The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across my room, but I barely noticed. My mind was racing, my stomach in knots. Tonight was the event—the one Rami’s father had insisted we attend. Hosted by the crown prince himself. The crown prince. Just the thought made my palms sweat. This wasn’t just any event. It was the kind where every glance, every word, every step would be scrutinized. And I? I was not ready.I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my closet as if it held the answers to all my problems. What does one even wear to something like this? Something elegant, obviously, but not too flashy. Sophisticated, but not intimidating. I groaned, running a hand through my hair. This was impossible. I needed help. Professional help.I grabbed my phone and dialed my stylist. She picked up on the second ring, her voice calm and reassuring, as always. “Dema, darling, what’s the emergency?”“I need you. Right now. It’s the event tonight—the one with the crown pri
As we walked into the grand living room of Rami’s parents’ house, I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The air was thick with anticipation, and the room was filled with familiar faces—Rami’s mother, his uncles, cousins, all seated in a semi-circle, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. Rami’s hand was warm in mine, a silent reassurance as we took our seats among the family. I glanced at him, and he gave me a small, encouraging smile, though I could tell he was just as nervous as I was. Something big was about to happen.Mr. Al Nassar, Rami’s father, stood at the center of the room, his posture commanding yet calm. He cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on him. My heart raced as I waited for him to speak, my mind racing with possibilities. What could this be about? The big Event we had attended with the prince just days ago still lingered in my thoughts—the grandeur, the conversations, the unspoken tension. I had felt then t
I was at my desk, engrossed in work, when my phone buzzed. It was Rami. “Dema, can you come to my office for a moment?” he asked, his tone calm but with a hint of something I couldn’t quite place. Curiosity piqued, I grabbed my notebook and headed over.When I walked into Rami’s office, I was surprised to see his father, Mr. Al Nassar, sitting across from him. He looked as distinguished as ever, his presence commanding the room. Rami stood up as I entered, gesturing for me to join them. “Dema, my father just stopped by. I thought you should come and greet him.”I smiled politely, extending my hand. “Mr. Al Nassar, it’s so nice to see you.”He stood, shaking my hand with a warm smile. “Dema, always a pleasure. I just came by to thank you both for attending the event the other day. You both behaved so gracefully and I couldn’t be prouder.” He turned to me, his gaze softening. “And you, my dear, everyone was complimenting your beauty, grace, and class. You truly stood out.”I felt my che
The morning sun filters through the windows of Rami’s beach house, casting a warm glow over the chaos we’ve created. Balloons, streamers, and boxes of decorations are scattered everywhere. I’m holding a string of fairy lights, trying to untangle them, while Rami paces the room, his phone pressed to his ear. His jaw is tight, and I can tell by the way he’s muttering under his breath that his father isn’t answering—again.“He’s not picking up,” Rami says, finally lowering the phone. His voice is calm, but I can see the frustration in the way his shoulders tense. “I’ve called him five times already. I even texted him. He knows it’s her birthday. He has to come.”I set the lights down and walk over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “He’ll come, Rami. He has to. It’s your mom. He wouldn’t miss this.” I say it with more confidence than I feel. His father has always been... unpredictable. But today isn’t about him. It’s about her.Rami sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t g
It's 3 AM, and I still can't sleep. Tomorrow is my wedding day, and I'm so nervous that my stomach won't stop grumbling. I only have five hours to try to get some sleep, but I just can't relax. My whole life was turned upside down in a matter of a few weeks. Thirty days ago, I was a homeless girl living in my car with no job. Then I heard that a well-known company was looking for a secretary. I was not expecting to get the job; surprisingly, I passed, and they hired me immediately.After a couple of days, my boss called me into his office. I found him scrolling on his phone. When he noticed that I was standing before him, he showed me what he was looking at—it was an article about him. I've seen many articles like this; they keep spreading rumors about him. My boss is the young CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world, so it's not shocking that many news agencies are desperate to learn the tiniest piece of information about him. On my first day, I heard them saying that
"Excuse me?" he asked as he turned to me with a perplexed look on his face. I tried to compose myself. I took a deep breath and said, "I can't marry you like this. I have no guarantees for my future. I can't waste time with you knowing that you might just throw me away when you're done with me!"He rolled his eyes at me and let out a loud sigh. "Seriously? I know what you're doing. You're trying to take advantage of the situation that everyone is here. What is it that you want? Is the four million not enough for you? Do you want me to pay you in advance?"I shook my head and said, "No, it's not about the money. I need to feel that I can trust you. I don't even know you, and you want me to just marry you? Give me your word that you won't just abandon me when this is over. I don't want to be treated like this, to be ordered around all the time!"We fell silent for a few seconds, then he spoke up and said, "Okay, let's make a new deal. I'll give you a monthly allowance so you don't have
