•New Story Alert

•Synopsis

She defines the phrase 'Fire for Fire', but what happens if he doesn't see that fire bubbling in her rock? And not even understand it even if he sees it? At some point, her fire gets doused and she lives like a drowned cat with tears all over, but what hurts her the most is, he never notices. She hates him at first meeting, he derives joy from hurting her soul without an ounce of guilt. She sets to revenge, revealing the darkest secret of his life. On his quest for revenge, his walls will crack. The barries surrounding his heart will burn right before his eyes. His Drakaina, as he named her, will set his heart on fire and when he smiles back at her, her heart too will be set on fire.

•Chapter One: Court Case

The hot wave of the afternoon caressed his cheek and he closed his eyes, it was so hot that he could feel the way sweat was forming into beads on his forehead. He looked through the mirror and watched as they moved past the green plants and people walking on the road in a blurry vision. He felt nothing, not even the one he saw nearly thumped upon by another driver. All he could feel now was the hot air wafting through his nostril and caressing the pores of his skin. His heart was the same as it was, yesterday. Ten years back, and will be, forever.

The driver drove into the palace and he parked in front of the chamber his mother lived, before he looked at him. "We're here, sir." He nodded his head before the door was unlocked for him and he placed his legs down and stared at the palace. It was the place he hated to visit the most, at the same time the place he loved to visit the most. He loved it because he was able to see his Umma, and he hated it because he had to follow the ethics of the palace.

The two police officers saluted to him and he walked past them without even acknowledging them. The maids he met on his way knelt down to their knees and he didn't spare them a single glance. He was finally at the main living room of her chamber, where she was always seated. He heard as the maids announced his arrival and he walked directly to where she was seated, his mother.

She looked up and her eyes fell on his khaki cladded body and she turned away, he felt nothing. He sat down and smiled at her, all that she thought him had never went into the drainage, he was still practising. She knew he wasn't truly smiling, but she was glad he did, nonetheless.

"Good afternoon, Umma. I hope I met you in good health?" She sat upright before she crossed her legs and held a stoic expression. She seemed to be so much like him whenever she was together with him, because that was the only way he could truly understand what she meant.

"How many times do I have to tell you this? You can't come to the palace wearing khaki, Al-mustapha." He took a brisk look at her before he diverted his attention back to the television and spoke.

"What's wrong with me coming here with Khaki? Everyone knows, Umma." He shrugged his shoulder, and eventhough he looked at her, he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"Don't just speak, read my mind first, Al-mustapha." He stood up from the chair he was sitting and moved closer to her, she looked deep into his eyes and then he began reminiscing the knowledge he was taught, which he only used when he was together with her.

She had her brows lowered, her lips were pressed firmly and she had her eyes bulged. Her right hand was clutching onto her knee, Al-mustapha thought and he blurted the words out even before he got a hold of himself. "You're angry at me, Umma. And you're trying to hold yourself back from an outburst."

She pushed him away from her and straightened herself on the chair, "You have to read people's mind first before acting, Al-mustapha. Don't ever let anyone know who you are."

He sat back on his chair and shrugged his shoulders once again, "I don't see anything wrong with me coming to the palace with my uniform. I'll take my leave," He excused himself and stood up from where he was seated and curtly nodded his head at her before he walked away.

Yet again, the hot air of Sokoto embraced him and he found himself squinting his eyes from the blinding rays the sun shone on him. The two officers saluted once again before they opened the door for him and he entered the car. "I have a case in the court, let's head there."

"Okay, sir." Was the only response that came, as he expected.

They drove along the streets of Sokoto and Al-mustapha watched as the people walked around. Some where in their various vehicles while some were hawkers, trading their goods. He had never wished to live like them, feel like them, because he was more than grateful with the life he lived. The kind of person he was. They got to the court and Al-mustapha walked down to the main entrance, he turned and looked at the throng of law students walking towards the entrance as well.

'Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido.' All the students hushed as they backed away from him and waited until he entered before they did. He had no time to look into their faces to read their expressions, and when he was about to enter when someone walked past him, her shoulder brushing his; taking him off guard.

"What are you waiting for, Jamila? Let's enter," she called out to her friend and enthusiastically walked into the court.

The friend called Jamila looked at him and he began reading her facial expression. Her eyebrows were raised and pulled together, her upper eyelids were raised, lower eyelids were tensed. And also, her jaw was dropped open and her lips were stretched horizontally backwards. She was afraid of what he would do. He straightened himself and walked past her quivering, "I'm sorry."

He wanted to see the girl that bumped into him and nearly took him offguard. He sat down on the front row and the case began, of an armed robber that killed a man together with his two daughters and stole all his valuable assests. He was the one that took care of the case and proceeded it to the court, he had to be in the court for all the sittings.

The wife was called for witness, and she was terribly crying while begging the judge to avenge for her family's destruction. Al-mustapha turned around and saw as alot of people in the court were shedding tears for her, but he felt nothing. Not even a bit of empathy for her. It was nothing to him, just because she lost two daughters and a husband? He shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes, annoyed at the sound of her cries.

When the case was finally over and it was adjourned until two weeks time, Al-mustapha stood up and walked over to the entrance, yet again. As it was when a case was over in a court, everyone rushed out of the court. And again, this time, her shoulder didn't just brush his, but she shoved him aside and took a hold of her friend before they walked out.

As soon as he was out, Al-mustapha called onto his seargeant and ordered him to bring the two ladies over. He did, and when they came, he looked at them and spoke, with a voice that was peirce and straight. "Seargent, I'll like to take them to the station. No, this one, the other one can go."

Jamila looked over her friend and shook her head at her, "You have to apologize to him, Fatima Zarah."

The one called Fatima Zarah put her hands at akimbo and she stared at Al-mustapha with an expression that spoke her confusion. "What have I done that you'll take me to the station for?" She inquired, glaring at the two seargents that walked upon her and were about to get her into the back of the hilux. "What? Don't even come over here, please."

Al-mustapha sighed and rubbed his temple before he spoke, "Ask your friend what you did."

Fatima Zarah glared at him under the thickness of her eyelashes before she looked at Jamila, "What have I done, Jamila?"

"You pushed him on our way in, and while we were going out; you shoved him aside, Fatima Zarah."

Fatima Zarah held a stoic expression on her face and turned to glare at the seargent once again before she looked at him directly in the eye as she spoke, "You probably got in my way..." She let her word trailed off as she read the name that was pinned on his right breast, "Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido."

Al-mustapha laughed, a humorless laughter that sent a shiver down Fatima Zarah 's spine but she was so presumptous that she masked her fear with a brave expression. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry, I need to go." She took a hold of Jamila's hand and walked away.

Al-mustapha looked at the two seargents and thundered, "Get her to the station no matter what!" And they rushed to Fatima Zarah.

She was so adamant about getting to the back of the hilux and the seargent didn't know what they would do to her. One of them walked towards Al-mustapha that was now seated inside the car and spoke, "I'm sorry sir, but she won't get into the back. What should we do?"

"Why won't she? Small..." he looked at him, the seargent. They called him small because of his physical appearance. "Why the hell won't she get into the back? Don't get me angry this afternoon, unless you want to spend your night where I planned for her to stay."

Small scratched his nape and fixed his eyes on his boots, "I'm sorry sir, but she's a woman, she can't get into that. May be I'll take a bike to the station and she'll sit in the front. It's against the ethics, for her to sit there, sir." He was fiddling with his fingers as he spoke, because he knew it would be difficult for Almustapha to understand what he meant. Because he had never understood. Never knew what was right or wrong for someone apart from himself.

Al-mustapha closed his eyes and leaned onto the chair, he could hear Umma's words ringing into his brain, "Don't ever let someone know you're not like us, Al-mustapha. Make sure you act like everyone should." He opened his eyes for a brisk second and muttered, "Get her in here."

