Oops! I Slapped the Wrong Billionaire
mistake
The atmosphere in "The Gilded Bean" was curated for the elite—hushed whispers, the scent of expensive Arabica, and the soft clinking of silver against porcelain. At the center table sat Zayn, the nation’s top actor, leaning back with a controlled, effortless grace. Across from him, his mother, Mrs. Khan, watched him with a sharp, observant eye.
Zayn adjusted his red silk tie, the color vivid against his charcoal suit.
ml.mom
(Smiling thinly) You look restless, Zayn.
zayn(ml)
(Checking his watch) Just a long day of filming, Mother. I appreciate the quiet.
Nara burst through the mahogany doors, her breathing heavy, eyes scanning the room like a hawk. Her gaze snagged on the flash of crimson at Zayn’s throat. Her face contorted with pure, unadulterated rage.
nara(fl)
Walking straight to their table) You pathetic, two-faced coward!
zayn(ml)
(Looking up, eyes cold) Do I know you?
nara(fl)
(Grabbing a full glass of water from a nearby waiter’s tray) You know exactly who I am. Or at least, you know who Sarah is!
Before Zayn could blink, Nara swung the glass.
Splash.
The water exploded over Zayn’s face, soaking his hair and dripping down into the knots of his expensive tie. The ice cubes rattled onto the table, one landing in Mrs. Khan’s lap
zayn(ml)
(Gasps, eyes snapping shut) ...
nara(fl)
(Slamming the tray down) That’s for my best friend! You cheated on her! You lied to her face for months!
zayn(ml)
(Wiping water from his eyelashes, voice dropping an octave) You have ten seconds to get out of my sight before I call security.
nara(fl)
(Leaning over the table, face to face) Oh, call them! Let them see what a pig you are. "The Gentleman of the Screen"? You’re a bottom-feeder, Zayn!
ml.mom
(Dabbling at her dress with a napkin, watching Nara silently) ...
nara(fl)
(Mocking him) What’s the matter? No script for this? No stunt double to take the hit for you?
zayn(ml)
(Standing up slowly, dripping) I don't know a Sarah.
nara(fl)
Liar! She told me! "The guy at the corner table, sharp jaw, red tie." That’s you, isn't it?
zayn(ml)
(Stepping closer, intimidating) Half the men in this district are wearing red ties today. It’s a gala afternoon.
...
(Whispering) Is that Zayn? Is she crazy?
...
(Recording on a phone) She just drenched him... she’s going to be sued into the next century.
nara(fl)
(Defiant) I don't care about your money! You broke her heart!
Suddenly, a voice cracked through the tension from the doorway.
...
Looking around, confused) Nara? What are you doing here?
Nara’s head whipped around. Standing by the coat rack was a man—slightly shorter, wearing a cheap, wrinkled red tie.
nara(fl)
Blinking, voice small) Mounir?
The silence that followed was suffocating. Nara looked at Mounir. Then she looked back at Zayn—the man whose face was on every billboard in the city. The man she had just publicly assaulted.
nara(fl)
(Whispering to herself) Oh... God.
zayn(ml)
(Leaning in, his voice like ice) "The guy at the corner table," you said?
nara(fl)
(Stammering) I... I thought... the tie...
zayn(ml)
(Glancing at his mother) My mother and I have been sitting here for twenty minutes. You didn't even bother to check the face?
nara(fl)
(Backing away) I’m... I’m so sorry. I thought you were him.
...
(Approaching) Hey, what’s going on?
Nara didn't even think. The embarrassment turned into a secondary explosion of anger directed at the actual culprit. She turned on her heel and faced Mounir.
Slap.
The sound of her hand hitting Mounir's cheek was sharper than the water splash. Mounir stumbled back, clutching his face.
...
(Shocked) What was that for?!
...
(Pointing a shaking finger) For being a cheating scumbag! And for having such a common tie! Stay away from Sarah!
She turned back to the table, her face burning a deep shade of red. She bowed low toward Mrs. Khan.
nara(fl)
(To Mrs. Khan) Ma'am, I am incredibly sorry. I’ve humiliated you and your son. I am a fool. Please... I’ll pay for the suit. I’ll do anything.
ml.mom
(Lifting a brow, a ghost of a smirk appearing) You certainly have a strong arm, dear.
zayn(ml)
(Straightening his soaked collar, eyes dark) I don’t want your money. I don't want your apologies.
nara(fl)
(Desperate) Please, I just lost my temper...
zayn(ml)
(Moving toward her, low voice) You chose the wrong man to humiliate for "content."
nara(fl)
(Scared) It wasn't content! It was a mistake!
zayn(ml)
(To his phone, already dialing) I’ll see you in court, Nara. My lawyers will be in touch by evening.
zayn(ml)
(Turning his back) We’re done here.
marriage
The morning after "The Slap" was a nightmare. Nara sat in her tiny apartment, her phone vibrating off the table. The video of her drenching and hitting Zayn—the nation's most beloved billionaire actor—was trending everywhere.
#ZaynSplash #RedTieRage #WhoIsNara?
A heavy knock at the door made her heart stop. It wasn't the police. It was a tall man in a black suit holding a gold-embossed envelope. Inside was a legal summons for ten million dollars in damages to Zayn’s "reputation and emotional well-being."
