Caesar kicked the gate like it owed him something.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkwIa4cCT2J
Same energy I had when I read the team update at 12:41 a.m.
I wasn't even through the stable doors yet, and he was already huffing like I'd cheated on him.
They say he's my horse, but that's not quite true.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe2mjYsiqgL
He's my shadow. My pulse check. My most brutally honest mirror.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSmpZ4d3cC5
And this morning, he was vibrating with the attitude that felt suspiciously personal.
By the time I reached him, the fog still curled low over the hills. The sunrise painted the ridge in soft gold, but Caesar stood there gleaming like black oil—head high, ears back, whole body twitching like I was lucky he hadn’t broken out and come to drag me here himself.
“You’re dramatic,” I muttered, leaning against the gate.
Ya Sabur, grant me patience with this beast.
He tossed his head, narrowed his eyes, and slammed a hoof into the dirt—hard enough to rattle the latch.
Message received.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLSlqnaDPu8
Loud. Clear. Temperamental.
God, I loved him.
Behind me, Mirsad grunted. “He woke the whole ridge up. Been screaming for you since dawn.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “I had a call with Berlin.”."
Mirsad didn’t even blink. The man was carved from stone and Balkan disapproval.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbfMHFRyide
"Tell your calls to hold next time. The horse doesn't care. And neither do I."
I smirked. "Good morning to you too."
He only grunted again.
No one earned Mirsad’s respect without blood, bruises, or at least one humiliating fall—and even then, it expired like milk. He respected execution, not last names. Which made him the only person alive who could talk to me like that without worrying about severance paperwork.
I stepped into the stall. Caesar yanked at my scarf like a child throwing a tantrum.
"Don't be petty," I warned, working the bridle over his head.
He huffed in response, then nipped at my glove for good measure.
"Honestly," I muttered, pulling the girth strap tight. "You're worse than my brothers."
He blinked, unbothered. Predictably arrogant. Unforgiving.
It took longer than usual to saddle him—not because he was difficult, but because my head was somewhere else entirely.
Specifically, on the roster update that came through at 12:41 a.m.
Team Assignment Update:149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ94YYNy7awI
Kenan Husić removed. Ayub Selimović assigned.
I hadn't made the change.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5saqbbMPLO
But I knew who had.
Husine Begović didn't believe in warnings. If something crossed a line, it vanished.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡykCQ2b7Ab3
That was how he built an empire. Swiftly. Quietly. Without apology.
Kenan had been circling the drain for weeks—testing limits, toeing lines, convinced his charm could outrun consequences. Personal comments. One too many lingering looks. That half-joke in front of a client about sharp heels and sharper mouths.
He thought he was clever.
I’d already decided to cut him loose.
But Friday, he got bold.
He leaned over me in the boardroom—uninvited—under the guise of walking me through a forecast. His hand brushed my arm. His voice dropped an octave. And he did it with the full attention of the room watching.
It wasn’t about touching me.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ40sVmxI2i6
It was about making sure everyone saw that he could. ...And the worst part? He knew I couldn’t react.
I carry my boundaries on my skin. And men like that love testing what I won’t give.
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink. I kept the meeting moving.
But Babo saw it.
Kenan was out before Monday.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡETjxHPiosU
Reassigned to my father’s office. Not a promotion—an execution with better lighting.
I almost felt sorry for him.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡukXVYX9qeA
Almost.
He wanted to test boundaries?149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAHjgRGNcT0
Now he could spend his mornings reporting to the man who built them.
Still, I hadn’t expected Ayub to replace him.
That caught me off guard.
He’s always been around—just never where I expected him.
Not invisible. Deliberate.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYcFbvFSxKj
The kind of man who doesn’t need to be seen.
Like he’s holding something back on purpose.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ54dK9IUqy3
And I hate that.
He moved into our home when I was sixteen, and he was barely older.
I remember him at the dinner table that first night—silent, composed, eyes dark with a kind of grief that didn’t ask to be comforted.
Even then, there was something sealed about him. Not closed off—just… unavailable. Measured. Watchful.
My mother sat him beside me like I was meant to pull him in.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4pKcaBUMyF
I passed him the salad without speaking.
He whispered “thank you” like he didn’t want to take up space.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1hwSzyOMRT
Like he was trying not to echo.
He stayed for two years.
Long enough to fold into the rhythm of our family.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzBXqWUAOLU
Long enough for my mother to start calling him her “fifth child.”
