Chapter 2: Mrs.Malik
1167 Words
The first morning as Mrs. Malik started with silence.
Ayesha woke up at 6 AM. The room was huge and unfamiliar. White sheets. Gold curtains. The Karachi skyline outside the window looked like it belonged to someone else’s life.
She touched the platinum ring on her finger. It was still there. Cold and real.
_I’m married._
_To Zayan Malik._
A soft knock on the door made her jump.
“Breakfast is served, Ma’am,” a female voice said.
Ayesha opened the door. A staff member in a black uniform stood there, head lowered. “Mr. Malik is waiting in the dining room.”
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*DINING ROOM - 6:30 AM*
The table was long enough to fit 20 people. Only 2 plates were set. One at each end.
Zayan was already there. Reading something on his tablet. Black shirt, sleeves rolled up. He looked like he hadn’t slept.
“Good morning,” Ayesha said quietly.
Zayan looked up. For half a second his eyes softened when he saw her. She was in a simple white kurta and jeans today. Hair in a low braid. No makeup.
“Morning,” he replied. His voice was neutral. “Sit.”
They ate in silence. The only sound was the clink of cutlery.
Finally Ayesha couldn’t take it. “About today... what are the rules?”
Zayan put his cup down. “Rule 1: We go to the office together at 9. The board needs to see us. Rule 2: You don’t talk to the press. Rule 3: We leave separately from events. No one should know this is fake.”
“And after 6 months?” Ayesha asked.
“After 6 months, we divorce. You get the second payment. And we never see each other again.”
The last sentence hit harder than it should have.
Ayesha nodded. “Okay.”
Zayan studied her. “Are you regretting it?”
“No,” Ayesha said honestly. “Hamza’s surgery is scheduled for Tuesday. Because of you.”
Something flickered in Zayan’s eyes. “Then we have a deal.”
He stood up. “Car will be ready in 10. Wear something formal.”
---
*MALIK INDUSTRIES TOWER - 9:15 AM*
The building was 40 floors of glass and steel. The moment their car pulled up, cameras flashed.
Zayan got out first. Then he opened Ayesha’s door and offered his hand.
For the cameras, Ayesha reminded herself. She placed her hand in his. His palm was warm. Big.
The lobby went dead silent.
Whispers started immediately.
“That’s the CEO...”
“Who’s the girl?”
“Is he... married?”
Zayan’s assistant, a sharp woman in her 30s named Nida, ran up to them. Her eyes went wide when she saw their rings.
“Mr. Malik, the board meeting is in 5 minutes,” Nida said. Then, quieter: “Sir... is this...?”
“My wife,” Zayan said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Ayesha Malik.”
He said it like it meant something.
Ayesha felt 50 pairs of eyes on her. Her heart was pounding.
Zayan leaned down slightly. Only she could hear. “Smile. You’re not in trouble.”
So she did.
---
*BOARD ROOM - 9:30 AM*
12 old men in suits stared at her like she was an alien.
Zayan didn’t sit at the head of the table. He pulled out the chair next to him. For her.
“This is Ayesha,” he announced. “My wife. As of last night.”
Silence.
Then one of the directors, Mr. Siddiqui, cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Zayan. We... didn’t expect this.”
“I know,” Zayan said. “That’s why I did it. Any other questions about my personal life, or can we discuss the Q3 report?”
No one asked anything else.
The whole meeting, Zayan’s hand brushed against hers under the table twice. Accidentally, she told herself. But both times she felt her skin burn.
---
*LUNCH TIME - CEO’S OFFICE*
Ayesha was given a small office next to Zayan’s. “In case you get bored,” Nida had said.
At 1 PM, Zayan walked in without knocking. He had two food boxes in his hand.
“I didn’t order anything for you,” he said, like it was an afterthought. “So I got extra.”
He set the box on her desk. Biryani. Her favorite.
“How did you know?” Ayesha asked, surprised.
Zayan shrugged. “Your bank statements. You ordered it every Friday.”
Ayesha stared at him. This ruthless billionaire had checked what food she liked?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Zayan nodded and turned to leave. At the door he stopped.
“Nida will brief you on tonight’s event. Charity gala. 7 PM. Black tie.”
He left before she could answer.
Ayesha opened the biryani. It was still hot.
---
*CHARITY GALA - 7:30 PM*
The ballroom was full of Karachi’s elite. Diamonds. Designer suits. Fake smiles.
Zayan and Ayesha entered together. His hand was on the small of her back. Guiding. Protecting.
“Ayesha, smile,” he murmured. “They’re watching.”
She did.
Halfway through the event, a woman in a red dress walked straight to them. Tall. Perfect makeup. And fury in her eyes.
“Zayan,” the woman said. “We need to talk.”
Zayan’s jaw tightened. “Not now, Mahira.”
Mahira. The ex.
Mahira looked at Ayesha up and down. “So this is the replacement? Cute.”
Ayesha felt her stomach drop.
Before she could respond, Zayan stepped slightly in front of her. Shielding her.
“Don’t,” he said to Mahira. His voice was low but dangerous. “Don’t talk to my wife like that.”
_My wife._
Mahira laughed, but it was bitter. “We’ll see how long this lasts.”
She walked away.
The moment she was gone, Zayan turned to Ayesha. His mask was back, but his eyes... his eyes were checking her.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Ayesha nodded. But her hands were shaking.
Zayan noticed. Without thinking, he took her hand in his. For the cameras, he told himself.
But he didn’t let go for a long time.
---
*MALIK MANSION - 11 PM*
Back in her room, Ayesha couldn’t sleep.
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
`Unknown: You think you can take what’s mine? You have no idea who you’re dealing with. - M`
Ayesha dropped the phone like it burned her.
Down the hall, Zayan was also awake. He’d seen the way Ayesha looked at Mahira. Scared.
And he’d hated it.
He picked up his phone and texted Nida: `Increase security for Mrs. Malik. Starting tomorrow.`
Then he added: `And find out who gave Mahira my wife’s number.`
He stared at the word "wife" on his screen.
6 months, he reminded himself. This is just business.
So why did it feel like the start of something he couldn’t control?
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*END OF CHAPTER 2*
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- Writer