He felt as she was brought into the car and she sat beside him, and through his peripheral view; Al-mustapha watched as she brought her phone out and she dialed a number. "Hello, Ammi," she said with a soft and slow voice.

"Ammi, I don't know what I did, but from the court I'm being taken to the police station." She was silent for a moment before he watched as tears rolled down her cheeks, "I really did nothing, Ammi. Please Amm..."

She wasn't able to complete her sentence when Al-mustapha snatched the phone away from her hand and he spoke, "This is Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido. Your daughter will spend her night in the station today, you can come and get her tomorrow." He ended the call even before her mother was able to reply him.

Fatima Zarah turned to look at him with a fiesty expression, "What do you mean by I'm going to spend the night there? For what reason? Look, I'm a law student, I know of my rights. I did nothing wrong that called for that, let me out of this car."

He handed her back her phone and looked directly into her eyes, and for the first time, he read her expression. She was afraid, and he gained the pleasure he wanted. "Keep shut, or if you feel you can do something about it, call anyone you think can get you out of my hand."

She opened her mouth to speak when he cut her off, "Small, if she speaks again, shut her up." And he leaned back and closed his eyes. Fatima Zarah looked at him and gulped down a lump in her throat, he looked all sort of maliciousness, and she had to be alive for Ammi. She knew it would be easy for this man to kill her and discard her carcass without anyone knowing. This monster, in the body of Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido.

•Chapter Two: Apology

"What's your name?" Small asked, and she placed her hand at akimbo and glared at him before she replied.

"How many times do I have to tell you my name? My name is Fatima Zarah Tambuwal," she replied with a voice pitched with annoyance. She couldn't understand why she had to be in this frigging police station instead of home together with her Ammi. And now, this useless person is trying to make her even more annoyed than she truly is.

"I need your father's name. Your surname." He inquired, and Fatima Zarah glared at the walking body of Al-mustapha before she turned and answered, this time her annoyance couldn't be suppressed.

"That's my name, even in my school ID card that's what I use. Do I have to tell something that's nonexistent? If you can't put it as Fatima Zarah Tambuwal then let me go, I haven't done anything wrong to start with."

Small walked over to where Al-mustapha was making a phonecall and hung his head down until he was done and he began, "Sir, she isn't going to tell me her surname. And while writing the report, what do I have to write? As her crime?"

Without a single glance at him, Al-mustapha walked over to where Fatima Zarah was seated and he answered the last question Small asked him. "She harassed a police officer, write that down. And also, for her surname, use my name."

"Why the hell do I have to use your name? My name is Fatima Zarah Tambuwal, nothing sort of Al-mustapha whatsoever!" She yelled, but her voice turned to deaf ears because a female officer came and guided her to a cell. An isolated cell where Al-mustapha kept his victims. They always wondered what he felt if he locked innocent victims. But they had never knew what he was feeling or what his next move would be. He was so unpredictable.

It was not until after 9pm that Al-mustapha came inside the cell she was locked in, and looking up to meet his eyes, Fatima Zarah felt rage filling up her heart; but she knew better than to act up to her feelings. She looked away and more tears rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't believe she was being held up in a police station for a reason as feasible as that. Who the hell did he think he is?

Lower chin streched downwards, tears coming out of her eyes, body trembling; She's in so much pain. He smirked to himself and asked, "Are you crying?" He blurted even though he knew it was a dumb question.

She looked at him and rolled her eyes, and the funny thing is that he didn't even know what that meant. "No. I'm so happy that I can even dance because I'm held in this beautiful place." She glared at him again and Al-mustapha smiled at her.

"That's good then, I guess you don't need anything. Goodnight, incase you need the music, call out to Stephanie." He left the cell even before she acesssed his words in her mind. She wished her scream could be heard in their house, but all was in vain. She was hungry beyond words could tell, and this unreasonable man didn't even thought about what she would eat. He just came and disappeared just like that. She hadn't done anything wrong, she wished she can sue him for this.

