“If you had the chance to choose between them, which one would you like?”

Zahra was stunned, staring at her phone’s screen. She must have read the message countless times, her heart pounding with confusion mixed with a strange joy. She didn’t really understand what Hajiya Saratu meant by it.

Trembling, she stood up and hurried to Aneelerh’s room.

Inside, she found Aneelerh and Baby Junaid eating cake together.

Hearing her enter, they both turned to look at her.

“Zahra, what’s the matter? Why are you smiling like that?”

“My Aunty, look at what Hajiya Saratu wrote to me.” She handed over the phone. Aneelerh took it and started scrolling through the pictures.

Meanwhile, Baby Junaid, busy munching cake, said, “Aunty Zahra, you really know how to bake. It tastes so good. When my Angel comes back home, will you make this type for her too?”

Zahra nodded. “Of course, my baby boy, Angel must taste cake.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Sis Zahra.”

Then Aneelerh looked up from the phone and fixed her eyes on Zahra, still standing.

“Congratulations. Maybe your dream will finally come true. From what I understand, Hajiya Saratu wants to match you with one of her sons—that’s why she gave you the choice.”

Doubt clouded Zahra’s face. “Are you sure, Aunty Aneelerh? I don’t think so. How could she match me with her son? I’m nobody, not from a wealthy family. I know people like them don’t marry outsiders unless it’s someone from another rich bloodline.” Her voice softened. “Honestly, those people are far above me. Even when we used to go to their house to serve them, they barely spoke to us. If we greeted them, they’d just nod, not even look at us.”

Aneelerh laughed. “You surprise me, Zahra. Weren’t you the one who used to dream about marrying Chief Owais? And now you’re saying his younger brothers are out of your league?”

Zahra chuckled. “You know Chief is way out of my reach. I was only daydreaming. Later I made peace with myself and left it to God’s choice.”

Still smiling, Aneelerh patted the seat. “Come sit beside me. Let me help you choose which one suits you. They look so alike, I can’t even tell them apart.”

Zahra sat next to her, while Baby Junaid focused only on his cake, smearing his face with it.

Both women stared at the pictures. Aneelerh asked, “If my guess is right, and this happens, how happy will you be?”

“Indescribably happy,” Zahra replied.

“You’ll become part of Baba Obie’s family. Hajiya Saratu is their youngest sister, and their father is the Minister of Health. Honestly, Zahra, you’ll have everything—status, wealth, and honor—if the family accepts you.”

Zahra stayed silent, still finding it hard to believe.

“So, which one of them do you like more?” Aneelerh pressed.

“Aunty, please, I’ll leave the choice to you. I can’t even tell them apart. But I think this one is Zayn—he looks hot-tempered. And this one should be Zaid, he seems gentler.”

Aneelerh nodded. “Gentle is always better than hot-tempered. But Zayn looks more handsome.”

Zahra agreed. “Yes, Zayn is more attractive than Zaid.”

“Well, I personally like Zaid better—as long as he has a good heart.”

Zahra hesitated before speaking. “But I heard they don’t listen to advice. They seem to only chase after women. I even visited their Instagram once. They constantly post pictures with indecent women.”

Aneelerh’s face immediately darkened.

“Are you sure they don’t listen to advice?”

Zahra nodded.

“That’s a problem. Do you think their mother knows?”

“I doubt it. People fear her too much to bring up such shameful things.”

Aneelerh sighed deeply. “This doesn’t sit well with me anymore. At first, I was happy, but now I’m worried. Still, I won’t stop you from choosing whichever one you like. Maybe if God wills, your love will reform him. But the greatest risk is if he doesn’t love you back. If he doesn’t care, no matter how much you love him, you won’t be able to change him—except by Allah’s power.”

Zahra nodded, accepting her advice. Yet deep inside, she knew she couldn’t let go of this opportunity. She had long admired Hajiya Saratu and her children. Any chance to be linked to them, she wanted it.

Softly, she said, “Aunty, I only need your prayers. I’ll also pray hard. If indeed she wants to match me with one of them, may it be good for both of us. If he has a good character, I’ll be happy. If not, then I’ll take it as destiny. But honestly, I can’t reject such an offer.”

Aneelerh placed a hand on her shoulder. “Zahra, I just don’t want you to trap yourself in a marriage where you’ll suffer. It’s a big mistake to marry a man who chases women. For the sake of your future children, think carefully before deciding.”

Zahra’s face revealed her conflict—hope battling fear.