Long enough for me to stop noticing the silence—149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtmzW34oTPU
and start depending on it.
He didn’t fill space.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ76uG1yFV5V
He anchored it.
And somehow, without ever asking, he became part of the place I came home to.
He moved out at eighteen—first to the university dorms, then to an apartment across the river. But he never stopped showing up.
Still came home every Sunday for dinner.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡViQMNyuLYp
Still brought flowers for my mother.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRxJz3DCxTi
Still sat front row at my siblings’ events in starched shirts, quiet and steady, like he belonged to us. Like he always had.
He’s a good man. Truly.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8ES1h3uvqR
The kind you don’t have to ask twice.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtzj1OY9mup
The kind who shows up even when no one’s watching.
And I’ve always loved him—in that steady, uncomplicated way I reserve for the people who never disappoint me.
But Ayub has never looked at me with uncomplicated eyes.
He’s always been drawn to me.
It wasn’t subtle.
Not in the way he lingered when I entered a room, or how he looked away like staring might cost him something. Not in the way he said my name—careful, measured, like it might bruise if he held it wrong.
Ayub is magnetic in that way women whisper about. Tall, lean, tailored without trying.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb9C6bwlxuQ
Jaw sharp. Voice low. Eyes like dark glass—impossible to read, even when they're locked on you.
I've watched women stammer around him. He doesn’t flirt. He listens.
Looks at you like he already knows where to touch—without ever laying a hand.
It’s subtle. Intentional. Dangerous.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNjhyWiANcE
And women eat it up.
But he’s always been careful with me.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtXFCTMsEJk
Too careful.
He’s the kind of man who flinches at his own hunger.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9v0BvItI9I
And I don’t belong to a man who hides.
He never crossed a line.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeL79ZEUKs2
And I never gave him a reason to.
Not because I wasn’t interested—149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡI3lskhEDPM
But because he never let me close enough to decide.
And I don’t linger in places I’m not invited.
Maybe it was for the best.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4N0A3UbTA2
Ayub would never survive me.
I’m difficult on my best day. Sharp on my worst.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjll2njgSW0
I don’t slow down. I don’t soften. I don’t wait for people to catch up.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOrrWmQFJxN
I was raised to believe rizq comes from Allah—149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSdSDbrDTiZ
but power? Power has to be taken.
Ayub is calculated where I’m direct.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGb2ZuAJgHV
He doesn’t meet things head-on—he surrounds. Waits.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoqjDmxtQvt
Strikes only when he’s certain it’ll land.
He never pushed back. Never interrupted.
Babo offered him a division last year. He declined.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ38RxMMXWLc
Said he preferred to work under Imran.
Babo called it humility.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhFQXul7r6N
I called it fear.
Running a division meant standing shoulder to shoulder with Imran and me.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcYGwWo2rXE
We don't share power easily. And Ayub knew that.
So he stayed in the shadows. Silent where Imran was loud. Deliberate where Imran was forceful.
And Imran let him hide.
A damn shame, really—keeping that kind of power tucked away instead of forcing it forward.
But it wasn’t my call.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbJYOKIZMjU
It never was.
I didn’t want him by my side.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQxHIPFUD4k
Not in that way.
But now—thanks to my father—he was here.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡH01oK1hLx9
On my team. Working under me.
I swung into Caesar's saddle and tried to focus.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhbEg40RZJJ
Mirsad was already standing at the center of the ring, arms folded, frown carved deep.
We were a mess.
The first jump came too early. I didn't shorten Caesar's stride fast enough, and he took it long. His landing was heavy, his back legs scraping dirt like he was still half asleep. I barely corrected in time for the second.
The corner was worse. I overcompensated, pulled too hard, and he tossed his head in protest. His rhythm broke. The third jump came crooked. We clipped the top rail—loud enough to sting.
Mirsad let out a sharp whistle from across the ring, the kind that used to make me flinch when I was fifteen and too proud to admit I didn't know what I was doing.
I circled back, face hot, jaw clenched.
It wasn't Caesar's fault. It was mine. I wasn't grounded. I wasn't here. My body was in the saddle, but my head was still in that damn meeting, rehashing numbers, words, consequences. And Caesar knew it. Felt it.
He always did.
I gave him a pat on the neck. "Sorry, ljubavi."
But I could already feel Mirsad's stare burning through me as I brought him back around.
"You're off," he said flatly.
"I missed you too."
