---
The next morning, Zainab woke up to find a document on her bedside table—a contract.
She scanned it quickly.
No interference in his business. No emotional involvement. No pregnancy. Separate rooms.
At the end, a signature line:
Yusuf Ibrahim – already signed.
She felt her hands shake as she picked up the pen.
Was this all her life would be? A signed deal?
With a heavy heart, she signed it.
---
Later that day, she was dressed by maids and taken to a charity event. Paparazzi swarmed them the moment they stepped out of the car. Yusuf took her hand, smiled like a perfect husband, and whispered:
"Smile. This is your role now."
Zainab played along—smiled, waved, answered questions. Everyone called them the perfect couple.
But behind closed doors, Yusuf barely looked at her.
One night, she overheard a phone call—Yusuf speaking softly in his office.
> "I married her to protect the family name, nothing more."
Zainab's chest tightened. She backed away quietly before she could hear more.
---
At breakfast the next morning, she stared at her untouched food.
"You should eat," Yusuf said casually, reading a newspaper.
"Why? So I look good for the cameras?" she shot back.
He looked up, surprised at her tone.
"You're smarter than I thought," he said.
She stared back, her voice steady.
"You have no idea who I really am."
That was the first time Yusuf looked at her with curiosity instead of indifference.
And it wouldn't be the last.
---