandfather as they both gazed at me with satisfaction. Together, they walked over to me as I stood, embracing me in their fragile arms like I was a injured bird needing care.

"Allah has a special punishment for men like Gavlik," warned Grandpa. "Even if he does not get punished in this world, he will in the Akhirah (HereAfter)."

"I know," I said, feeling the claws of fear dig into me, "but I'm mostly worried for my employees. They have families too and if my business fails, then they lose their jobs."

Grandma clasped my calloused hands in her own, silently reminding me of her love and support, the woman who raised me in wake of my parents death, the admirable guardian that shielded me from my uncle's threats after the blood had been spilled.

It was at that moment that I realized how blessed I had been. Through my raining days where my tears spilled against soft pillows and my limbs had cried in searing pain from memories, my family had held onto me. They grasped my shoulders right when I believed I'd succumb to darkness. They grabbed my hand right when I'd fall into my misery. They lifted me right when I sunk to the depths of sorrow.

They had always been there.

"Knock Knock, are there any Tarkans in the house?" asked an amused voice as he strolled in. Damon grinned widely, his wife behind him. His chestnut hair was swept back in the current male fashion, emerald eyes gleaming in delight like he had seen the luster of personal glory. "Assalamualaikum, everyone! Admit it, y'all missed me these last few months."

I rolled my eyes.

"Waalaikumussalam, Damon," said Khalil dryly. "Of course it would be you to cause the raucous in a peaceful environment."

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that," scowled Damon before turning to me. "So what's this I hear about a man tearing your business down?"

"Jared Gavlik," I sighed. "We were just discussing the lawsuit."

"Why would he even do such a thing?" asked Amira, genuinely shocked at the news. "You haven't done anything to him."

"Ibrahim rejected his business offer, so Jared felt the need to get revenge," explained Tasneem, crossing her arms over her chest in dismay.

Damon let out a low whistle, slapping his hand on my back. "Whoa, looks like you've got yourself deep in mud."

"Definitely did not know that," I sarcastically muttered, pushing his hand off me. Rolling the sleeves up my dress shirt, I firmly placed my palms on my desk, a plan formulating in my mind. "We need to do something about Gavlik before the lawsuit. I have to know why he did this and push his intentions out. Then we could prove malice."

A roguish gleam touched the corner of his eyes, lips curling in a grin that even shaytan (Satan) would scurry from. "This is gonna be fun," he smiled.

* * * *

The plan was simple.

Or so I thought.

Laying in the bed, I stared at the bright screen of my smartphone, watching the battery drain as I awaited a call, feeling helpless from not getting closer. Gavlik had fallen off the face of the Earth with no contacts or no means of communications. The media couldn't track him and neither could I.

All that was left was the faint rumor of our dispute, a smokeless fire patiently bidding its time to catch flame to his enemies. American businessmen observed the coil twist itself around tension, relishing the chaos that ran with destruction, enjoying the fall of a Muslim and his beloved empire.

"Ibrahim," mumbled the soothing voice laying beside me, "put the phone down."

"No."

Propping herself on her elbows, her tired brown eyes glared at me, lips thinned into a firm line. "Staring at the phone won't fix anything. You have to be patient," she whispered.

My fingers gripped the phone tighter.

Tasneem sighed, realizing I was far too engrossed in my pool of conflicts to see the reasonable sense she desperately pushed onto me. The plan was to contact Gavlik first and manipulate the answers from him. A man as egoistical as he was was bound to fall victim to old traps and habits, anything as long as I praised his masterful trickery.

The problem was that I couldn't get through to him.

Tasneem shifted till she was in a seated position, looming over me with her brilliant cast of beauty, midnight raven hair falling out of her long braid. Without realizing it, my fingers twirled one of the loose strands, body inching closer towards her until I sat upright beside her. From the worried gaze to her innocent persona, I detached myself from the poison that Gavlik inflicted upon me, and instead I searched for a cure.

I searched for my wife, my friend, my life. A sudden wave of shame flew over me, knowing that I had hurt her by consuming myself in the twisted game of revenge without thinking rationally about the consequences. I had become as blind as Gavlik.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

A faint smile touched her luscious lips. "I know, but you have to rest. Worrying over Jared will do nothing. It'll just make you feel worse," she advised.

I pulled her into my arms, hearing a yelp of surprise before she eased into the comfort of my body, head resting on my shoulder. Instinctively, my hands placed themselves on her hips, pulling her onto my lap. Tasneem's soft sigh was a melody to my ear.

"It just... bothers me."

"I know, but please try to. I'm worried for you," she murmured, leaving a quick peck on my lips.

As she pulled away, I pushed her closer, my hand pressing against the back of her neck. My lips captured hers, sucking, nibbling, and licking the sweet taste of them. Tasneem's arms wound up around my neck, forcing me impossibly closer to her. Instantly, my heart burst from my test at the feel of her smooth lips, the softness melting onto my own with a promise of something more, something much more intimate.

Tasneem broke the kiss off. "W-We should sleep," she stuttered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

I gave her a lazy grin, eyes hooded in lust and desire. "It seems to me," I lowly whispered, nose trailing down her slender neck, "that my wife is shy."

Her blush deepened.

Leaving hot kisses up her neck, I brought my lips to her ear, hearing her gasp in surprise. "You drive me crazy," I rasped in a hot breath. "You have no idea what I want to do to you."

"Then do it," she whispered, gripping my shoulders.

That was all it took for the reigns of control to be set free, for my body to take the lead, and for my lips to memorize every part of her. Blissful pleasure was a fantasy in a far away land, but in the presence of my wife, that fantasy became a reality. It became the driving force that sustained my wandering soul in my darkest hours, a light so radiant that it blinded others.

Unfortunately, through our distracted haze, we didn't notice the buzzing from my phone.

2018 Fiction Awards