Forgiving You (Dublin Sisters #2)

Chapter 16

Content warning: Strong language

Nawal winced at the harsh voice of her mother. Her feet froze on the stairs. Ghazala rushed out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a wooden ladle in her hand. She glared at her guilt stricken daughter's face and demanded, "I asked where were you?"

Nawal thought wildly what to respond, "I...I ... I went for salah and then ..."

Ghazala raised an eyebrow, "Salah was over more than 2 hours ago."

Nawal's eyes roamed wildly around the hall, trying hard to come up with some excuse, "I got a call from a friend that there are extra classes for business math and if I am interested and so I went for the class as it is confusing." She breathlessly made an excuse and praying silently her mother didn't see through her lie.

Ghazala narrowed her eyes, "Why didn't you call and tell me?"

"My phone's battery is low and I wasn't able to call." Nawal responded spontaneously.

"Well next time you better tell me" she huffed and raised the ladle pointing at her fretting daughter, "Do you understand me?"

Nawal nodded vigorously, "Yes of course." She then whirled around and dashed to her room. Shutting the door, she leaned against it and took a sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, she wondered she was not in trouble now but what about next time.

****

Late afternoon, Daud's forearms rested on his mahogany office desk, his piercing gaze met a desperate Mr. Shams. The man was nervously squirming under the fierce blue eyes. "Do I hear you right then, Shams? You are no more interested in the partnership."

Shams nodded warily.

"Salman is behind this." Daud commented not bothering to ask. Picking up the file from the desk he threw it at Shams chest, "Get out of here. I fucking don't need faggots like you in my business."

"You asshole you have no m.." Shams hissed but wasn't able to complete as Daud abruptly stood up from his black leather office chair, slamming his hands on the desk he leaned forward, "Don't you dare use that language with me in my office." His jaw clenched, "Get out."

Shams breathed deeply and stood up, "Good riddance" he muttered under his breath and left.

Taking a cigarette out of its box, Daud lit and as he inhaled the first swig of the smoke he sank back on his chair. Leaning his head against the headrest of the chair, he puffed out the smoke. So Salman wanted to play it rough. He breathed in through the cigarette. And slowly, a smirk spread on his lips, who needs a big supplier when you can create an alliance with small ones and dominate the market.

Swirling on his chair, he turned to face the office windows, the bustling city centre where the yellow and blue buses were lined on the road and countless pedestrians were making their way on the busy streets. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he puffed again. He wasn't going to play childish games and run after Salman. Instead he will make his own identity and his own business firm footings. Then he will see how Salman or anyone else is able to uproot his establishment. He had big plans. Much bigger than catering to Irish market as what Salman was doing.

He will prove it to them. All of them from his Dada jaan to that fucking asshole Salman.

He will become successful.

And as he puffed out more smoke, his gaze flickered to the clear blue skies of the spring afternoon. And his face softened thinking of Nawal. And then again for the second time that day he used the Arabic term for if God wills.