❀

Early in the morning, Fatima Zarah didn't know how she had slept, she felt a soft tap on her shoulder and she jerked upright. "What's happening here?" She asked, unaware of her surroundings. She looked around and that was when all came back to her. She slept in the cell he promised to keep her until tomorrow morning. And it was already the tomorrow morning. She didn't know the kind of thing she would do to this man to avenge for what he did to her.

She looked at the woman that was staring down at her and mustered a polite smile, "What do you want, ma?" She asked, and the woman smiled before she placed down a plate of food in front of Fatima Zarah.

"I thought about you all night long, Fatima," she was cut off by Fatima Zarah even before she got to the end of her sentence.

"Sorry, the name is Fatima Zarah." She smiled again, politely and the smile was reciprocated.

"Okay, sorry for cutting off some part of your name, Fatima Zarah. I thought about you all night long and I know he haven't asked anyone to bring something for you to eat. It's nothing expensive, you should try and eat something, okay?" Instantly, Fatima Zarah's eyes wandered to the name tag on her breast pocket and she smiled at the name 'Stephanie.'

"So you're the Stephanie? Thank you so much, Steph, can I call you that? Much more like a short cut?" She chuckled and Steph smiled as Fatima Zarah dived into her food.

"You can't let me call you Fatima but you want to call me Steph? Anyways, you're granted the permission. You can pray after you're done." Surprised, Fatima Zarah looked up from her plate of food and asked.

"How do yoy know we pray in the morning? Don't worry about me, I'm on my period, I just need to get home before I stain on myself." She made a face, her mouth full with the contents of her food. Steph smiled, she liked Fatima Zarah at first glance.

"Don't worry you can go home when he comes, he usually comes in around 9am, you just have to hang in a little bit more. It's 7:34am now." Steph said as she took a look at her phone and she stood up to go back to her post when Fatima Zarah called her.

"Steph, is this how he usually do things? Like just lock innocent citizens that haven't make any mistake?" Steph smiled humbly before she nodded her head, and like a flash, she was out of the cell.

Full of thoughts, Fatima Zarah ate the food and she sat there waiting for 9am to click. She had never felt this humiliated all her life, and she was full of questions why Ammi hadn't come to take her back. Ammi had connections all over the state of Sokoto. And Fatima Zarah wondered why Ammi didn't even visited, that's so much not like her.

At exactly 9:12am, Steph came into the cell and she smiled brightly at Fatima Zarah before she asked her to come along with her. They walked out silently until they were in his office, and Fatima Zarah looked directly into his face before she spoke. "I hope I can go home now?"

With his hands massaging his temple, Al-mustapha smirked and answered her, "Do you want to spend one more night?"

Fatima Zarah was about to reply him back when Steph nudged her shoulder and she was shut. She looked at him and ducked her head down. "Stephanie, she should give you her family's contact and you'll tell them to come and take her, I wonder why she wasn't being followed and it is already past 9. Are you not loved at home, Young lady?" He asked Fatima Zarah, and before she replied him he looked at Steph and asked again, "Isn't that what people do? Come over for their loved ones even if they're criminals?"

Fatima Zarah wished she can give him a taste of his own medicine, but she tried so hard. She was truly tired of this place and she wanted to see Ammi and ask her why she hadn't come for her. "Can I go? I don't need any guardian to come for me." She couldn't help but glare at him and he smirked once again.

"You need a guardian, Young lady, so we can warn him or her for you not to repeat the same thing again. Okay?"

Annoyed, Fatima Zarah looked at Steph with her hands at akimbo and spoke, "Steph, will you please tell this person sitting there that what I did wasn't a crime that calls for me to be locked up in this place for a day and when I'm being released I have to call a guardian. There, Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido, incase you don't know law, I tell you."

