Once Upon A Sultan ✅

Chapter 5

-ZAINAB SHAMAKI'S POV-

Maroudi, Nigeria.

No.

This cannot be happening to me.

There's no way in hell this is actually happening.

Not to me. Never.

Slamming the door to my car close, I didn't bother to lock it as I stormed into the Publishing company I work for. My heels, which I wouldn't have bothered to wear had it been I knew of my current predicament earlier, clanking as I hastily took the few steps that led to the entrance.

It was a little to eight, the normal time work begins. But, people were already bustling about—for some reason people here weren't really ones to come late. That's something I've noticed over the few years I've been working here but at the moment, their punctuality is the least of concerns.

At the same time, I could feel their gazes on me the minute I stepped in. It wasn't hard to notice to be honest, considering I basically slammed the doors open and was walking as if I'm being chased. The whispers were there too, and the occasional finger points.

Did they need to do that though?

I've never really been bothered by the attention I get. But this time around, I hated it. I hate every second I spend making my way to the office of the one man responsible for how my life took a turn in a matter of twenty-four hours.

'There she is'

'How could she even show up at work?'

'She got a taste of her own medicine'

'It's good someone finally put her in place'

Honestly, I would snap at someone soon if I don't get what's on my mind out. What's worse is that I know why they kept throwing those small talks. Heck, everyone knows and it's getting on my last nerve.

I reached the man's office in record time, and slammed the doors open. My manners have been thrown out the window for valid reasons. Besides, he has more things to worry about—like a very furious me, than my manners.

As if anticipating my arrival, and I know he was, my 'boss', sat on his swivel chair with his legs crossed looking almost too calm. In his hand, he held his tablet staring at the figures of the people that read the article, no doubt. That's all he does. He cares about the figures the most because it means more money in his account. And in the background, noise came from the TV whose volume was dimmed down.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked, once I reached his table. I was barely holding onto the last bit of my nonexistent patience.

He didn't look up, but he gave me an answer. "Judging from your tone, I suppose you've seen it already" He stated, his voice low.

Seen it? I heard it. It was all over the news and quite unfortunately, I just had to find out on my way to work. And aside from that, my phone kept blowing with messages almost around the same time I heard it—I'm guessing that was when it was made public. I had to turn it off because it was only adding to my anger.

"Everyone saw, or heard it" I stated through gritted teeth, eyes narrowed at him. "We need to do something, asap"

He finally flickered his eyes up to meet mine—almost lazily, and his expression was blank. "Of course we're going to do something" He released a deep sigh, dropping the tablet on the table as he dragged the chair closer to the table, his intertwined fingers resting atop. "We're going to issue out an apology as soon as possible, not that it's going to do much but still"