The Rebellion Begins
Zainab sat alone, staring at the contract Yusuf's mother had given her.
A marriage contract.
Signed.
Stamped.
Manipulated.
Her life… reduced to ink on paper.
But not anymore.
---
By morning, she was dressed in all black — not for mourning, but for war.
She called a lawyer.
She booked a press interview.
She sent her manuscript — her true story — to a publisher.
"If they wanted a quiet girl, they married the wrong sister."
---
Yusuf watched her move like fire through the mansion.
Confident. Calculated. Cold.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked.
She turned to him.
"I was eighteen when they took my voice. I'm twenty now. I'm done being silent."
He nodded. "Then I stand with you."
"Not as my protector, Yusuf," she said firmly. "As my equal. Or not at all."
Yusuf blinked.
Then smiled.
"That's the only way I'd want it."
---
Later that day, Zainab sat in front of the press.
Cameras flashing.
Microphones pushed forward.
Questions flying.
She took a deep breath.
"My name is Zainab Malik. At eighteen, I was forced into a marriage that was never meant for me. Today, I take back my name, my rights, and my voice."
---
The clip went viral in hours.
Millions watched.
Some cheered. Some criticized.
But Zainab didn't care.
For the first time, she wasn't a bride.
She was a storm.
---