The soft rays of morning sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, gently coaxing me from my slumber. I stirred, blinking against the brightness as the events of the previous day flooded back—my wedding, the celebration, and the whirlwind of emotions that had accompanied it.As I sat up, still wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, a light knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. The door opened slightly, and one of the maids peeked in with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Rami,” she said cheerfully. “Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”“Thank you,” I replied, my voice still thick with sleep. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and took a moment to gather myself before standing.After a quick shower and changing into a light dress, I made my way downstairs, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries filled the air. Rami was already seated at the grand dining table, his attention divided between his phone and the newspaper spread out before him.“Morning,
I was sprawled on the couch, a Spanish textbook open on my lap, trying to wrap my mind around the difference between "ser" and "estar." Rami had insisted I learn some Spanish and French for our upcoming business trips, and while I appreciated the push, I felt like I was drowning in verb conjugations. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, but it did little to ease the tension coiling in my stomach.Just as I was about to give up and scroll through my phone instead, one of the maids knocked lightly on the door. "Miss Dema, you have a visitor," she said, her tone polite but somewhat cautious.A visitor? I glanced at the clock-who could it be? My heart raced as I pushed myself off the couch, smoothing down my hair and adjusting my shirt. I opened the door, and there she stood.The girl who walked in was stunning-young, rich, and effortlessly stylish, with perfectly tousled hair and a designer outfit that screamed money. She looked like she had j
The morning sun filters through the windows of Rami’s beach house, casting a warm glow over the chaos we’ve created. Balloons, streamers, and boxes of decorations are scattered everywhere. I’m holding a string of fairy lights, trying to untangle them, while Rami paces the room, his phone pressed to his ear. His jaw is tight, and I can tell by the way he’s muttering under his breath that his father isn’t answering—again.“He’s not picking up,” Rami says, finally lowering the phone. His voice is calm, but I can see the frustration in the way his shoulders tense. “I’ve called him five times already. I even texted him. He knows it’s her birthday. He has to come.”I set the lights down and walk over to him, placing a hand on his arm. “He’ll come, Rami. He has to. It’s your mom. He wouldn’t miss this.” I say it with more confidence than I feel. His father has always been... unpredictable. But today isn’t about him. It’s about her.Rami sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t g
I was at my desk, engrossed in work, when my phone buzzed. It was Rami. “Dema, can you come to my office for a moment?” he asked, his tone calm but with a hint of something I couldn’t quite place. Curiosity piqued, I grabbed my notebook and headed over.When I walked into Rami’s office, I was surprised to see his father, Mr. Al Nassar, sitting across from him. He looked as distinguished as ever, his presence commanding the room. Rami stood up as I entered, gesturing for me to join them. “Dema, my father just stopped by. I thought you should come and greet him.”I smiled politely, extending my hand. “Mr. Al Nassar, it’s so nice to see you.”He stood, shaking my hand with a warm smile. “Dema, always a pleasure. I just came by to thank you both for attending the event the other day. You both behaved so gracefully and I couldn’t be prouder.” He turned to me, his gaze softening. “And you, my dear, everyone was complimenting your beauty, grace, and class. You truly stood out.”I felt my che
As we walked into the grand living room of Rami’s parents’ house, I could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The air was thick with anticipation, and the room was filled with familiar faces—Rami’s mother, his uncles, cousins, all seated in a semi-circle, their expressions a mix of curiosity and seriousness. Rami’s hand was warm in mine, a silent reassurance as we took our seats among the family. I glanced at him, and he gave me a small, encouraging smile, though I could tell he was just as nervous as I was. Something big was about to happen.Mr. Al Nassar, Rami’s father, stood at the center of the room, his posture commanding yet calm. He cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. All eyes were on him. My heart raced as I waited for him to speak, my mind racing with possibilities. What could this be about? The big Event we had attended with the prince just days ago still lingered in my thoughts—the grandeur, the conversations, the unspoken tension. I had felt then t
