BAUCHI STATE, NIGERIA.

Aman listened attentively as the young lady sitting with her back facing him continue to ramble on and on about his parents to the maids. He's asked them not to tell her he is standing right behind her and she should continue to talk, he wants to find out more about what she thinks of him and apparently, he is an idiot and his parents are heartless set of people. Whoever this girl is have some guts even with the childishness marring her voice in thick cocoon.

And did she seriously think he is here to just complete the marriage and leave? How stupid of some women to think marriage is all about consummation and nothing after that. She thinks he is going to sleep with her just like that? He doesn't know why his father forced this girl onto him but he will make sure she gets the message that he is not to be messed with. It's clear he won't be able to take her back to Portland with him, she talks a lot and her mouth doesn't have filter which is something he cannot tolerate in the woman he wanted to marry. Half his life in Portland is practically public, with too much rambles from her and their whole secret will be out with one meeting and good food. She could easily be swayed by some handsome paparazzi, he won't take that.

He watched quietly as she struggled to get on her feet before two of the younger looking maids went to her aid where she tried pushing off their arms but they were adamant and helped her to her feet. She groaned and rubbed her buttock in annoyance then yank herself away from the maids that endorsed her back to her feet. Clearly not needing suffragettes no more.

He could see from her side view that she is glaring at every single one of them, her nose upturned in a bratty childlike way that makes him cringe. His father got him married to a bairn? Is this man really serious right now. He wants him to act like a babysitter or nanny? Or maybe succor her and groom her into what he wants but that is not the root for marriage.

Mahnoor is too into her own pain to remember that she fell down because of the man she's seen behind her looking every inch godlike. She is now filled with wrath that they knew he was standing behind her and she kept on rambling even though she doesn't know who he is. If she will take a wild guess, he is her husband and in all frankness, she does not wish to turn back and look at him again. He is so freaking gorgeous, her words choked in her throat and she lost her balance in process. No one told her he is this handsome.

She shoot them daggers with her eyes before murmuring in a quiet voice that should sound threatening but she sounded like a cartoon anime. "You girls are traitors, I hate all of you. Why didn't you tell me there is someone behind me?"

Ummi was the one to answer in a low voice as she pushed her head closer to hers. "He gestured that we shouldn't. I'm sorry."

Mahnoor gritted her teeth some more, the guy is also a lunatic from the looks of it. What did she expect though? He is Zubairu Ajuji's son which means his father's blood run through his veins. "Is he the husband, Aman?"

Nana looked bemused and amused at the same time. So Mahnoor doesn't know how her husband looks like at all? What sort of family is the Ajuji's that they won't show her the picture of the man she is married to for a year now? Nevertheless, she gave an answer happily. "He is the one and only Aman Zubairu Ajuji, your hubby."

Mahnoor straightened at that and counted to ten because this is going to happen and she won't stop it from doing so. Her heart in staccato, cacophony ringing in her ears.

She's never seen her husband, she doesn't know him so there is no way she is going to let this chance slip off her fingers. She will meet him today and if he is not careful, earn an earful from her for keeping her waiting for more than five hours. What was he thinking anyway? Why didn't he come straight here after his arrival? Maybe just greet her and leave but he didn't, neither did he send any message. The entire Ajuji family are stampeding over her, a cessation is to be stamped.

She is not kvetching needlessly but it's a fact. The clothes she is wearing is awfully uncomfortable, squeezing her thighs and knees together like sardine in can. And then the makeup she had to do just because the man is coming only for him to fold her hands. Instead of ruining the couch, she's ruined her head tie with the whole foundation and all those colorful stuff she's applied on her face without having any knowledge on how to use them. She wanted to look good for him.

Slowly, she meandered around to feast on him only to be met with the view of his white shirt and robust chest, she frowned at that. Where is his head? Then she remembered, she is a short person and almost every human she's met in her entire life is taller than her so she raise her head and tilted it to the side, craning her neck in process. She gasped, full gasp with the sound emitting from her mouth and her lips hanging agape like a fish. He is so huge! He is like a giant in front of her, no cap at all.

Blinking twice, she gulped down. This man can easily break her into two if she is not careful so there is no way she won't apologize and swallow back her words next time. What the hell. His arms are so huge, the size of her thighs joined together and she is not exaggerating at all. Even his wrist is bigger than her own arm so how the hell is she supposed to be with this man as his wife when she is just a midget? God, their parents didn't tell her she was going to marry such gigantic person. A hulk.