“Thank you for your advice, Aunty. But I don’t know what reply to give her now. I already opened the message, she’ll see that I’ve read it.”

After a pause, Aneelerh suggested, “Reply with the name of the one you like most. Then let’s wait and see what she’ll say.”

Zahra agreed. She took back her phone, typed “Zaid,” but without realizing, the keyboard auto-corrected it to “Zayn.” That was the name she ended up sending.

Afterward, she and Baby Junaid spent time taking selfies together. Later, they joined the others in the living room. Hajiya Adama and Uncle Abdallah were warmly welcomed and treated with respect. They enjoyed the delicious meal Zahra had helped cook, chatted happily, and only left in the evening.

---

🔥 What’s Happening in Obie Estate 🔥

After Chief Owais, the Prime Minister, and Boss Man left, the officers quickly opened their cars. They drove through the back gate of the Obie Estate—Chief Owais’s mansion was the last house at the far end. It had two gates: the front opened to the main road, while the back connected to the estate interior.

The Prime Minister requested they first stop by his house to pick up Sheikh Imam before going to Baba Obie’s.

With moderate speed, their convoy reached the grand entrance of the Prime Minister’s mansion, guarded by Canadian police and soldiers.

They parked in the spacious courtyard. Immediately, the guards approached and opened the doors for them. Together, they headed into the main lounge.

Inside, Nazli sat on the sofa, one leg crossed, focused on her laptop. Yazrin sat beside her, holding her expensive phone.

Suddenly, the Prime Minister’s greeting filled the room.

Yazrin looked up at once, her face lighting with joy, while Nazli pretended not to hear, too absorbed in her laptop.

Excited, Yazrin exclaimed, “Big Bro!” and ran to Chief Owais. Before she could reach him, he spread his arms wide, inviting her in. She almost stumbled in her haste. The Prime Minister teased, “Take it easy, my daughter, he’s not going anywhere.”

She grinned widely and threw her arms around Owais. He gently patted her back. “Long time no see. I missed you so much.”

Looking up, she whispered, “I missed you too, half of my soul. You abandoned us and stopped coming to Canada. Even when we call, you don’t pick up.” Her voice trembled with emotion.

He placed his hand on her scarf. “I’m sorry. You’re always in my heart. Work buried me, but it doesn’t mean it’s more important than you. I hope you understand.”

She nodded.

Boss Man, watching, was stunned. He had never seen Chief Owais so soft with a woman. He silently admired the Prime Minister’s household—it felt like paradise, with its luxurious AC and beauty everywhere. Yazrin herself was dazzling.

Then the Prime Minister’s voice broke his thoughts. “Let’s sit inside, my friend.” Smiling, Boss Man followed Hateem, who held his hand as they moved to the royal sofas.

Yazrin still clung to Owais’s hand as they sat together. When Taj glimpsed Nazli, his chest tightened—her face reminded him of Danish. He stared, dazed, until the Prime Minister coughed lightly to snap him back. Taj quickly looked away, nodding in apology, and they exchanged smiles.

“Nazli,” the Prime Minister called.

She slowly lifted her pale eyes toward him. “Dad, welcome back,” she said without breaking eye contact.

“Haven’t you seen our guests?” he prompted. Finally, she turned to Boss Man and muttered reluctantly, “Hey, how are you?”

With a polite smile, he replied, “I’m fine. I hope you’re well too.”

She gave a short nod. Yazrin quickly said, “Sister, aren’t you going to greet Big Bro?” Without looking at him, Nazli muttered, “Okey.” That was all.

Boss Man was shocked. Never had he seen a woman treat Chief Owais with such cold indifference.

Owais ignored her completely, scrolling on his phone.

“Nazli, greet your brother properly,” Hateem scolded sternly, his tone revealing his displeasure.

Without lifting her eyes, she said, “How are you?”

Owais didn’t respond until the Prime Minister called his name. Then he said, “Uncle, don’t let it bother you. Leave her to me—I can handle her.” His voice carried authority.

Yazrin frowned, clearly upset by her sister’s behavior, especially in front of guests.

Nazli rose, picked up her laptop, and left without a word. Her footsteps echoed upstairs.

Soon after, Princess Mujeedat descended gracefully, smiling warmly at the guests.

“Welcome, my son-in-law,” she said to Owais. “It’s been so long since we last met. So you’re finally back in the country?”

He looked up at her and smiled faintly. “Yes, I just returned not long ago. I apologize for not visiting earlier—fate only allowed it today.”

Taj, who had been staring, admired her elegance. She was truly a woman of beauty and grace.