30: second game

She didn't wait for him, the moment she was done talking, she walked out of the hall and came directly home. Once she had set her eyes on the two heap of sands, she smiled truimphantly at herself. Now, she would be at peace, knowing their deaths didn't go in vain. She knew the choas she had created in the palace wasn't a safe place for her to stay in, and today, she needed to give herself a treat. To dance, drink and eat good food. Because today, she had finally avenged.

She didn't care wether Mama Fulani was going to do something for her or Ammi, all she knew and was happy for was, she was successful at hurting Al-mustapha to the extent he hadn't even hurt her. She was sure this was the dirtiest secret in his life, and he had never imagined someone to find out, not even her, or the whole of the royal members. She directly went to shower and when she was out, she had seen thousands of missed calls from different numbers, she knew they were all wanting to know more about the story so they could explain further to the ones that weren't able to attend the gathering.

She didn't pick the calls that were incoming and waited until the calls ended before she switched off her phone and threw it into her bag. She put on a soft and slow music in her music, got ready while dancing to the waves of sucess, the fresh waft of revenge. How refreshing the air was, how amazing the scent was, how heavenly it tasted. It was worth the wait, worth the pain she had been enduring for long. She called the kitchen and ordered for a cake slice to be brought to her with a bottle of champagne-Alcohol free. She wished wine wasn't haram in Islam, because she would have taken it due to the happiness she was feeling today.

It was brought to her, and suddenly she felt the air in her room was too short for her, she felt like suffocating. As if the happiness in her heart had taken more than to a 50% of the air in the room. She took the try and walked to the pool side. She sat down on an ottoman and watched as the sun set beautifully into the sky while she sipped her drink and munched on her cake slice. It was beautiful, life was indeed beautiful.

She wondered when Jannah would be back, even though she knew where she was and who she was together with, she couldn't help but feel protective. If it wasn't because she didn't want to switch on her phone and have calls running her battery to death, she would have called Aliyu and asked him to bring her back home, it was evening already. She began humming a music in her mind while she thought about a case she was given at the court, Al-mustapha already forgotten. Because who cared about someone that had long been burned to ashes?!

❀

Well, his mind was blank, he had nothing to think about. But talk about his heart, it was in the most storming turmoil he had ever felt, not even when Alex died. He could clearly remember the feeling then, even though it had taken years, because he haven't had another after that, next was this. What he felt while she was describing everything, telling anyone. He didn't feel like plucking his heart out himself until she was telling the symptoms of who a psychopath, because even he himself was convinced that he was one.

Hell, who was have denied? She showed his hospital record since when he was 12, and by Allah that didn't look fabricated. No one would dare fabricate something this huge and how it up in a royal gathering, something aimed at the royal prince. He was confused, utterly confused. He had never met his doctor, but sometimes he had spoken to her not more than five times when he was a teenager. It was always Ummah that acted as a conveyer of messages between them. She told the Doctor how he was coping, the changes and the Doctor told Ummah was he should do and Ummah would tell him.

Hell, he didn't even know the Doctors name, all he knew what that she was a female Neuropsychologist, Ummah once told him that. And he could clearly remember Ummah telling him that no one in the whole world knew about him being a psychopath, only her, him, and his doctor-which Ummah was certain would rather die than tell anyone about him being one. Then what happened? How did Fatima Zarah knew? Just how did she find out? What more did she know and kept to get back at him with? Because if she had something, which he wasn't sure that would be something more huge than this, because he had never had a dirty secret apary from this-nothing would be more destructive than this.

He was in Ummah's private living, alone together with her. She was crying, even though he had read her facial expression before that she was angry and shocked, but now she was crying bitterly. He hated the days, or months, or the whole year Ummah spent tutoring him about facial expressions. It was so tough that he spent all his time together with Ummah. Whenever his Doctor sent in a new way of reading a facial expression about a certain feeling, Ummah would be excited to teach him. And when she had that expression on her face and he mistook it, she became so angry that he began to wonder why she was angry. It was so touch, consistent that he had no choice but to know all facial expressions that his Doctor sent by heart.

Expect humans came along with new ones, and he was sure the last facial expression Fatima Zarah had before she got off the stage was something he wasn't taught and had never seen before. An amalgamation of a few emotions that even as he raked his brain to come to a conclusion to what she was feeling, he couldn't. Because that was something anew to him.

