Farah Dowling Novels & Stories

Farah, completely oblivious to the sudden, lethal change in the King’s demeanor, addressed him with the confidence of someone who had just secured her future. “I am Atticus’s wife,” she announced proudly. “My name is Farah. I am the daughter of the Chief of the Temburong Valley in Malaysia. We were married in my homeland.” The King’s gaze snapped back to Atticus. His eyes were unreadable yet brimming with quiet judgment. Atticus finally fractured. The intense pressure of the last hour, the stunning shock of his Royal lineage, and the mental exhaustion of the forced flight all crystallized into one blinding point of frustration: Farah.

Half of my lips smirked knowing that this woman didn't know that she's actually the CEO of one of a company of this country. Placing her hands back to my shoulder as she moved her mouth in front of my ears, she whispered, "Want us to switch? I can give her to my partner!" I ignored her words the moment I saw Farrah went out of the Taxi. She was as well wearing a black dress that showed the detail of her sexy and alluring body. Her hair was in a high ponytail, and her dark smoky eye makeup made her more fascinating that I couldn't get off my eyes from her.

I tapped explore and the first thing that came to my mind to search for was Faryah. She was using Faryah Mustapha Edwards now. She was easy to find. She didn't have any posts and her followers weren't that bad. 10k. Cool. I looked at the photos she was tagged in and my heart sank as I looked at her pictures in African wears. She was so beautiful. There were different photos here, with she and her family and my daughter. My Najmah. There were some with the Khalifa guy, their pictures pained my body, heart and soul. No one could deny that they honestly looked very good together and here I was on the side-line.

Smiles and greeted the person that she misses the most. “An honor to finally meet you, our Shrine Maiden, Daniela.” “So am I, Farah.” Daniela’s warm smile and picture of an innocent young lady, yet is beaming with sophistication and elegance just like then from the past loop. Farah almost gave up. Only if she was that aware and strong about her mission and standing in this game of chess where she needed to act and move according to HIS wishes. All to make everything fall to where it all should be. “Marie.”

I remember, when my mom used to take Kel and me; it was torture. "Seriously, are we done yet?" I whine, grinning when Farah gives me what can only be explained as the fuck-off look. From experience, I know that when she's on a mission, which she is now, there's no stopping her. "No, we have two more stores to go. Come on honey." I begrudgingly follow her inside Neiman Marcus, promising myself a pint of Ben & Jerry's Rocky Road ice cream after this. After searching high and low, I hear Farah squeal in delight and hold up yet another sleeveless dress, this one with a black embroidered sash at the waist that ties in the back and I sigh in relief, knowing just how perfect it is. Kel will love it

She put her hand over her hips before rolling her eyes on them and tugging Cleo on the shoulder. Once they went off to the streets Cleo asked her, "how did you know that?" Was this the right time to overthink? Cleo thought that she missed something important when she was so focused on him. She missed that Farah was their downstair's neighbor. Farah shrugged, her innocent face came back again, "nothing, just guessed, I think." Her fresh and charming fragrance enveloped her as they walked through the streets going to the convenience store. Her face was so white and her facial features were the standard that you would mistake her as an actress or an idol from an entertainment. She's so pretty.

When I came out of the dressing room, Farah stood admiring herself in a flowy, baby blue dress, that cascaded down her body perfectly. “You look amazing Farah! You and those long legs,” I shook my head playfully, “should have been a model.” “Thanks,” she blushed, peeking her leg out a slit I didn’t even know was there. “Ooh lala!” I winked at her, “Are you sure your mate is male?” I jokingly fanned myself, and she burst out laughing as she turned around. Her eyes grew wide as she looked me up and down, “Well ma’am, I’m speechless…. You look perfect!”

If I want to make her obey all my wishes, I must know everything about her. An hour later, my detective immediately emailed me the information about the unconscious woman in my bed. Her full name is Farah Santos Jimenez. So, her name is Farah. What a beautiful name! It suits her very pretty face. She is a college student and currently the breadwinner of her family.

"What a bunch of fools! How dare they insult my muse like this—it's outrageous." I gave a small, indifferent smile. "Forget it, Davis. They're not worth it." But Eleanor, upon hearing his name, froze in shock. "Wait—Davis? You mean the famous Parovine runway judge?" Davis nodded evenly. Eleanor's eyes went wide as she pointed between the two of us. "How are you two connected?" Davis shot her a withering glare. "We're friends. She's the chief fashion designer I personally invited back from abroad—Farah. Do you still need me to explain why we're together?"

I turned back dialing a number. Suddenly someone walked closer to me, she fell on her knees. “Please don't kill us,” she pleaded, but before I could respond she zapped me with a teaser and I fell down…everything slowly went blank.