Hera stood at the entrance of the banquet hall for a good 30 seconds looking around. Her brothers and sisters were scattered everywhere all caught up in their conversations. She hadn't seen them since Youssef's last Christmas party.

Out of the corner she saw her little brother Daniyal who was only fourteen years old and the youngest from all 12 siblings.

"Hera!" the stout boy called out excited at seeing his sister. Hera was glad that that she first saw Daniyal. The younger ones were friendly and easy to deal with. They had got along pleasantly during every encounter and Daniyal was a simple sweet soul.

"Hey big man. Gone a little taller now I see," Hera hugged her little brother and ruffled his hair in the process.

"Not the hair!" Daniyal grumbled and proceeded to fix it. Hera laughed at her brothers antics. It was a bittersweet feeling to see most of her brothers inherit their father's vainness.

"I see everybody has arrived already." Nobody turned to notice her though, not that they would welcome her with open arms anyway and she was fine with that. It was just their nature to act that way. After all her main reason for being here was for her father.

Daniyal hugged Hera once again and scurried away back to the group of teenage boys at the far end of the hall bugging the DJ.

Hesitantly, Hera fully entered the hall and walked forward. To her right stood her 3 older sisters - Aayat and Sofia who were 28 and 26 respectively and then there was Dina who was the eldest of all siblings at 35.

"Hello," Hera meekly greeting with a forced smile directed at them. Aayat and Sofia were from wife number 3 with Dina being from Youssef's first wife. The trio looked glamourous in their evening dresses. The floor length couture dresses were modern and vibrant yet modest enough. Unlike Hera's dress which wasn't scandalous in any way, but the revealing shoulders and neck served to be a problem for Aayat.

"Salaams," greeted the three of them in the Muslim way. Hera mumbled a quite greeting herself and gave each of them a side hug.

"You all look beautiful," she complimented and waited for their reaction. Dina was well polished in a royal blue gown with a matching hijab whilst Aayat and Sofia both had red dresses that complimented their silky brown hair which cascaded down their backs.

"Thank you, Hera. You look well. How's the lawyer escapades coming along?" Dina asked pleasantly. Even though Dina was the oldest, she was neutral in her opinions and let everyone do as they pleased. Hera acknowledged that Dina wasn't by any means nasty, it was simply that she intimidated Hera up until no end. How could she not? Dina was a doctor who now retired at 35 and lived in a huge mansion looking after her 3 children. She married well. Extremely well.

"It's going great," Hera forced out and engaged in simple polite conversation that meant nothing. After a while, she excused herself and practically ran to the bar and took a seat.

Setting her clutch on the top, Hera let out a deep breath and waited for the barman to come along.

Meeting her sisters were daunting and she wasn't looking forward to meeting the rest of them. All of her siblings intimidated her because they all were so sure about themselves. The Uzayr children knew who, what, where and how everything was supposed to be whereas Hera severely lacked in the direction department. Her life was crumbling into pieces and seeing the success of her siblings made her envious. She was by all means jealous and wished that she had just as much good fortune and money as they had. They all still had their close relationships with their mothers and they lives were simply fucking perfect.

Additionally, they all had their own full siblings to fall back into when times got tough and she simply didn't fit into the little bubbles that each of them had created with one another. Hera was always an outsider.

"The hijabi Uzayr certainly scares you. Well how about next time you do a better job at faking your confidence?" drawled out a raspy voice with a bit of an edge to it. It was deep and alluring, something that could make any lady cream her panties at any second if words were whispered by that voice.

Hera looked up and was pleased at the sight in front of her. Standing next to her was a very big and handsome man who was buff in physique, yet not overly muscular. He was a tall one, standing at at least 6'2 with the most impeccable face to ever bless her eyes. The man was a sight for sore eyes with his raven black hair neatly combed back and his hazel eyes glowing mysteriously.

Hera wanted to moan out loud at the neat short beard he sported. It was clearly her weak spot. She loved a hairy man. He was dressed in sleek black trousers accompanied with a crisp white shirt that had a few buttons at the top undone showing of the trail of dark chest hair.

"Excuse me?" Hera snapped with a little bit of sass laced in her voice.

The man took a seat next to her and due to his big size, his knees brushed against Hera's exposed thigh from the slit in her dress. He raised his hand signaling for the barman.

"Scotch neat please and..." the handsome man trailed of looking at Hera expectantly.

"A glass of white wine please."

The barman was quick in serving their drinks and leaving them alone. Hera hastily took a sip of her wine in order to calm her nerves down.

"Like I said, next time you want to a little bit more convincing in your façade. It was quite comical."

Hera once again snapped her head to the infuriating man next to her. "And who the hell might you be?"

