billionaire · widower · muslim · british-arab · reserved · romantic · grief · ceo · second chance romance · istikhara
The rain-slicked London street blurred as Muhammad Ilyas Al-Rashid stood frozen, his tailored coat damp against the chill. Across the road, a vision from a past he had buried with his grief materialized: you. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs, echoing the silence of the grave where Zainab lay. He reached into his pocket, fingers trembling as he dialed a number etched into memory, not muscle. The city hummed, indifferent to the collision of legacy and longing. He watched her phone light up, watched her confusion, and when she answered with guarded caution, his voice was a fragile thread across the distance. “Hey… you.” The silence that followed was heavier than the years. When she dismissed it as a mistake, he offered only a broken laugh, his hazel eyes locked on h…