If she is going to guess his height in a small tiny lie, then he is six feet with few more inches ahead but he can easily tower over six feet. She cannot judge heights since she is not above the ground herself, that's never been her concern.

"Okay what." She murmured beneath her breath, not knowing where to start from.

He has dark brown eyes unlike her sable ones, droopy straight nose and heavy lower lip. She sighed, everything about him is the opposite of hers. His skin cool honey, growing beard taking over the sides of his face but all that aside, there is a glint in his eyes that shook her nerves and got her stomach knotted in flutters. He is wicked, she doesn't know what type of atrocity he possess but that thing in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. So unlike the meaning of his name that compress of everything that has to do with peace, safety and protection. Who is going to protect her from him though?

Aman Zubairu Ajuji, is the complete opposite of her dream lover. There is nothing kind, sensitive, or remotely boyish about him. He was a predator who undoubtedly liked to toy with his prey before killing it. Staring at the empty space where he had once stood, Mahnoor thought of how Aman had looked in the Amanda teardrop tiered Smokey glasses. He is so tall and lean, his body a perfect frame for elegantly simple clothes that provided a minimum of distraction from his tawny handsomeness. His brown eyes glittered like rare velvet from the necklace of an ancient empress. Beautiful eyes that showed no emotion when he smiled. The smile itself was enough to steal the breath from one's body, the sensuous, cynical mouth, the flash of white teeth... Oh, Aman was a dazzling man. And well he knew it.

He is currently sitting down on one of the chairs in the dining room, silently waiting for the maids to serve him while watching Mahnoor with perusal that makes her skin tingle. She is still staring with her mouth agape and even though she wants to stop herself from doing so, she cannot seem to put a cessation to it.

He is not about to talk so she gave a sarcastic smile, forgetting about his size since he is now sitting down on a chair and not towering over her. "Stop staring at me like that. You can at least greet your wife and apologize for being late."

Gasps echoed in the quiet room from the maids and she wanted to hit each of their heads on the wall behind them, dramatic fools. She is serious, she is annoyed and furious at him. She's loved the image of her husband in her head but after meeting him, a few things changed but it doesn't mean she hates him now, she still likes him. The man she's pictured in her head is so perfect, not by looks but his personality and charisma but this man here, he is ruthless. She's heard he is a footballer from Nana and nothing more about him again.

Aman watched her without interest before gesturing that she turn to look at something behind her and she confusedly did only to let out a shriek and fall back on him. How did that happen? She cannot say but she found herself sitting on his laps with her hands clutching his shirt for support. She sat up few seconds later realizing what she's done and got back to her feet. On God, what was that? She went to the mirror again and looked at her face then shrieked some more but didn't fall off.

"What on earth is this? Who's this ghost here?" She whispered to herself in French, her hand flying to her chest to have her heartbeat regulated.

Her makeup is smudged! No, smudged is an understatement, it is wrecked beyond repair or recognition. The whole concealer and foundation —something she didn't even apply well to begin with— are flying all over her face and the eyeshadow she applied atop her eyes pierced down to her cheeks in smithereens. All in all, she looks like a wreck and started to feel like one too. Her head tie is placed against her shoulder, her dark tightly curly hair that was tied in classic twist bun fell loosely behind her back and some stubborn ones standing straight. What sort of fate is this?

She took her head tie and started cleaning her face vigorously, that is when she noticed that the maids are not there anymore and she is alone with Aman who continue to watch her like she is meant to entertain him, disregarding the food in front of him.

She scowled, she is hating all the maids in the house now for not telling her about her state. Do they hate her? Or they want him to divorce her thinking she is a crazy woman? Maybe one of them loves him and is forming her own ally? She frowned, they are all not interested in Aman from what she's seen but you never know sometimes since they won't tell her about it.

"I'm glad you are okay but can you be a bit more tidy? You're too pigsty for my liking." He commented dryly, his voice so deep and husky that it vibrated down to her core. Her stomach deepened and fluttered helplessly.

His comment circled back to her cranium again and she widened her eyes in irritation. No one has ever annoyed her with few words like this man in front of her. "It's all because of you! I got ready five hours ago and waited for you and this happened. I won't forgive you for this."

Instead of him to feel a little guilt or at least act remorseful, he smiled showing his straight teeth and shrugged then went back to eating. "I didn't ask you to wait for me."

Mahnoor closed her eyes and breathed through her nose to calm herself down, he is not worth it. She chanted in her head then twirled around and left the dining room to her room while grumbling. Yes, she is not a neat freak but that doesn't mean she is a dirty person. Her room looks like hurricane has ran over it currently but still, she is not that untidy. He definitely looks like a neat freak in his well pressed white polo shirt and pants.

