chapter 2

Chapter 2

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"You made it!" Marwa exclaimed excitedly, throwing herself at Ahmad. He leaned backwards to take in her petite frame, smiling slightly at his sister. Safa hugged him from behind, jumping deliriously too.

"I thought you weren't going to come, i had almost placed a bet with Marwa that you wouldn't show up." Safa confessed, breathing heavily from jumping so much. She was slightly bigger than her twin– Marwa, and more louder although Marwa is older than her by two minutes.

They were both lighter than his brown complexion. Bigger eyes that accentuated their pointed noses and pouty lips, and curly hair that made people mistake them for half castes.

"What was at stake?" He asked, looking around in search of their parents.

"Oh, nothing actually– just that slight dignity increase in knowing that i know you like the back of my palm, although that isn't so.. apparently." She answered, frowning slightly at her own realization.

Marwa laughed and plopped unto one of the chairs set up in a four seater position in the backyard.

"I'm glad you've finally realized that we don't only not know our brother, but that he is very very unpredictable." Marwa added.

He winced at this, wondering if that was what they really thought of him.

"Where are the oldies?" He asked again instead, changing the subject.

They both pointed towards the kitchen, and continued chatting between themselves.

He tapped on his thigh as he walked to the kitchen– he wasn't nervous but he disliked time with his parents, they were always disagreeing over everything. And he knew that was why his father invited him for the family dinner, there was probably something up his sleeve.

He opened the backdoor to the kitchen, the sun seeping through the glass windows and lighting up most of the wide space, and the island– which was littered with all sorts of herbs and spices, and different assortments of food. There were two staffs busy with the pots. His parents were standing by the door that led to the living room, conversing in hushed tones.

"Ahh, my only son!" His mum delightfully exclaimed when she noticed his presence. She stepped around a cooler filled with drinks and ice and engulfed him in a warm hug.

"I'm glad you came hun," she said to his ear. "Are you hungry, thirsty? Let me get you something!" She suggested, and hurriedly walked to the chefs.

He turned to his dad, both of them glaring each other down like it was a staring contest.

"We need to talk. In my study. Now." He commanded and left.

Ahmad sighed, closing his eyes to release the building anger in him. The last time they had talked, it ended in an argument. His father cursing the day he was born for rejecting his order of taking up as CEO of his company.

He remembered– his dad's face red with anger as he thumped his fist on his desk repeatedly. He knew it was his place to take over, but he had always wanted a stream of income of his own.

The argument had created a big rift between them, but he didn't care.

"Here hun," his mum said, thrusting a plate of small chops at him.

"Lunch isn't ready, but you can start with this. Pick any drink of your choice– if this isn't of your taste, there's non alcoholic wine in the fridge, okay?" She offered, pointing at the fridge.

Nodding, he thanked her and made his way upstairs to his father's study.

His dad was seated on the black couch situated by the side of the room's space. Books scattered on the soft center rug, and a clutter of papers on his sturdy wooden table.

He closed the door behind him and stood adjacent to his dad,wearing a scowl– the small disposable plate with the small chops on it in his hand.

"Sit down." His dad commanded again. He shook his head," no, I'm fine standing."

He could see his dad clenching his teeth through his temple, he bit down a smirk.

He enjoyed riling his father up, it felt like a compensation for all the insults and things he did to him.

"Suit yourself," his father finally replied and dropped the file he was holding.

"I called you here today because Nusra's guardian and Nusra, of course, have been disturbing too rampantly about the engagement and wedding preparations.

She says you are currently not with anyone?" He asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

"What do you mean by engagement and wedding preparations?" Ahmad asked, ignoring his question– even though he had heard his dad correctly.

They had grown up together– all four of them; him, Nusra, and the girls. Infact, they got along just fine, until they grew up and out of their small possé friendship.

These days his aunt– isha just shoves her niece in their faces and calls her Ahmad's betrothed. He disliked her. And now he was beginning to dislike Nusra too, for agreeing to it.

"We both agreed that you'd both be a good fit together." His dad said, eyeing him closely.

Ahmad blinked, "What? Without my knowledge?"

"I don't need your permission to get you wedded."

"You don't nee-.. what is that even supposed to mean?" He asked.

His anger bubbling inside of him already.

"I am NOT getting married to Nusra." He finalized, glaring at his father again.

"If that's the case, then you have someone in mind– either way, you are getting married this year, and soon... "

He indifferently picked up a book carelessly placed on the floor, and started flipping through the pages.

" ..As heir to all this property, you need a wife to assert responsibility, that is how it works in the business world." He continued.

Ahmed clenched and unclenched his teeth, mad at his father's audacity.

"I don't need a wife and i do not need your shitpiled money." He slowly spat out.

"Yes, in this case, you do. If you don't provide a woman in the coming week before the Twin's graduation party, Nusra will step in as your wife.

And if you think you are going to reject her or bypass me, you are wrong.

You claim to be starting a business of your own– but you are making use of the source fund kept for the family. That would be cut off as soon as you start to exhibit your stubborn traits.

Get a woman or get cut off, your choice."

His dad said, nailing it down.

He closed his eyes again to stop his anger from hitting the roof top, maintaining an impassive scowl.

His father was right, he was cheating by using money from a reserve that was barely his to fund his business. But he needed it to get his second ceramics-making factory going– he couldn't afford to get cut off now– not when he had just ordered for some china test pieces for ideas for his new type of plate ware.

The money going into the commercial production of it would be a lot, and SERAMICS'1 couldn't handle that.

He shot up from his seat– aware that the conversation was over, and left.

As he made his way out, he bumped into Marwa, she backtracked to steady her balance.

"Watch where you are going bro," she said dryly– angry, apparently.

He searched her face, "what's wrong?" He asked, and made to hold her hand, which she withdrew.

"I might not know you as much as i used to, but one thing i know is that you are selfish, Ahmad. SELFISH." She said, glowering his way and marring her delicate features with a frown.

"I don't understand Marwa, what did i do?" He asked, slightly confused at her tantrum yet majorly indifferent.

"You want the wealth all to yourself! That's why you can't just tell dad to go to hell with his demands, or give to us, what is our due."

He arched an eyebrow, even more perplexed at her accusation.

"What wealth? The empire I'm trying to build, or the one our father's shoving into my face?"

She laughed sarcastically and waved his question off.

" The one dad's handing to you on a platter of Gold. Don't you see? Because we are girls, he doesn't deem us fit to run his empire, this is something I've trained and studied for the most part of my life. Even if Safa isn't interested, what about me? Why can't he see US!?" She whined.

He rolled his eyes, she was being ridiculous. This has nothing to do with him! Wasn't it obvious?

He placed the small chops on the vase table just by them and dusted his hands.

"Take that up with your father, this is not my fight. I'll see you at your graduation party." He replied and walked past her. He had other things to do, to plan– this was a total time waste.

He pondered over his sister's accusation as he drove home, maybe she wasn't entirely wrong for accusing him– she deserved to control the company's works just as much as him and it was also in his place to make his dad see that. But he'd rather not. He couldn't jeopardize his vision for his ceramic's factories.

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