After finding her daughter playing at the backyard, she rushed to get her off the dirty clothes in the guest room she was given personally so she could use whenever she is in the villa. She's stacked few drawers with her baby's clothes just in case, situations like this one.

Before she gave birth to Imara, she hardly visits the room because there was absolutely no use doing so but now that she's got an adventurous little princess, the castle is her limit.

"Why are you so rough, Imara?" She chided her three year old daughter, dusting off mud and dog's hair all over her baby girl but that isn't working, the clothes needs to be changed.

With a suspire and loud gurgles from happy Imara, she removed the carob slip dress from her small body. Imara was quick to leave the bed to play around the room only in her panties. Jannah almost groaned, it's going to be hard catching that active three year old. She loves it when you keep following her around but Jannah lacks that strength today.

She removed a small indigo circle skirt from one of the wardrobes, a stone t-shirt to go with it. Instead of running after the little girl all around the room, she sat down on the bed and waited for her to come back since the door is locked and she won't be able to leave the room. She'll notice that and return herself. She's got no choice but come back to her mother to seek for help with the large door that won't open for her.

And few minutes later, she came bounding with her hair all over the place which was neatly tamed just a while back. She's got this long hair that Jannah have paucity of knowledge where it came from. Probably from her father's side because Jannah's hair isn't that silky or smooth with amazing waves that curl around her head, nape and forehead. Jannah's hair is anything but that. She's got natural thick hair but fortunate for her, it is soft and goes through comb like water.

"Mama, door." Imara complained with a pout, her pink lower lips pushed down and her eyes downwards to complete her bratty look.

She is as cute as a button with her father's golden tan olive skin, his matching dignified and refined straight aquiline nose, their heavy lower lips and small upper one with dimples —which she's noticed once when he pressed his lips together while he was thinking unconsciously— by each side of their faces. It's uncanny and annoying how much alike they look while she's got nothing but her brows, nails and toes.

Weird she's noticed those things? She was determined and vehement to find something like hers in her daughter.

Smiling, she picked her daughter off the floor and busied herself adorning her with the aforementioned outfit. Imara kept wiggling away but Jannah was used to that, she followed her all around the king sized bed without breaking a sweat then it was all done.

She carried a comb from the vanity table and surfed through her baby's hair, something she hates more than anything in her life but she needs to look presentable and that hair that she cannot leave alone will always get her unpleasantness.

She coiffured her onyx hair and did this side pony that never seize to make her daughter look cuter. "Now you look more like my Imara. Where was the other one again?" She asked her daughter fully knowing she doesn't know the answer to that.

"Mama, door. I want door." She repeated impatiently trying to tug at the new made pony but a stern look from her mother brought a cessation to the tugs and her fingers became lax.

Jannah place her down on the bed and went to the mirror to look at herself. She is going back to her own home now to make her husband something to eat when he comes back. She heard he is coming back today from a long trip abroad, again, zero knowledge about it. The news always comes from her mother-in-law as she is the only one that knows about her son's whereabouts then his business partners.

It's not like she is complaining about that, she isn't. She completes her marital duties in every way possible by doing all he wants her to do. They don't talk personally to one another, do have sex once in a while and talk about Imara's future here and there. She has always been the one to start conversations about the little girl seeing how extremely reserved and calm her husband is. He talks really less when it is not business related.

And she is also a very shy person which is a bad combination of couple, she doesn't mind. She thinks he is doing her a favor after being rejected by many men from her past, he is heaven sent. She knew her husband is rich but just doesn't know exactly how rich he is and never bothered finding out. She is always within her lane, never plan on crossing that little line drawn.

She's got no problem since she has her daughter, nice food to eat and an amazing bed to sleep on. She just love her life like that, no complicating it with her husband's affairs. What he does outside their home mean nothing to her, as long as he will respect her when he comes back from wherever. She is not saying he is not loyal, she just wants to keep things the way they are.

Now looking at herself in the mirror, she realized that she's gained so many pounds since she came to Abuja four years back married to Adnan Ibrahim Attahir. She looks more radiant, lustrous and beatific. She won't call herself beautiful but she is not ugly too and she loves her dark skin to death. That is something she's never been insecure about in her life, she cannot be.

Dark skinned girls are few now in the world because everyone wants to be fair whether by machine, creams, injection or just anything, so being dark should be appreciated. Especially if you love what God has given you.

Her Nubian nose, close set protruding-almost-Asian eyes just above it and a little up sat her well curved dark brows that always gets attention because of its amazing shape and full hair there. Down to her Rubina full lips, something she adore too about herself because whenever she smiles, it makes her entire face more pretty and show the small white rabbit teeth beneath.

