Nailah Zayed.

Maroudi, Nigeria.

I hated my life. I still do.

One would think living a life like mine would be great. But, let's be honest, what's great about being a prisoner adorned but never cradled in gold?

What is so great about living a life that was never mine to begin with? What's great about living a life built on lies?

The perfect life? Don't make me laugh.

Every single day feels like torture. I have to live with the constant fear of being exposed, and live up the expectations set up for me. Do you know how bothersome and tiring that is?

The gold and glitter that adorns my life does nothing to lessen that worry. They can dress me up, and change me into being this...perfect woman in everyone's eyes. But, at the end of the day, we all know that I'm nothing but trash.

One that they can dispose anytime they want.

A prisoner in this world of theirs that will never fit in.

Still, I tried my hardest to slip into shoes that weren't mine even if that meant getting splinters as a result of that. I still wore it and took the injury, and pain with pride. For someone like me who had nothing, getting everything in life is something I needed to fight for and keep.

I'm already in the role, aren't I? All I needed to do is suck it all up. And, so I did that for thirteen years. For thirteen years I tried my possible best to be Nailah. There were no room for mistakes. I had to live with the fear. At a point, I became one with the fear so it wouldn't eat me whole.

All for what? For it to come crashing down because of one slip off? And because of one man?

My legs shook as I step foot in my matrimonial home that was more of a lavish cage to me. My thoughts were all over the place, and my head was spinning at a rate faster than one would think. Somehow, I managed to reach my hand out and rid my feet of the heels I had on shakily.

Throwing them off somewhere far from my reach, I dropped the bag along the way and reached out to unbutton the first few buttons of the high neck dress I had on—suddenly feeling suffocated by the clothing item.

I couldn't spot any soul in sight, or so I hoped. Because just as I was starting to dwell on that thought, I faintly heard the sound of footsteps approaching me and then a figure came to sight.

"Mrs. Nailah..." Came the voice belonging to one of the numerous housemaids. "...are you okay, ma'am?" She inquired politely. But, at the moment I wanted nothing from her or anyone...even her politeness felt like a mock.

Insistently waving my hands in motions that made little sense, I tried to swallow thickly and get a hold of myself. "Just go..." I hoped that will be enough to get her out of my sight.

I should've known otherwise.

She took another step closer to me, and through my slightly blurry eyes, I saw her reach her hands out before it came in contact with my hands—stopping me from falling face flat on the floor. I hadn't even realized I was swaying. I meant it when I said my head was a mess.

"Are you sure, ma'am? Perhaps, I should call Mr. Imran--"

"No!" I hadn't realized when I rose my voice, desperate to stop her attempt of calling anyone. "Don't call anyone..." My voice came out low, and throaty. Bile was threatening to rise, but I fought hard against it.

"Ma'am you don't look too well. It would be better if I call him--"

"I SAID NO!" Using the last bits of strength in me, I snatched my hand out of her grip and stood on my feet. Doing so was hard since it feels like the world is spinning, but I somehow managed to do it. Blinking to clear my blurry gaze, I fixed my steel gaze on her. "Get the hell out of my house right now. All of you, GET THE HELL OUT!"

She visibly flinched, and from the corner of my eyes, I could see the other maids that came out having heard our earlier commotion. They were all watching from the corners, peeping, and muttering stuff to themselves.

Perhaps, it's my subconsciousness that's making me feel even more insecure, but I felt like they were all mocking me existence.

It feels as though they all know the truth I'm trying to keep buried. Like my skeletons were laid bare for everyone to see and they were all throwing their snarky remarks.

It feels as though I'm losing what I managed to get. It doesn't matter if I hate my life or not. I cannot go back to the life I have then.

At least back then, I had nothing. So, my life couldn't get any worse.

Now though, I'm at the top.

It hurts more when you fall from a greater height. Imagine how bad my fall will be.

So yes, I'm scared...utterly scared because I'm all fucked up.

"Are you all deaf?" I questioned coldly, snapping my gaze from the shaking maid in front of me to the others hiding behind the pillars. "I said, I WANT YOU ALL OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE RIGHT NOW!"

Never in the ten years I've lived as Nailah had I ever raised my voice at anyone. No matter what, I handled it calmly even when I was a brewing storm inside.

This time around though, I'm not just a storm. I'm a tornado, a volcano that's erupting, and a time bomb. I couldn't think clearly, and I don't want to.

Luckily for them, they seemed to get the memo then because they were all quick to scramble away. Every single one of them rushed out through the front door, leaving the door smacked close behind them.

I stood there glaring at the door, my shoulders raising, and dropping as I blew out harsh breaths. Unintentionally, my mind went back to my conversation with Ayaan half an hour ago.

My heart dropped. I wouldn't be surprised if I saw the organ drop to the floor in a puddle of blood.

I have never been this scared in my entire life. Not when my father died, and not when I took the role of Nailah. I had always been calm headed, despite whatever life threw at me.

This time though, it's different.

I could feel my world come crashing at a rapid rate right before my eyes. And the cause of such disruption was sitting calmly in front of me, looking like the epitome of calmness. Though for the first time since I saw him, he doesn't look like the Ayaan everyone knows.

At least, not the man he pretends to be.

This man seated opposite me is dangerous. He looked lethal, almost as if he's out to kill someone and wouldn't stop till he got blood on his hands. He knew perfectly well what he's doing to me, and boy was he enjoying tearing me apart and picking at the flesh.

