Chapter 131 : Brother Ibi

The midday sun cast golden glow across the hospital room, highlighting the quiet moment between Aqil and Nayla. The little digital clock on the bedside table glowed faintly, displaying 13:20. 

Aqil, meticulously slicing an apple into bite-sized pieces for Nayla, paused mid-air, his brow furrowed in thought, "Nayla, don't you find it strange? The attention we've been getting from the nurses and doctors and the staffs.... it feels excessive, even though I appreciate the extra care."

Nayla, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, turned her head slightly. "What do you mean, strange?" she inquired, her voice raspy from disuse.

Aqil elaborated, "When I went to settle the bill a few days ago? The receptionist informed me it had already been paid."

Nayla's eyes widened in surprise. "You haven't paid the bill?" 

Aqil shook his head. "No, I tried to find out who paid it, intending to return the money, but the receptionist claimed there was no record of the benefactor."

Nayla sighed, a thoughtful expression clouding her features. She reached for a piece of apple from the plate Aqil held out, her appetite slowly returning. "Perhaps it was Ibrahim. Brother Ibi." she suggested softly.

Aqil's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Ibrahim?" he scoffed. "Nayla, that's impossible. He's not even related to you by blood. Why would he pay?"

Nayla took a bite of the apple. "Blood relations don't define everything, Aqil," she said gently. "Ibrahim may not be related to me by blood, but he is like a brother to me. And I'm sure he's the one who took care of the bill."

Aqil remained silent, his jaw clenched in a mixture of pride, frustration and ego. He mumbled under his breath, "I'll send him the money back. I'll return every penny to him. I can take care of my wife and son. I don't need anyone's help."

Nayla watched Aqil. She understood his protectiveness, his desire to be the sole provider for their family. And she also knew that Aqil refused Ibrahim's help because he knew the source of Ibrahim's wealth.

"Remember, Nayla," Aqil began, "I told you I recently worked for Elara? Elara is the brother of Ibrahim's wife, Ava."

Nayla's brow furrowed, "Brother Ibi got married?"

Aqil nodded grimly. "Almost two months ago," he confirmed. "But it wasn't exactly a happy occasion. Apparently, Ibrahim kidnapped the girl and threatened her to marry him. Otherwise, he threatened to kill her brother, Elara. Forced her into marriage."

Nayla remained silent. A part of her still refused to believe it. Yet, she knew all too well the ruthless nature of her brother Ibi. Ibrahim was a man who wouldn't hesitate to take what he desired, regardless of the means.

Aqil continued his explanation. "Elara hired me as an informant," he revealed. "He wanted me to gather information about Ibrahim, hoping to use it to put him behind bars. I didn't tell you all these for your pregnancy. I was waiting for the right time to tell."

"How does he expect to do that? Even if they arrest him, Ibrahim has the resources and connections to walk free within hours." Nayla replied.

Aqil sighed, "Elara knows that well. But all he wants is to see his sister free from Ibrahim's control. That's all that matters to him."

Nayla's curiosity piqued, "Do you have any pictures of Ibrahim's wife? I'd love to see her."

Reaching her phone, Aqil replied, "I don't have any personal pictures, but there are some online from when they went to Malacca a while back."

He scrolled through his phone and found a suitable picture, then held it out to Nayla. "Here you go."

Nayla gently took the phone, her gaze drawn to the image on the screen. It was a picture of Ava and Ibrahim strolling through the Jonker Market.

"She's very pretty," Nayla remarked, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Just like her name, Ava."

Aqil offered a gentle smile. "Nayla," he began, "it's important to focus on getting better right now. Put all this aside and concentrate on recovering."

He reached out and handed her the plate of sliced apples. "Finish these fruits, love," he encouraged.

Nayla attempted to sit up, but the discomfort from the recent surgery held her back. Aqil, sensing her struggle, immediately came to her aid.