Ummah walked into the bathroom, washed up her face before she came back and sat close to him. She took his hands in hers and tried to smile at him, but she failed. "I don't want you to let this bother you, okay? This is a huge stepback, I'm sure they won't accept you being the successor of the throne now, but there are other ways, surely. And for Fatima Zarah, leave her to me, okay?" She bit her lip, it was as if she had recalled that he felt, but not in the way she did.

He was beyond angry, he wanted to hit something to destruction, and that thing had to be Fatima Zarah's face. "Don't ever do something harmful to her, because she'll be calculated now, and everything we do to her that is harmful will be an adding point to how much of a monster that you are, Al-mustapha. I know you're seething within, but just try and hold yourself up, try and be calm."

He heaved a sigh and looked at her with his eyes that had turned to bloodshot due to his excessive anger. "Is it safe outside for me to leave now?" Ummah wished he knew that she needed someone to comfort her now, to tell her that there would be a way out for this. She had told him there was a situation people need comfort, but she didn't want to remind him that now, because it would feel fake if he did. She wanted something genuine, something real and heartfelt. A tear slipped down her cheeks, and she was so sharp at clearing it off.

Al-mustapha stared deeply into her eyes for some minutes, and he could imagine the 15years old him sitting beside her as she told him about situations that humans act and what they expect from the people that were in their lives, or by their sides at the moments. He could clearly remember when she told him about comfort, and all the signs she had mentioned were evident on her face. For once, he wanted to do something for her, eventhough they both knew he wouldn't feel an inch in his heart.

Slowly, he pulled her shaking body to his chest and hugged her. She didn't wait a second before she broke into more tears, she had never felt Al-mustapha on her chest since the day she gave birth to him. Al-mustapha rounded his hands on her back and gave her a mother-son pat on her back, he didn't know if that will soothe her mind and stopped her from crying, because whatever it was her tears were doing to his heart, he didn't like them.

She spent minutes on his chest before she broke their hug and looked at him while crying her tears, "I'll be fine, okay? I know you aren't going to worry about me, just incase I cross your mind, know that I'm fine. You can go home now, follow the exit at the back, okay? Don't forget what I've told you about Fatima Zarah, control your anger please."

Al-mustapha nodded his head at her and did as she said, he drove silenly home, and today he didn't need to put on the music because there were enough melodies of grief playing by the anger in his mind. He drove into the house and met her resting on the ottoman by the pool side as if she hadn't caused a tsunami in the palace. He wanted to walk past her to his chamber, but something chugged at his heart, and he found himself slowly walking toward her and she didn't even look up to him when she sensed his presence.

He took the glass from the table and poured the remaining contents of the drink on her face, as calmly as he could, even though a storm was raging in his mind. She looked up angrily but chuckled the moment she placed her eyes on his face. Fatima Zarah stood on her feet and stared into his eyes, to give him the chance to read her expression, "I'm looking into your eyes so you could read how happy I am, Psycho-Prince."

He wanted to punch her face so hard until it crumbled and even the mother that gave birth to her wouldn't be able to recognize her when they met, but he remembered what Ummah told him. Even though she spoke to him not as Mama Fulani, he wanted to respect her words. He clenched his fist and stared at Fatima Zarah with a scorching gaze.

Fatima Zarah pointed at his clenched fist, chuckled, before she spoke, "What? Do you want to punch me so hard that I might crumble back to dust? That'll prove to your family what kind of a monster that you are. But mind you, if you lay your hands on me for the second time, I'll make sure the court takes off your police badge on your shoulders, you can't be a police officer, an Acp that assaults his wife. Are you perhaps angry because I won the game? I thought we have another one left? Remember I promised to make you kneel down on your feet on the day you start seeing me as a woman? That game still counts, and goodluck, I pray you win this time; Acp. Al-mustapha Muhammad Maccido." She rolled her eyes furiously at him before she walked off, and she could feel the burning sensation of his look on her back but she didn't look back.

The moment she was out of his sight, Al-mustapha felt his anger trying to bolt out of his chest, and he didn't knew when he crushed the glass he was holding into shards, and some broken pieces stuck into his palm, just like the broken pieces of his heart. The second part of the game, he would surely avenge on that.

It's getting more and more intense o, omo! Hmmm, who do you think will win the second game???

Also, the part 2 is now available on both okadabooks and selar, so y'all that got the part 1 should run and complete your book craving😅😅 I hope it only gets visible to those that comment, sha🥰