Dare You To Love Me

«3» house of glass

B: Assassin's Creed or Mortal Kombat tonight?

Yaseerah rolled her eyes at the message, annoyed that it had broken her concentration, as she wobbled and fell onto her yoga mat.

She had finally been able to nail the burpees exercise routine, after almost two weeks of trying and failing. But now, after seeing Bilal's message, her focus had been lost, for today.

With a frustrated huff, Yaseerah pushed herself up from the splayed position on her yoga mat, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath her fingertips.

She walked to the ledge of her balcony, and peered down at the lush rolling acres of the estate, where emerald-green lawns stretched to meet the horizon, taking notice of the extra guards patrolling the grounds, which her father had hired to man the manor upon his return.

Or, to keep her from escaping more like.

Not that there was a place on earth she would hide that he wouldn't be able to find her.

Abdul-Aziz Bako was too powerful, and had too much money to back him. If she dared to run, he would find her in a heartbeat, and then things would be much worse than they ever were.

The thought had her sucking in a sharp breath, as she padded back into her bedroom, her lips tilting up into a scowl.

A soft knock on the door of her bedroom had her pausing, her fingers hovering over the screen of her phone.

Scowl still etched on her face, she gave permission for the person to step into the bedroom.

"What do you want?" Yaseerah snapped at the maid-who stood at the threshold of the room as if she was debating whether to enter or stay outside-her patience wearing thin.

She hated being rude to them but moments like this, when they refused to state their business, after interrupting her, grated on her nerves.

"Your father is requesting your presence in his room," she responded after a beat, refusing to meet Yaseerah's eyes.

The maid's words were enough to chase away any remnant of annoyance out of her system, replacing it with a bone-chilling fear that had her swallowing thickly over the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

Yaseerah hadn't seen nor heard from her father ever since he came back three days ago. And now that he'd summoned her, she couldn't imagine what he wanted to talk to her about.

"I will be there soon," she replied, her voice laced with a cool measured tone, dismissing the maid without a backward glance, as she returned her gaze back to her phone, finally typing back a response to Bilal.

Y: Mortal Kombat, definitely!

Without waiting for his reply, she locked her phone and dropped it on her bed, then picked up the jilbab she had left there earlier after her subh prayer.

Leaving the safety of her bedroom, Yaseerah wondered if she couldn't just brave the fallout of refusing to answer her father's call later but also knew that it was better to just get it done, and over with.

It had been a long time since she had been on the receiving end of his angry outburst-two weeks to be exact-and she would like to keep that record going.