"Layla." Mr Ahmed stormed in the kitchen, looking tensed. He just came back from his business trip yesterday. Oh how peaceful the mansion was without his presence. But as the saying goes, 'All good things must come to an end.' I look up to him and a sudden shiver went down my spine, Mr Ahmed's presence intimidates me. It's like he is a hunter and I am the cute deer minding my own business. "Where is Jane?" He asks in an aggressive tone.

"She is not well," I reply — lowly. I wonder if it would kill him, to talk in a civilized and calm manner.

"My room is filthy and my suitcase is yet to be unpacked," he spoke.

"You can't unpack your own suitcase?" I ask him, looking at him in disbelief, almost bursting into laughter. But I held it in, it took everything in me to do so. "The famous, multi-millionaire Mr Ahmed Damari can't unpack his own suitcase," I mumble, sure he wouldn't hear me and start to laugh. I can't help it, I mean honestly... Hahahaha. He walks closer to me, standing only a mere inch away. Mr Ahmed looks at me, his hazel orbs anchored on me. I didn't move, I felt nerveless.

"Layla?" He says my name, his tone husky. I stare at him and blink owlishly. Where are my words when you need them. He takes a step back, and tousles his dark brown hair which is thick and lustrous. His dark brows, slopped downwards in a serious expression. Mr Ahmed's facial features were defined, making him undeniably handsome. Layla what are you thinking! I quickly looked down, doing istighfar silently ( seeking forgiveness from Allah). Why am I staring at him? I look at my hands, embarrassed at what I had done. Stare at Mr Ahmed shamelessly. "Fix your hijab," he said, breaking the awkward silence. I quickly put back the strands of hair, and placed my hijab properly.

I walk over to the counter and carry the tray, with a glass of juice placed on it. For Madam Samia. "I will take it to my mother." He walks over to me and tries to grab the tray, placing his hands on top of mine. I got startled and the tray fall, leading to the breaking of the glass. Mr Ahmed walks away, leaving me to pick all the broken pieces of the glass.

She has dimples, I thought while walking away. I have never seen her laugh, she usually doesn't smile around me. There's nothing special about Layla's eye color, they are just brown. Though they are warm and beautiful brown eyes. I can't help it but wander how much pain they hold. I can not seem to get around my thoughts, especially why I am drawn to her now. She is very opinionated I'll give her that, but she will speak with only good intentions.

I don't like her, I despise her. But I have never questioned my dislike for her. Maybe it's because she's the only one that speaks her mind, even if she is insulting me — it's a weakness, abiding to her speech. I hate feeling weak, it's degrading. To think me, Ahmed Damari has a weakness. Love is but a useless emotion, it does nothing but waste your time and efforts. I am aware I sound like a bitter man, but it's the truth. I head to the living room, and sit on one of the armchair. I take out my phone, and start browsing through my emails.

Flashback

"I want to be with you and make you happy as long as I live. I think I..."

"No please, I can't be with you. I just don't feel the same way as you do. I have always seen you as my friend and brother nothing more."

"Aisha just because we grew up in the same house, doesn't mean we can't be together. We aren't even closely related."

" Ahmed please understand. I don't want to get married with you. I appreciate you coming to me before going to my parents. But I can't expect this. I am sorry..."

...

"Sir. Mr Ahmed?" I look up to see Layla, her face showing concern. My attention avert to her.

"What is it?" I ask, and profess not to care.

"I usually take Madam Samia for her walks at the park, she likes it there. But the nurse seems to think otherwise. I think it would be nice if she..."

"I do remember very vividly telling you not to associate yourself with my mother, I do appreciate you taking care of her when the nurse wasn't there. But now there's a new nurse and she's taking care of her," I spoke, and stood up from my sit.

"You are the definition of insolent." She says in a low tone, and turns her back on me — walking away.

"Well you work for me, and I will not tolerate your behavior. Next time you think you have an urge to speak your mind. Think twice," I reply. She turns around and looks at me.

"You've done nothing but prove my point," she says. I walk away, and her words follow me. I am insolent.What about her? She's graceless! Who would ever want to be with her. Ugh! Next time she thinks she can say or do whatever she wants, there will be consequences.

.❤️