Presently, she is dressed in an expensive Swiss lace sewn into this amazing mauve gown that tightened around her bosom but flared down the floor in princess style. She's tied her head in a turban, the only one she knows how to do that will be pushed down below her nape. It makes her look older than her age but that is all she can get, she cannot do any other one. And besides, she still looks pretty in her eyes.

There are more clothes in her walk-in closet than she would want to know. When she was first shown to her room and the closet, she would've sworn it was a luxurious shopping mall but they reassured her that that place is just a walk-in closet which will keep changing after every year so she can move along with the trend. She refused to wear most of the clothes because they are either too tight, flimsy or just look too rich to be worn by her so she's got lots of clothes.

At home, she wears an outfit she's marked as her home uniform. Just a wrapper and brown t-shirt that has seen better days. She only dress up when she is coming down to see her mother-in-law every Friday. There is a driver always waiting for her by eleven in the morning and will be ready to leave around four in the afternoon. She likes her mother-in-law so she looks forward to each Friday. She's got no one in Abuja, all her friends and family are in Bauchi State.

Imara's insistent tug on her gown made her sigh and turn to pick the girl up. It is time to leave and she isn't praying so they can hit the road now. "We are going home now, Imara. No going to those dogs."

Imara's eyes brimmed with tears understanding what her mother just said. "No puppy home. I don't want home. No puppy."

Jannah shushed her daughter easily, placing playful kisses all over the girl's face that got her giggling reluctantly. It always works. "Don't be a baby. We'll come back soon if we leave now, hmm?"

Imara gave a sullen nod and lie back down on her mother's shoulder. She can be bratty but she is also a sweetheart at the same time. She knows when her mother wants her to obey and when she can bend her principles for her, they work as a perfect team. Not all the time though. Children cannot always be promising.

Jannah left the guest room, closing it softly behind her as she adjust her hijab around her. Oh, she's got more veils in her closet but she's never worn any only to tie it around her head while she is at home. They are so flimsy and she cannot work with it. It keeps falling down her shoulders so she stopped trying, anything that will make her uncomfortable is not welcomed.

The sounds of laughter and happy voices drifted from the living room where Jannah had left her mother-in-law with her guest. With her head downcast, she entered the living room with a small taslim. She wouldn't have disturbed them but she needs to go home and get something going on before her husband comes back. He should be here anytime soon as she cannot leave him hungry.

Hajiya Rahma noticed her instantly. "Ah, Jannah, come sit with us."

Jannah shook her head with a small smile on her lips. "I'd love to but we have to be on our way. You said he is coming back today so..."

"Oh, that's right. It's already four? Wow, time flies. Till next—" her words were cut short when a voice from behind Jannah interrupted her.

"Assalamu Alaikum" The sound of his voice dark, chilled, controlled and seemingly emanating from the sunniness behind her, unnerved Jannah to such a degree that she very nearly dropped her daughter. Like always, it makes her insides quiver.

"Dada!" Imara exclaimed in a loud voice as she wiggled out of her arms in a record time reaching her father who lowered to her height and pick her up.

Jannah turned around to behold her decidedly handsome man, her husband, appearing taller than usual in the confines of the room. Dark, coolly confident, bloodcurling guarded and as unpredictable as a force of nature. Her pulse fastened and she suddenly became breathless, her toes curling within the confines of her jet black socks.

He's always got that reaction from her all the time.

She watched as he exchanged pleasantries with his daughter, the only person he is free with. He is not even that sociable with his mother, only Imara could bring that side of his and normally, behind the confines of his room. She's never seen them like this with her eyes only the sounds of her daughter's laughter. They connect in ways she cannot think of but here she is finally seeing them with her bare eyes.

She heard that Lina girl gasp, she also doesn't know. Yeah, her marriage with Adnan has been a secret because he wanted that and have no problem getting her silence because who is she going to tell that she is married to Adnan Ibrahim Attahir and they will believe her? Yeah, right. No one!

"Mommy, she is his wife?" Lina asked in a tone that both amused Jannah and irritated her, from behind her in a quiet whisper but she caught it, she shouldn't waste her breath even Adnan would hear.

Her focus went back to her husband and daughter, they've finished talking and she is now touching his one day old beard with her hand. Jannah went forward to collect his computer bag but he shook his head in no so she bow her head and greeted him as usual. Like any other good wife which he answered in his usual reserved way.

It was so quiet and awkward in the room after that. She wants to collect her daughter and leave the house immediately but she is so nervous, she cannot ask him to give her the baby. He did that after bidding his daughter goodbye and promising to see her soon then went to his mother to greet her.

Jannah suspired then bid them adieu again —Lina is staring dumbly at both Adnan who's ignored her existence and Jannah— and left.