Chapter 15- .

I crack open the eggs and they sluggishly land in the plate. "Scrambled, boiled or fried?" I ask from the kitchen.

"Why are you making breakfast?" He questions, half shocked.

I drop the frying pan on the wooden counter. "What's that supposed to mean? If you wanna take over the cooking, you can gladly do so."

He scratches the back of his head and mutters, "Go on with it and I prefer fried eggs." He walks back go the living room muttering some words. I toast some slices of bread and made fruit salad. I made his coffee just as he likes it, black coffee. I really don't know how one can enjoy black coffee.

In the past few days, I've had this sudden change. I'm not sure if it's the discussion I had with with his mum or the realisation that I don't act as a wife should, but I'm nicer and in return, he acts a little more matured. Who am I kidding! He's still a pain in the ass, scratch that, in my ass! His maturity comes once in a blue moon.

Atleast, we've gone a day without arguments. I made a promise to his mum to help him become a good Muslim and I promised to be a good wife. But personally, I got tired of our daily fight on even little things. I put the food on a tray and take it to him. He's watching a match between Real Madrid and Barcelona.

"Who do you think is gonna win?" I ask as I place the tray in front of him. He looks at me half surprised but quickly regains himself. "Of course it's Barcelona, do you think that Messi is a joke?"

"So do you think that Bale is just gonna watch you guys win? Dude you have no idea what Real Madrid is capable of."

We start watching and eating our eyes aren't on the food but the TV.

"Let's make a deal, you in?" He blunts.

"About what?"

"If real Madrid wins, I will be your slave for a day and if Barcelona wins, you will be my slave for a day. Unless if you're a scared chicken then-"

"Deal!" I cut him, holding my hand out for a handshake. He smiles and says, "Always looking for ways to touch me."

My face scrunchies in distance while while getting up to leave for the kitchen when I hear the cheers and an evil smile breaks on my lips. "Slave boy!"

He squeezes his lips thin and ignore my call. "Slave boy!" I call again and he responds in a low voice. "Yes."

"I need you to do the dishes." I hand over the dishes to him and he sulks. I watch him go to the kitchen and I walk to my room smiling. I take my bath and change into a long black abaya with dark blue headscarf.

"Aren't you ready yet?" I question, walking into the kitchen. I find him drying his hands with a frown on his lips. Can't he smile sweetly for once, I can make him. I order him to smile and his lips slowly curves into a smile. "I'm set, I will wait for you to get ready, so you can take me to work."

"I haven't eaten." He complains.

"Hurry up."

He raises his brow and shakes his head. "Slave!"

"Alright!" He says and eats before changing into a plain tee and jeans. He tells the chauffeur to take me.

"I told you to take me not him." He collects the car keys with anger and enters the car. "And the door?" I smile evilly at him. He slams the door shut as he steps out and opens my door. I get in and he shuts it close.

The chauffeur who witnessed the show stares at us confusingly. I smile at him and say, "It's a long story." He nods and we drive out. I turn on the radio and Attention by Little Mix blares. He bites his lower lip in annoyance and I increase the volume, singing at the top of my lungs. He clutches the wheels.

"Ladies all across the world, listen up we're looking for recruits. If ya with me, let me see your hands. Stand up and salute..." I stop and get a more exciting idea. Well exciting to me and annoying to him.

"Sing along!" He stops the car and glares at me. "I don't sing." He blunts.

"Well," I sigh. "It was your idea to make that deal and you have to keep your words. I thought that you were a man of his words... Looks like I mistook you. You're just a coward afterall."

His glare deepens and I shrug my shoulders. "I don't care if you're mentally chopping me into pieces, just sing!"

He grits his teeth and slowly muses. "Louder!" I command and he obeys, but it isn't as loud as I want, so I gave the order again. This time, I can hear him clearly and I smile, satisfied with my job. I laugh and join him singing, waving my hands up and messing his perfectly styled hair.

"This isn't cool." He murmurs but it doesn't make him stop.

"Representing all the women.. Salute! Attention... Salute! Attention..."

We get to the company, he steps out and opens my door. I catwalk with a smirk and as he turns to leave, I clear my throat. He looks at me frustrated and I look at my bag. He snatches my bag and briskly walks in. Everyone literally stops when they see him holding my bag. I walk ahead of him and enter his office. He drops my bag on his desk and goes to sit on his chair. I clear my throat again causing him to clench his teeth. "Yes?" I don't reply him but push aside and sit on his chair. "Do my works today."

He storms out and slams the door shut. I smile as I relax on the chair. I bring out my laptop and start watching Dong Yi. A Korean series that absolutely rocks.

Why the hell did I have to make that stupid deal? It's way worst because it's Thursday and I don't have any work except checking on the emoyees. The telephone on Aisha's desk suddenly rings. "Report to my office immediately!" She shouts and cuts the call. I stand up and notice that everyone has being giving me this weird look. But no one dared say a word.

"Omar, get in here right now!" She yells. What's wrong with her? This is so embarrassing. I step into my office and she turns around dramatically. Tapping her fingers on the table.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Just wanted you to know how frustrating it is to yell when you need someone. So you can go, what a view right?" She looks out the glass window. I ignore her and she looks at me from the side of eyes.

"Yes." I murmur.

"You can leave." I leave the office, anger overtakes me. No one has ever treated me this way, but here she's treating me like a servant. Before I get to seat on the chair, another call from Aisha comes in. I drag myself to my office which is obviously hers for the day.

"I'm craving for some fries and burger."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

She twitches her brows and says, "I want you to get me some and when you're back, type the files on my desk and get it printed. Understood?"

"When this is over, you're dead!" I roar and storm out.

Am I going too far with this? Nah! I've to use this opportunity. So next step is prayer then shopping. Then dinner, cleaning, prayer and sleep. Atleast I'm off for a day.

It's over an hour and he isn't back. Is he trying to get me back?

A sudden knock startles me and I answer. A man I recognise from the accounting department runs in, short of breath. He takes a deep breath and looks me with fear and horror written all over his face.

"He had an..a-a-accident!"