Al-mustapha laughed, a humorless and dangerous laughter that sent a chill down Fatma Zarah's spine, but she held a stoic expression. He was about to reply her when Steph nudged Fatima Zarah's shoulder and she whispered into her ear, "You need to save yourself away from this man unless you want to stain on yourself. He can have you locked up here for a week for this. Quickly apologize, Fatima Zarah."

"Oh my god, that's true." Al-mustapha began talking when she cut him off. "Look, I'm so sorry for doing what I did in court, I didn't know you were a police officer. Also, I'm sorry for talking back to you now. And I can even thank you for letting me use your name. Please let me go home, I really need to be there."

She took him of guard when she moved to where his desk was and took the pen in his hand. She took a sticky notepad and wrote her name as he asked Small to write it yesterday. 'Fatima Zarah Al-mustapha Tambuwal.' She signed before and looked at him with a smile. "I've signed, I'm out safely. Thank you!" She spoke in a high pitched tone and practically ran out of the office.

Before she closed the door, she turned with a very hard expression and glared at him. "I won't forgive you for this, all that thank you and apology was fake. You'll have to pay back for this, Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido." And she was out of the office even before they accessed what she said.

She met Small and he showed her where her things were kept and she was out of the police station in such a speed she had never used in her life. She had never been this angry and had never felt this hurting hatred for someone like she did for Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido.

She took a taxi to Mabera, the area they lived and on her way home, she cried. She had never apologized to anyone when she wasn't at fault all her life until today. And to top that, she apologized to the man that humiliated her more than anyone in the world. She did nothing that called for her to be locked up in a cell, but he did, just because he felt he was some sort of a high personelle. She had to to think of a way to make him pay for what he did, she was surely not going to let him go scotfree.

She arrived home and Ammi left the key with the guard, and that's what baffled her even more. What had gotten into Ammi's head? Was she mad at her because of what she did? For doing something not worth of her being locked up. She collected the key and entered the house, it was eerily silent like it had always been unless they were home.

She went directly into her room and took her bathe before she entered the kitchen and met the breakfast Ammi left for her. What's wrong with Ammi? She acted as if nothing had happened that's unusual. Nonetheless, Fatima Zarah ate the breakfast and she dialled Ammi's number but she didn't pick. She kept dialling her number but she hadn't responded. Fatima Zarah had nearly gave up when a message popped on her phone and she was so fast at viewing the message because it came from Ammi.

Dr. Sumayyah Tambuwal- Hi Fatima Zarah, I know you're fine. I know you'll be back home safe, okay? Don't worry about Ammi much, I'm fine too. I'll be back home before 4pm, we're going out, okay? Rest before then and get ready, Ammi loves you.

•Chapter Three: Coronation

She turned on her bed and she felt as if all that happened was a dream. Her face scrunched up when she reminisced what happened to her in the police station and she slowly began to open her eyes. She stared directly at the wall clock in her room and it was only a few minutes to 4pm. She quickly got down from the bed, she knew wherever Ammi was, she was on her way to the house. She walked to the bathroom and bathed, she still felt the stink of the police station on her body.

She was sitted on her vanity stool and was getting ready when Ammi barged into her room, Fatima Zarah stood up and rushed to where Ammi was and she embraced her. "Dr. Sumayyah, have you stopped loving me?" She whined and broke into tears, what Al-mustapha did to her was something that got itself engraved in her memories.

Ammi smiled and patted Fatima Zarah's back. Whenever she called her Dr. Sumayyah, she knew she did something wrong to her. "Dr. Sumayyah is so sorry, Fatima Zarah. Will you forgive your Ammi?" She asked and broke their hug, and Fatima Zarah pouted her lips before she nodded.

"I thought you were going to come and bail me out, Ammi. What happened? And you didn't even come to the station in the morning. How can you do that to me? That Acp is surely crazy, I did nothing wrong, Ammi!" She was crying, and all that happened in the station came back to her in a rush. She wished she can see him again and make him pay for what he did to her, because she can never forgive him.