Why is she slowly starting to hate the man she loves? Is that how it happens or this is just a special case for her?

The next day, Mahnoor yawned and stretched on her bed with yet another smile across her lips. She's always been a happy person and nothing can change that. She frowned at the sight of her room is disarray, the clothes she wore the day before on the floor beside her bed, the head tie thrown against the couch at the end of the room. Her bathroom slippers in the middle of the room along with few makeup items and a plate of mango. And that is because Ummi arranged her room the day before, look at her now all untidy.

She sighed and went to the en-suite to bath while thinking about her husband. Where is he? Is he in his room or already eating breakfast? She is definitely not a morning person and it's already eleven in the morning.

Seeing as she is not going to pray, she switched off her alarm and slept like a baby in a new bassinet. She cannot waste time unnecessarily doing nothing in the morning, she'd rather sleep it off and face the day much later so it will be shorter. That's something she's thought about after coming to Nigeria without a husband waiting for her like they've promised.

And now that he is back, it is still going to be the same because he doesn't like her and think of her as an untidy and immature girl. She scowled, that man should really not get under her nerves today because she won't take it lightly. How could your own husband of one year not compliment you after seeing you for the first time?

The thing shocked her for real even though she shouldn't be too galvanized since she doesn't know him personally and even the maids couldn't say anything much about him. Her phone is just there to call her friends and parents there in Niger and there is always free WiFi in the house and endless credit in her phone, so Nana who is the phone monger amongst all the maids, she browsed about Aman Zubairu Ajuji the footballer and read about him but they didn't know how to get his photo and capitulated.

She is glad though. She wouldn't have been able to sleep for many nights thinking about such handsome hunk as her husband. Her sleep the night before was filled with dreams that Aman can not be. The person in her dream was gentle, charismatic, patient, not mocking and have no evil glint in his eyes but the same face as Aman. She awoke in the middle of the night with a start, her head aching then she lie back down with few more supplications. That man will keep invading her dreams now, she will start reading another book to keep him away from her.

Putting a cessation on the rain shower head, she stepped out of the cubicle. Draining her body with a fresh towel, she left the en-suite and made her way to the walk-in closet to haunt for something to wear. She won't wear anything that will make her uncomfortable today, not even for her mocking evil husband. She grunted, even feel her muscles contrasting at just the remembrance of how much discomfort she's felt yesterday waiting for him. The damned man.

First she sat down on the vanity stool and took the hair stretcher from one of the drawers, attach it to the closest socket. Making sure her tight curly and taut hair is as straight as she could drag it, she switched off the hair iron and stood up. She's seen so many new things here in Nigeria unlike her country. It's not like her country is a village but things here are a bit more clear and technology is pretty good unlike the place she stays in Agadez. They won't be called village in the least just that her parents are not rich, just around average with their one kid. But after coming to Nigeria, so many things have changed.

She yanked away an obsidian leggings and sling her slim short legs inside then hunted for something to wear atop her bra. Beaming at the sight of her favorite jean-jacket, she wrestled into a porcelain tank top before adding the denim jean jacket on top. She twirled in front of the floor length mirror admiring herself. Next, she tied an onyx small chiffon veil on her head, bringing out the bun she's made in the middle of her head. She sighed, how she wished that's what she's done yesterday instead of wearing something that pushed all her limbs together and elicited muscle cramps all over her body.

She left the room bouncing on her feet and went to the kitchen, the first place she always goes to every blessed morning. The maids are bustling with work yet again but she went to the strainer she can see from the door glowing with yellow which means she will be eating Irish potatoes today with any other thing, it'll do. She popped a few inside her mouth and chew noisily, the girls only turn to greet her and continue working.

"Why are you girls all worked up?" She questioned with mouthful of yellow Irish potatoes, her eyes gleaming at the joy of eating. Food is blessing.

Nana answered her. "Sir Aman is yet to eat anything so we are making breakfast for two."

"Can you make it three?" A voice came from the doorway and all of them put a cessation to what they are doing and yaw to look at the person that's just intruded their conversation and that too with a different voice that doesn't belong to their master.

The maids flushed at the sight of Asad looking all handsome and charming in his suit while Mahnoor dropped the last piece of potato on the floor as she gazed right back at the face she's seen in her dreams. Yes, without the wicked gleam, charming personality, soft and boyish facial features unlike her husbands but they look awfully alike at the same time only that you can differentiate one from the other if you look closely.

"What?" She murmured, her mouth set in moue.