My Billionaire Wife

Abrar pov.

I sat on my desk as the sound of Mr. Ali’s request weighed heavily on my mind.

This was becoming way more serious than I expected, I know I might have suggested I formally married Zoya because I was so sure she would never agree to something like that. Her harsh words were clear proof of that, they were still stuck with me as my head I tried not to think about it too much it still resonated with me.

I was already tangled up in a facade marriage with her, with her insisting she sign a contract stating our temporary marriage while she continues to stay in my house but that just feels immoral, and besides I don’t know how long this facade will continue. The thought spun around in my head like a whirlwind, leaving me feeling dizzy and disoriented.

I am not the most religious person out there but I just know it was wrong and it was not like I was a statue. Zoya was a very attractive girl who had curves in the right places and a very seductive and cute appearance. I would be a fool not to admit she was drop-dead gorgeous.

“Hey man are you not going to clock out, are you enjoying the office with the air-conditioning? ” Kaif teased, standing beside my desk as he leaned closer to my desktop to see what I was looking at.

“Hmmm, you are staring at nothing, what is wrong with you man?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Nothing, come on let go,” I said, grabbing my bag as we clocked out of the office.

It was still quite early, it was not fully dark and, to be honest, I was still getting used to clocking out before it got super dark when I worked at the labor department we usually stayed till around ten pm, most time we stay overnight, it was a totally different lifestyle

“Rushing home?” Kaif teased, with a smirk on his face as we walked to the bus stop.

“When will you wash that dirty brain of yours, I owe you a drink don’t I” I said as I directed him to our favorite spot where we usually hang out together.

“Oh yes you do,” he said as he skipped beside me as we walked down to the stall.

I have known Kaif for quite some years and he is the only friend I can really rely on.

It was getting late now, but I was not too enthusiastic about going home as I did not know how I was going to face Zoya and tell her about her father’s wish, or could it be that she already knew, she met him in his office after all.

“So man, how is it like to be married to someone like Zoya, of that caliber?” Kaif said as he dug into his kebab with his coconut drink.

“Well, nothing special only that it is not an easy ride but we will ride it through,” I said trying to look optimistic, but I couldn’t help but recall the words of Sir Ali.

“You are keeping something from me man, I just feel it first you always tell me everything suddenly you spring up with the boss’s only daughter saying you guys are married. I smell something fishy” Kaif said, looking at me with his brows raised in a questioning manner.

Kaif had always been observant, it was a trait I was most envious of. He could easily detect something and he could easily read me. He always said although people see me as a tough guy he knew who I really was inside and he really did. We became formed because he saw me in an ease nobody else has, and it broke my heart that I was lying to him.

“You and your suspicions, it all happened so fast I fell in love,” I said, trying to dissuade his questions

“Hmm, if you say so Mr fall in love but I hope you remember what love did to you the last time,” he said, eating his meal like he did not say something that shook me up.

“Don’t even bring that up” I warned, as my past love story was not something I wanted to revisit.

“If you say so, Mr,” he said, raising his hands up in the air in resignation.

I walked down to my house, the lights were on which indicated someone was home. I knew I had to bring the topic up for discussion but I did not know where to start.

My house had always been my safe zone and now I had to share it with something, the person who made me become like this and made my situation this complicated.

“Welcome back,” Zoya said, acknowledging my presence as I walked into the house.

I nodded my head at her in response, as I quickly went to my room and then took a quick shower which was when I realized that I had not fixed the shower head, I was so occupied I totally forgot.

I quickly took my bath and dressed up.

“Have you eaten dinner?” I asked her as she was still focused on what she was watching on the television which happened to be a movie series if I was right.

“No” she replied, in a cint cold tone.

“Why?” I asked, confused because it was way past ten p. m. and she had not eaten which was not good.

“Well because I thought we had an agreement that I would handle the provisions and you would handle the cooking, that was what we agreed on,” she said, looking at me with fury in her eyes.

She was such an angry person and sometimes it was frustrating having to deal with her. “First of all, I did not agree to that agreement, you were the only one who decided to implement it” I replied.

“Whatever, you never agree to anything, can you just make me dinner already” she said, rolling her eyes at me.

She was such a rude person and if it was my past self I would have thrown her out of my sight, I would not even want to associate with the likes of her and her. I am tolerating everything for a reason I did not know myself.

“I am not your slave if you are hungry go and fix yourself something,” I said in annoyance as I decided to walk back to my room when I heard a loud rumble.

I turned around to see Zoya clutching her stomach with a frown on her face, it was evident that she was in pain, and the sounds her stomach was making, only proved my suspicions right.

“Argh,” I said in frustration as I walked to the kitchen and decided to make a pasta dish with the shrimp in the fridge.

I had worked in the kitchen for a restaurant as a cleaner as well as an assistant chef so I knew my way around the kitchen.Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

I quickly made the dish, while she continued to ignore me.

“Here Is your dish,” I said, placing the place of spaghetti, before her, expecting a grateful expression from her but she just grabbed the plate and began hobbling the food without a thank you.

She sure does get on my nerves. “Enjoying it huh?” I asked with a ting of frustration in my voice, but was only replied with silence as she focused all her attention on her food.

The way she was gobbling the food, it was a clear sign that she was very hungry and to be honest I felt bad. Zoya had lived a nourished and provisioned life all through her life, so all this was a little bit new for her which I completely understand.

She quickly finished her meal taking the plate back to the kitchen as she quickly did the dishes without still looking at me.

“So am I not going to get a thank you?” I inquired.

“Thank you,” she said, looking at me with a soft expression on her face, her eyes showing sincerity which shocked me as I felt some flutters in my chest.

Her soft response was so unexpected. “That is new” I mumbled to myself.

“You said?” She asked as she finished cleaning the last dish, setting it gently and neatly on the plate rack.

“Nothing, I heard you went to the office today,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied, cleaning her head with a dry towel.

Could she already know of her father’s proposal, I am very much aware of how much she did not want to have anything to do with a real marriage with me although we will still not be legally married but going through all the traditional rites was something that felt too personal.

“What did you discuss about?” I asked. She stared at me skeptically for a while before she replied. ” He was just asking me to resume work”.

I nodded my head in response. “Why the questions? Do you have anything to tell me” she asked as she walked back to the shelves, picking up the remote control and searching through the channels.

“Yes,” I replied, my heart beating loudly within my chest.

“What is it?” She asked, turning her attention to my direction.

“I met your father today and he told me something,” I said, this seemed to have caught her attention. “What did he tell you?” She asked

Okay, I was going to say it. I knew hell was loose, but I knew I needed to tell her.

“Your father wants us to get married, to do the traditional rites of your wedding. That is the only way he will fully accept our marriage” I said

Zoya stared at me for a few seconds, her facial expression changing from confusion to disbelief.

“What?” she responded.