"I know you'd be fine, Fatima Zarah. I inquired about the police officer that held you hostage and also the station they took you, I know you'd be safe. Even though I was hurt seeing how he held you in the station while you did nothing wrong that called for that, I have no more choice than to let things slide. Dr. Sumayyah Kamal Tambuwal is sorry."

She began clearing Fatima Zarah's tears and she chuckled before she hugged Ammi to her chest and nodded her head. "Ammi you said we're going out today, where are you taking me?" She asked, when Ammi pulled her back into the vanity stood and she began applying a light makeup on her face.

"I was invited for the coronation of Zubair Muhammad Sa'ad. I can't remember the title, but the traditional coronation happened today and there would be a small party in the evening. I don't want to go alone, I need to show the world the kind of beautiful daughter I've got."

Fatima Zarah smiled happily before she flipped back her hair and fluttered her eyelashes. "Who has the most beautiful daughter other than Dr. Sumayyah Kamal Tambuwal?"

Hugging her from behind, Ammi laughed and lovingly pecked her cheeks, "No one other than her. And that daughter is no one but Fatima Zarah Tambuwal. My very own Esq." She finished helping her to get ready and they went over to Fatima Zarah's closet and she choosed a black dress for her.

"This will look great on your body, Fatima Zarah. I truly love the dress, but you've never worn it, not even for once since I bought it for you." Ammi said as she laid the dress on the bed and she looked at Fatima Zarah after taking her handbag into her hand.

"I'll wear it today and look more beautiful than ever, Ammi. You should get ready too, I'll prepare something for you to eat. Between, I missed school and court sitting today. That guy spoiled everything for me." She made a face, and Ammi laughed as she made her way out of the room.

"The first person you're going to handle his or her case when you're certified, I think you should put that into consideration and consider his or her feelings. Because you know what it feels to be in a cell." Ammi laughed and she was out of the room while Fatima Zarah got into her dress. As she expected, she looked more beautiful than she had ever imagined, and she smiled brightly to herself. Ammi really know what suit her skin.

With her hair uncovered, she walked past their lavishly decorated living room and into the kitchen that could fit more than ten people. She began making a snappy food that would be so easy for Ammi to consume. That woman being a doctor didn't help a bit, she was so much careful with whatever she did in her life. Even the food she ate.

She was done and was watching the television when Ammi came out of the room, all decked up. She was no more smelling like the hospital, and they smiled at each other. "You're more beautiful without labcoat, Ammi. Even though the labcoat tell who truly Dr. Sumayyah is."

Ammi smiled and muttered a soft thank you as Fatima Zarah presented the food to her before she sat down and began munching on the food. Fatima Zarah went into her room and she covered her hair, took her handbag before she walked out of the room and she met Ammi all ready to go.

"Can we go, Young lady?" Fatima Zarah scrunched up her face at the name Ammi called her with. "That idiot called me Young Lady, I dont't want to hate this beautiful woman, but if she keeps calling me that, I can't save it." She said sarcastically and walked out of the house, and she waited as Ammi locked the house and they hopped into the car before Ammi replied her with laughter filled in her voice.

"Fatima Zarah may be I should take you to anger management class, what do you think? You're just so spicy." She laughed and looked out through the window, enjoying the hotness of Sokoto. How the wind swooshed her skin and burned her, it was a beautiful sensation.

"Take that idiot police officer that doesn't know his work first, Ammi. I'll sue him first, the moment I graduate from Law school." Ammi could only smile as she fixed her eyes on the road. But there was something hidden in those eyes which Fatima Zarah couldn't point out. That's something about Dr. Sumayyah Kamal Tambuwal, if she wished to hide a secret to the world, it would forever be hidden. Because she knew how to play with emotions and she was a painter when it came to facial expressions. Fatima Zarah Tambuwal wondered how she did that.