Somehow, I managed to stop myself from looking like a shaky mess. Swallowing thickly, my hand fisted by the side underneath the table, and out of his sight before I yawed my expression blank. "I don't know what nonsense you're spewing now." Even I was surprised by how collected my voice came.

I was a shaky mess inside. My insides were shivering, and my hand was a beating mess. My feet were cold, and I could've swore someone dumped a bucket of ice bucket on me.

His lips curled into an unkind smile slowly, amusement filling his cold eyes. Nodding to himself, his smile widened even more. "Deny it all you want, your eyes don't lie anyway. You should know that by now." He stated casually, almost as if he could see right through me.

And maybe, he could.

I clenched my fists even more, so much that my fingers dug into my palm—no doubt drawing blood from the sting I felt. Still, I knew I needed to keep my facial expression blank no matter what. "It appears you have nothing sensible to say today..." I reach my hand out to pick up my handbag, before getting on my feet. My legs shook then, but I hoped he didn't see it. "...let's reschedule this meeting to some other time if you don't mind—with Imran of course."

"Let me see you out."

"You don't need to do that--"

He didn't give me a chance to finish as he got up, and stood in front of me. His smile never wavered not once, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't creeped out. "I wasn't asking." He gestured in the direction of the exit with his head. "Let's go."

I glared at him, but didn't oppose. I don't want to stay in this man's presence any longer than necessary. The faster I get out of his sight the better it is for me.

Side stepping him, I trudged in the direction of the exit, moving faster than usual but he still caught up.

He rose his hand up, a silent gesture that stopped his men from following us as we walked out and took the elevator. If it was up to me, I would've rather taken the staircase alone than the elevator with him.

I felt suffocated, and was seconds away from breaking down entirely.

When the elevator doors closed, he came to stand beside me—tucking his hands in the pocket of the relaxed-legged trousers he has on. To think I was slightly taken aback earlier by his casual dress-up for a business meeting. Clearly, he does what he wants and he has more surprises up his sleeve than I expected.

"Imagine what will happen if I decide to expose you. I'm certain your in-laws, and husband too have no idea who you truly are." He chuckled, the sound coming out as a sneer to me.

I swallowed thickly, choosing to ignore him.

He let out a sigh, "—as fun as that sounds though, I don't plan on doing so yet." He didn't turn around to look at me, and neither did I. We both had our gazes fixed on the doors that will open any second now. "Don't ever forget though, miss, that your fate is in my hands now. The ball is in my court, and I will play it howsoever I want."

As much as I wanted to hold my tongue back, I couldn't. "Is that a threat?"

"Oh yes. Yes, it is."

I let out a humorless chuckle, despite the mess I was inside. "I know your secret too." He's forgetting he made mention of something I'm sure no one else know. If I manage to sort out my thoughts, I could use that to my advantage.

He laughed, throwing his head back in the process almost as I just said the funniest thing ever. The sound had my insides in knots, and my heart sinking because I know whatever he will say won't be in my favor now.

When it died down, he voiced out in a tone filled with amusement. "Go ahead and do as you wish with it. Let's see between us who will survive in the end."

The door choose to open then, and without so much as another word to each other, we stepped out of the elevator and headed out together using the back door. Being seen in public together won't do us any good, especially not me.

Considering we might be in business with each other, it might make it seem normal to be seen together but after all, we are in a hotel. Don't underestimate what the press of Maroudi can do with that information.

The last thing I need is something to make my life even worse.

Spotting my car, I brought the keys out and unlocked it. Ayaan beat me to opening the driver's door, and after throwing him another glare, he simply ignored it and gestured for me to get it.

I bit my tongue from saying something that will screw me over even more and got in, throwing the bag in the passenger seat.

"You should start looking over your shoulder from now on, and sleep with an eye open. You never know what can happen."

Lifting my head up, my narrowed gaze fell on his smiling face. If looks could kill, he would definitely be six...no, twelve feet under. He didn't push my buttons any longer and simply closed the door  for me. The man even had the audacity to wave at me 'friendly' before he walked away.

How I managed to drive myself back home without getting into an accident is still a mystery to me. However, everything came crashing down when I stepped foot in the house. Suddenly, the reality of my current predicament came crashing into me like a train on a railway.

Too caught up in the moment, I didn't realize when I reached my hand out and picked up the first thing in sight before sending it crashing across the room. I didn't stop there. I was too blinded by rage that whatever my hands fell on was sent flying and crashing.

The action went on till I couldn't find anything more to smash, and the living room looked like a mess. Even then, I didn't realize when a piercing scream left past my lips—the sound echoing round the empty house.

"DAMN YOU AYAAN FADEL!" I'm pretty sure I cursed out his entire generation.

At some point, my throat became sore and my entire body felt exhausted. Slumping in the messy pile, my feet ache and bleed from stepping on broken shards. I couldn't care less about how much I look like a lunatic then.

I am out of my mind.

My anger and fear somehow got tears streaming down my face. I had always hated how I ended up a crying mess after venting my anger. And yet, I always find myself back here.

I cried my heart out. The sounds of agony drowning me in my misery. For a second, I thought of simply giving up. It's over for me, I can't fight against that man.

But then, when have I ever given up without a fight? If I came this far, why should I give up just like that? Why should I stand and watch everything I worked so fucking hard for come crashing right before my eyes?

Why should my hard-work and sacrifice go in vain?

I didn't endure all that pain, and ill treatment from everyone just so this man can come and ruin me just like that.

I refuse to give up.

If everyone wants to play this way, then so will I? What will being good do anyway?

Screw being the protagonist, I want to be the villain now.