"Daman. Daman Faiyaz." He smiled at Hera taken aback by her beauty. It was a rare occasion for Daman to approach a lady on his own, usually they were the ones to initiate but he couldn't help himself observing the beauty at the entrance embrace the teenage boy.

"Well Mr. Daman," Hera began, "You can take your 2 cent opinion and piss off."

There was no denying that there was truth in his words but absolutely no way would Hera openly admit to that.

Daman let out a hearty laugh at Hera's reaction. It was instant infatuation from his side and her feistiness added to it.

"What's your name?" Daman asked with a glint in his eyes eager to know the exotic beauty's name. Perhaps she was from an island in the Caribbean he concluded because the gleam of her golden brown skin and rough curly hair spoke for itself.

"None of your business. Please move along now. I do not desire company and I am starving." Hera was aware that she was being rude and this was unlike her but just like anybody else she was allowed to have her moments. It was a pity that the very handsome Daman had to bear the brunt of her moodiness but it was after all instigated by him.

Daman was enjoying prying it out of her. He was enchanted by her beauty. It was a true sense of exotic yet familiarity at the same time. He just could not place it.

"Tell me your name? Or would you rather me walk up to the 3 Uzayr sisters with whom you were standing and ask them about you?" Daman said staring at Hera who calmly took a sip of her wine.

"I don't converse with or reveal information to strangers, sorry," Hera added quite weakly as she was mostly focused on where the food was. Looking around she saw the buffet table was quite crowded and the finger foods were low. As usual, she was late to the party.

Daman caught the direction of her eyes and decided that he could use the opportunity to his advantage. How badly her wanted to admire her beauty for a bit longer. She certainly knew what clothes and tones worked for her because the mustard dress was close enough to giving him a hard on when he first saw her.

"Alright then," Daman said downing his whiskey and standing up to go over to Dina, Aayat and Sofia.

Hera looked alarmingly at Daman because she didn't want to be the topic that was discussed between them. She met her siblings, was polite and now it was time to avoid them as much as she could.

Swallowing her pride yet again, Hera caved in and called out to him. "Wait."

Daman smirked as her made his way back to her resuming the close sitting position. He closed his eyes and took a whiff of the intoxicating perfume she wore.

"My name is Hera." She didn't want to give anything more away about herself despite the persuasive stance due to the man's handsomeness. Pretty privilege as it's finest.

Daman nodded pleased. Hera he thought repeatedly. "What a lovely name. May I ask, where are you from?"

"Where are you from?" Hera returned haughtily.

Daman signaled to the barman for a refill. "I hail from the Arabian Doulah Islands which is not too far from here. Although I was also brought up in London and now I divide my time between the islands and Kuwait. For work, that is."

Hera was surprised at his somewhat detailed answer. She wasn't exactly looking for his life story now but he seemed to be genuine.

She nodded at Daman who couldn't seem to stop staring at her. "I'm from London as well. But my childhood was all in Manchester before I moved."

Daman was completely surprised by her answer. How could a radiant, beautiful voluptuous woman like her live in a city full of rain and clouds. He'd expected her to be from a beautiful coastal city somewhere. Basking in the sun and enjoying her weekends on the beach with the sand between her toes. Turns out looks can be deceiving after all.

"Why is your face like that now?" Hera asked rather abruptly and bluntly. The prominent frown on Daman's face didn't suit him and it made Hera very uncomfortable.

Daman was made aware at that moment that his confusion was projecting onto his facial features, but he masked it up as quickly as it arrived.

Shaking of the thoughts, he gathered himself back to his suave nature. "So something about you starving? Should we head on out to the dining room for a late dinner?"

"Absolutely not," Hera shrieked. She was not going to have dinner with a man she hardly knew. The last time that happened, all she was left with was a broken heart and 3 days of non-stop crying. She'd learnt the hard way about men and their ways. Hera was a sensitive individual despite her tough exterior and Mikael was a man who took advantage of her. Hera had vowed that she would not let men invade her life until she was completely ready, even if it was only a simple dinner.

Daman raised his eyebrows in victory for himself because he knew that she would flat out refuse. But then again, the gentlemen in him couldn't let the beautiful lady starve. His grandmother might have been a lot of things, but she did raise her grandson to a high standard.

Hera looked over at Daman who had his phone out texting something to someone. "I will respect your refusal to dine with me however I can't let you starve. My personal waiter shall be waiting for you outside the hall. Tell him whatever you want, he'll be at your service."

Daman stood up and walked out of the hall but not before he placed a chaste kiss to the back of Hera's hand leaving her confused at the handsome man's behavior.

He is surely something.