❀

He was in his house, sipping a mocktail as though what Umma was talking about wasn't important. Not to even talk about the way her voice was at the verge of breaking and she was minutes away from crying her grief out. "You need not to worry, Umma. From the way your voice sound, you're close to crying, right? If I'm not mistaken."

Umma wished she could strangle him to death, but that was something she could never to do, not to her own flesh and blood. "This is something that has your life on stake, Al-mustapha. Why don't you understand what I mean and consider my feelings? Can't you for once be human?!" At th end, her voice came out in thunder but the worst thing was that, they both knew he didn't know what she was feeling.

He knew when she spoke with that voice, he needed to apologize as fast as he can, and so he dropped down his mocktail and focused on the phone. "Look, I don't mean to sound that way, Umma. I'm so sorry please. Now, what do you want me to do?" He asked, because he knew there was surely something she wanted him to do that she was acting this way.

"I want you to come over this evening, I know you weren't here today because you're at work, but that doesn't mean they'll all understand, Al-mustapha. You hardly participate in these royal gatherings and all, and you can see what's happening because of that. I want you here today, okay?"

He gulped down a lump in his throat and nodded his head as if she could see him, "I'll be there, Umma. But I'm sorry, I won't act like you want me to. Whoever mess with me will sleep in cell, that's it." He ended the call even before she got to reply him, and Umma didn't bother to call back, because she knew he wouldn't pick.

Al-mustapha got up from the pool side and he entered the house, his mood had got spoilt, not that he had any. He smiled at himself for trying to act human and went directly to his room. She didn't tell him, but his instincts told him that he was expected to wear his royal attire, and he choose one among the thousands that had never seen the light of the day.

He got ready in less than thirty minutes and he was already in his car, driving to the royal palace as he listened to music. At school, he learnt that people listen to music when they're bored, sad or angry, and he would love to imagine that he was sad. Even though he didn't know the sweetness of music or how to enjoy it, he listened to the words said. He entered the palace and there were throng of cars, something he hated the most. He thought Umma said it was a 'small party'?

He rubbed his hands together, parked his car and got down. Ignoring all the greetings he was getting. Al-mustapha got directly into the hall and there was so much people that he felt he was going to have them all locked up into a cell. He walked silently, not even looking up to the fingers pointing at him or his name that was being called in hushed tones. His aim was to find Umma and he was walking to the table that held the royal family.

"Umma, I'm here." He whispered into her ear, and all her friends that circled her turned to look at him even though they couldn't get a grasp of his face, they knew he was the always spoken about; Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido.

"You need to greet them with a smile, Al-mustapha, please?" She whispered back, and when she looked back at her friends, her smile grew even more brighter.

He looked at them and greeted them in unison, "Good evening to you all." He said, with a smile that was forced, but they couldn't see the force behind that smile. They all smiled back and answered his greeting. Some referred to him as Prince, while some as Acp.

He excused himself, and he hadn't taken more than five steps when his phone beeped and he viewed the message, it was from Umma. 'You should go and congratulate Zubair, All eyes are on you, Al-mustapha. Don't forget to smile and look genuine, okay?' He looked back at her after reading the message and she squinted her eyes at him with an expression that spoke her plea, and he nodded his head silently before he walked over to where Zubair was seated. All adorned in a beautiful royal attire.

He smiled and shook his hand, "Congratulations, brother. I pray you'll be able to do something better with this position. But don't forget, I won't hesitate to nag you if you're caught in a crime scene." He laughed, the kind of laughter that always unnerved Zubair, but no more. Because he had gotten on the path to having what he had been dreaming of, and he was sure that there was no one that could stop him from doing so. Him, Zubair Muhammad Sa'ad would surely have The Seat Of The Caliphate. And no one can stop him, not even Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido.

Do you find it interesting? Because it's a hot story that'll stir your hearts! Read it on Sofa Novel. Link in the comment section and also on my bio!