"Don't worry about sitting," he said, his voice filled with tenderness. "Let me help you eat, love." 

As he fed her a piece of apple, Nayla spoke softly, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "You know what? Every girl deserves a man like you, Aqil," she said, her gaze filled with love and gratitude. "A husband who cares so deeply. But..." she trailed off, her voice faltering slightly, "no woman deserves a past like mine. And you still accept me as a wife after knowing all that."

"Don't dwell on the past." he urged, "It's long gone, and now we have a beautiful son to focus on. Think about the future, about you, me, and Sahil. We have a lifetime of happiness to build together."

....

In their cozy apartment, Farah and Zeba bustled around, packing their bags for the upcoming trip to Langkawi Forest.

Farah, however, couldn't shake off a nagging sense of frustration. "Ugh, Ava!" she exclaimed, tossing a pair of shorts into her bag with more force than necessary. "We were literally together yesterday the whole day, and she didn't say a word about changing her mind about the trip. Now, it's suddenly morning, and she's all gung-ho about going? This girl!"

"Don't worry about it," Zeba soothed. "It's just a three-day, two-night trip. We don't need to pack a mountain of clothes."

Farah ran a hand through her hair, her frustration momentarily abating. "Yeah, you're right, but it would have been nice if she'd told us earlier. We leave at dawn tomorrow, and I still have half my stuff to pack."

Just then, the doorbell rang. Who could that be at this hour?" Farah muttered, walking towards the door.

Opening the door, she was met by a middle-aged man in a sharp black suit. He was one of Ibrahim's guards. 

 "Farah ma'am," he spoke politely, "Mr. Ibrahim would like to speak with you if you're available. He's waiting in the car."

With a nod, she replied, "Ah, yes, of course. Let's go."

She emerged from the apartment, the guard following close behind. Outside, a sleek black car, its windows tinted a dark shade, waited by the curb.

The guard opened the back door for Farah. As she slid into the leather seat, she found Ibrahim already occupying the other side. He sat ramrod straight, his sunglass perched on his nose. He was dressed in a sharp black suit. The guard guard waited outside the car. 

Without preamble or greeting, Ibrahim spoke, "I don't have time for chit-chat, Farah. Let's cut to the chase. Since I'm not sending any guards with Ava on this trip, I expect you to look after her. Keep her safe."

This wasn't a request; it was a command, delivered in a tone that left no doubt about the consequences of disobedience.

"I can take care of Ava better than anyone," Farah retorted, "We've been best friends for over six years. I know Ava better than anyone else."

He turned his head slightly. "You," he continued, his voice dropping to a low growl, "will be her eyes and ears. I want to know everything that happens around her, every move she makes, every word she speaks, every morsel of food that passes her lips. I want a detailed report on everything she does. Every. Single. Thing. I want a minute-by-minute account of her entire trip. When she wakes up, who she talks to, where she goes – I want to know it all. And if anything, anything at all, happens to her while she's under your watch, you will answer to me. Understood? Do I make myself clear?"

"I understand," Farah simply replied.

Ibrahim reached into his suit pocket and withdrew a hefty envelope, its contents bulging with cash. He tossed it onto the seat between them, the gesture dismissive, "Consider this an incentive. And if you need more, just say the word. I'm a generous man, especially to those who prove themselves useful."

Farah stared at the envelope, her jaw clenched tight. The implication was clear: her friendship with Ava was for sale. A wave of anger washed over her, hot and fierce.

"I'm not doing this for money," she replied, "I agreed to look after Ava because she's my best friend, not because I'm looking for a paycheck. Please give the money to someone else who's in need."

 "I don't like people working for me for free," he snarled, "It's not in my nature. I pay handsomely, always more than they deserve."

Farah countered, "Why don't you answer a question for me as your 'paycheck'?"

"Ask away," he conceded, leaning back in his seat.

Farah took a deep breath, "How do you cope up after a crime? How do you find peace after knowing you've done something wrong?"