"No," he said. "You're off. He's off. I don't care about your board meetings or sleepless nights. You ride like that in Spain, you'll embarrass the entire country."
I gritted my teeth and nudged Caesar forward.
He resisted. Sloppy on the corners. Clipped the second pole.
"Again," Mirsad snapped.
Caesar and I had been training together for nearly a decade.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcIk79QxJWo
We were a unit.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX3gcWLVduF
But not today. Not with my head full of team charts and Ayub's name in bold font.
I circled the ring again.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEhP4nigY5P
Pushed harder.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVHPhWSmlGa
By the third time, Caesar cleared the jumps like he was daring me to keep up.
We found it.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡirpNtdvHhD
The rhythm.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQESf0yEXTg
The control.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRj7GaMpwtB
The grit.
Mirsad didn't smile—but his nod held a flicker of approval.
I slowed Caesar to a walk, patting his neck. His coat was damp, breath steady.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVjGrFNFaO8
Proud, the way only war horses and arrogant men ever were.
"You're still the only man who can keep up with me," I whispered.
He huffed, smug.
I dismounted, stretching my legs as the breeze picked up through the valley.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Rw4zlT4ET
My eyes lifted toward the hills beyond the estate—toward Sarajevo waking below, full of traffic and tension and unread emails.
Somewhere down there, Ayub was opening his laptop.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoY0bHuaQoA
Reading the assignment.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTVE12gSReq
Preparing to step into my division.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE8GOloU0v8
Into my world.
Back in the stable, Caesar nuzzled my shoulder like he hadn't spent the last forty minutes actively trying to throw me. Mirsad muttered something about cooling him down, but I waved him off.
"I'll walk him," I said.
He gave me a look. "Walk yourself. He's not the one with the stiff spine and clenched jaw."
I ignored that and led Caesar out the back, following the orchard trail.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx2qszynNlT
The fog was breaking apart in ribbons now, dissolving into the rising sun.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWUeciYWaGQ
The silence out here was addictive—nothing but the crunch of hooves, the creak of leather, the beat of my heart.
I needed to stay here.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZUXjtDPFQu
Just a few more minutes.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJy2np5D9Y6
One more breath before I had to walk back into a world that was quietly rearranging itself while I slept.
The truth was—I didn’t like surprises. 149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY0V25DO6ng
Allah tests in uncertainty—but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
Not on horseback. Not in the boardroom.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxgkyhTpiAF
Not at 12:41 a.m. when the man I knew how to handle was replaced by one I didn't.
Ayub has never once tried to compete with Imran and me.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWpSBqzpEXt
And that’s exactly why I’ve never trusted him.
Because people who don’t show their ambition—they’re either not a threat…149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡShvJuYi6AN
Or the biggest one in the room.
Kenan had always been transparent. Easy to read. Easy to ignore.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4eqBJk4Hsx
But Ayub?
Ayub was silence that watched. Stillness that listened.
People like that don't reveal themselves until it's too late.
I didn’t want to admit it,149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHENIAAUCJ6
but part of me wanted to see how he’d show up today.
Calm. Composed. That quiet stillness he wears like armor.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbS0Edjc6Bx
Not cold—but distant.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfHDxfFvMDd
Not weak—just impossible to pin down.
Would he stay in the background, like always?149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSPCMaHiMqi
Or would he finally step into the space he’s spent years avoiding?
That was the thing.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvdd5gsgtUX
He could.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkWB1W561On
And I hated that.
Because if he did—if he stood tall and met me without flinching—149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHmFInuPP31
I’d have to let go of the version I’ve kept folded away since I was sixteen.
The boy with grief in his eyes and too much silence in his hands.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQipZ5VOlb3
The one who watched me like I was something he wasn’t allowed to want.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD8ZCcY0fTf
The one who never challenged me.
And now I had a few hours to decide how I’d receive Ayub Selimović—before he walked into my office, calm and unshakable, offering something that looked like obedience… but never was.
Because if he thought he could stay in the shadows, he was mistaken.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0f7QDV1IWj
I don’t make room for shadows.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuw9qxRUwy0
And I don’t keep men who won’t show their teeth.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He’s the quiet one.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfeaCJUYA29
She’s the storm.
He plays the long game.149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRBNLXcPDOk
She doesn’t wait.
Lamija doesn’t make room for men who hide—149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡajXPDalG76
and Ayub’s about to find out what happens when silence steps into her fire.
Let the games begin.
-Ash&Olive
149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOUoJ9FTbN2