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across my room, but I barely noticed. My mind was racing, my stomach in knots. Tonight was the event—the one Rami’s father had insisted we attend. Hosted by the crown prince himself. The crown prince. Just the thought made my palms sweat. This wasn’t just any event. It was the kind where every glance, every word, every step would be scrutinized. And I? I was not ready.I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my closet as if it held the answers to all my problems. What does one even wear to something like this? Something elegant, obviously, but not too flashy. Sophisticated, but not intimidating. I groaned, running a hand through my hair. This was impossible. I needed help. Professional help.I grabbed my phone and dialed my stylist. She picked up on the second ring, her voice calm and reassuring, as always. “Dema, darling, what’s the emergency?”“I need you. Right now. It’s the event tonight—the one with the crown pri
As Rami and I walked toward the stadium, the buzz of the crowd grew louder, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. I tried to keep up with his cheerful banter about the game, but I could feel the weight of work pressing down on me. My team’s struggles had been gnawing at me all week, and no matter how hard I tried to push it aside, the anxiety kept creeping back in.“Dema,” Rami said suddenly, his voice cutting through my thoughts. “You seem off. Is something wrong?”I hesitated, glancing at him. His brow was furrowed with concern, and I knew I couldn’t brush it off. “It’s just… work,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. “Things haven’t been great. The team’s numbers are down, and we’re struggling to hit our targets. I’ve been trying to figure out how to turn things around, but it’s been stressing me out.”Rami nodded thoughtfully, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets as we continued walking. “Have you thought about giving them an incentive?” he asked casually, as if it
I sat at my desk, staring at the latest report in front of me. The numbers were down—again. It felt like no matter what we did, we just couldn’t hit our targets. The weight of it all pressed down on me, and I could see the same frustration mirrored in the faces of my team. They were trying their best, I knew that, but the energy in the office had shifted. The usual buzz of productivity was gone, replaced by a heavy silence that seemed to hang over us like a cloud.I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Was it the workload? The pressure? Or was it something else entirely? I decided to talk to Karim, our team leader. If anyone had insight into what was going on, it was him.I found him in the break room, sipping coffee and scrolling through his phone. He looked up as I walked in, and I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. “Hey, Karim,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Got a minute?”“Sure, Dema,” he said, setting his phone down. “
As I stepped into the elegant foyer of Alice’s home, I felt a quiet confidence in my choice of attire. My black skirt suit was timeless, tailored to perfection, and paired with simple jewelry that added just the right touch of sophistication. I didn’t need to scream luxury; I wanted to embody understated elegance, and I think I succeeded. I had officially decided to boycott top brands and I did, I bought this suit from a new designer I came across online, I loved her work so I decided to support her.Alice the wife of Rami's business partner invited me to her house for tea, she greeted me warmly when I arrived, her smile as polished as the silver watch she was wearing.“Dema, so glad you could make it!” she said, her voice dripping with the kind of charm that made you feel both welcomed and slightly scrutinized. I returned her smile, careful to match her poise. She led me into the sitting room, where the air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers and the soft murmur of conversation
I’m curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting lights across the living room. *Pride and Prejudice* played out before me.While watching it I couldn't help but feel a strange pull in my chest as I watched Elizabeth Bennet. She was so real. Plain, humble, sharp-tongued, and unapologetically herself. I saw so much of me in her—or maybe I just want to. But then there’s Mr. Darcy, standing there with all his wealth, his pride, his quiet intensity. And my mind drifts to Rami.Rami. He’s nothing like Darcy, not really. Sure, he’s got the wealth, the influence, the confidence that comes with it. But where Darcy is reserved, Rami is magnetic. Charming. The kind of person who walks into a room and instantly owns it. Everyone loves him. Everyone wants to be near him. And why wouldn’t they? He’s outgoing, effortlessly likeable, and has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room when he talks to you. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? He makes everyone feel th
As I adjusted the hem of my long-sleeved black dress in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel a strange disconnect. The fabric was luxurious, the cut elegant, I couldn't help but think that it's just not me. Rami had insisted we dress to impress tonight, those are his words not mine. He stood behind me now, adjusting his gray tuxedo in the reflection, the golden watch on his wrist catching the light. He looked every bit the successful man he was, the tension between us was still there, hanging in the air, it was bitter and uncomfortable,I was growing sick of it, but there was nothing I can do about it.“You look stunning,” he said, his voice soft but distant, as if he were speaking to a stranger. I nodded, my lips forming a tight smile. I didn’t feel stunning. I felt hollow. The simple jewelry I’d chosen—a pair of pearl earrings and a delicate silver bracelet—felt like armor, a way to shield myself from the prying eyes of the people we were about to meet. Rami had mentioned how impor