Two hours later, Nara was sitting in a private, high-security office. Across from her wasn't Zayn, but his mother, Mrs. Khan. She looked elegant, sipping tea while Nara trembled.
ml.mom
My son wants to ruin you, Nara. And he has the power to do it.
nara(fl)
It was a mistake! I told him—
ml.mom
Cutting her off) I don't care about mistakes. I care about results. Zayn is reckless, and his image is too "perfect." He needs a wife to ground him, and you... you have the fire he can't control
nara(fl)
(Eyes wide) A wife? You’re joking
ml.mom
(Coldly) Marry him, and the lawsuit vanishes. Refuse, and you’ll spend the next thirty years paying off a debt you can’t afford.
Zayn burst into the room then, his hair perfectly styled, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. He had heard the proposal through the door.
zayn(ml)
Mother, have you lost your mind? I am not marrying a delusional girl who assaults strangers in cafes!
nara(fl)
And I am not marrying a stuck-up, arrogant statue who thinks he owns the world just because he’s on a billboard!
zayn(ml)
(Sneering) You should be begging for my mercy, not insulting me. You’re a nobody!
nara(fl)
I’d rather be a "nobody" than a man who needs his mother to find him a bride because no sane woman can stand him!
zayn(ml)
You are loud, violent, and frankly, a public relations disaster.
nara(fl)
And you are a cold, heartless robot with a god complex!
zayn(ml)
(To Mrs. Khan) I refuse. Put her in jail. I’ll enjoy watching the trial.
nara(fl)
(To Mrs. Khan) Fine! Send me to jail! It’s better than being stuck in a house with him.
ml.mom
Enough! Nara, if you don't sign the marriage papers today, I will personally ensure your flower shop is bulldozed by noon. Zayn, if you don't agree, I’m freezing your trust and pulling the funding for your next three films.
The room went deathly silent. Zayn looked at his mother, then at Nara. The air was thick with hatred.
nara(fl)
Fine. I’ll do it. Just to save my shop.
zayn(ml)
Don't think this makes us a couple. You’re just a legal shield.
They arrived at the family court an hour later for a private signing. Zayn wore sunglasses, looking completely uninterested. Nara felt like she was walking to her execution.
As they waited near the registrar's office, Nara’s heart plummeted. Standing by the water cooler was Sarah—her "best friend"—and Mounir, the man Nara had slapped by mistake.
nara(fl)
Running over) Sarah? What are you doing here? And why are you with him?
...
(Linking arms with Mounir, smirking) We’re getting our marriage license, obviously.
nara(fl)
But... you said he was a cheater! You said the guy in the red tie broke your heart and you were leaving him!
...
When did I say that? I said he was a "keeper," not a cheater! You probably misheard me on the phone because you’re always so dramatic, Nara
nara(fl)
I slapped a billionaire and got sued for ten million dollars because I "misheard" you?!
...
Yeah, and look at you now. Hanging out at the court alone? Who are you marrying? Some poor guy who fell for your sob story?
...
(Glancing at Zayn, who was standing further back in the shadows with his hat low) Is that him? He looks like a waiter in that cheap-looking suit.
...
Don't worry, Nara. Maybe I can give your "husband" a job. My logistics company actually does small deliveries for Khan Industries. I’m practically a partner with the big bosses
Zayn, who had been silent, stepped forward. He didn't take off his glasses, but a dangerous smirk played on his lips.
zayn(ml)
A partner? Interesting. I don’t recall seeing your name on any of my contracts.
...
Your" contracts? Listen to this guy! Who do you think you are?
...
You’ve got a big mouth for a nobody. Maybe you need a lesson too—
Sarah swung her hand to slap Zayn, but he was faster. He caught her wrist in mid-air, his grip like iron.
zayn(ml)
(Eyes flashing behind the lenses) I don't let people touch me twice. And I certainly don't let "partners" insult my wife.
...
Let go! You’re hurting me!
zayn(ml)
Go back to your "logistics." And tell your boss that your contract with the Khans is under review as of... right now
...
You’re crazy. You can’t do that.
zayn(ml)
We’re done. Move.
Zayn didn't offer a hand. Instead, he reached out, grabbed Nara by the back of her jacket collar, and practically dragged her toward the exit.
nara(fl)
Hey! Let go! I can walk
zayn(ml)
You’ve caused enough trouble for one day. Get in.
He practically threw her toward the curb where a sleek, midnight-black Rolls-Royce Phantom was idling. The chauffeur hopped out immediately, bowing low.
Sarah and Mounir followed them out, their jaws dropping as they saw the car.
...
Is that a... Rolls-Royce? Who is that guy? I thought he was a nobody!
...
Only the Khan family owns that specific custom model... wait. Sharp jaw... red tie... celebrity...
Zayn slammed the car door shut, leaving Nara’s "friends" staring at the exhaust fumes as the car roared away.
ramadan
The interior of the Rolls-Royce was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the frantic beating of Nara’s heart. Zayn sat as far away from her as possible, his face obscured by a black silk mask and dark sunglasses. He looked like a high-end criminal or a very paranoid rockstar.
nara(fl)
(Crossing her arms) You don’t have to keep the mask on in the car, you know. I’ve already seen your face. It’s not that impressive.
zayn(ml)
It’s for my protection, not yours. If a single camera catches us together before the official announcement, my career takes a hit.
nara(fl)
Your career? Oh, please. You’re probably just an extra who got lucky with a wealthy mother. What was your name again? "Zayn"? I bet your stage name is something ridiculous like 'Action Star Jack.'
zayn(ml)
You really have no idea who I am, do you?
nara(fl)
I don’t watch trashy action movies. I’m a florist. I deal with real things, not green screens and fake crying. You’re just a spoiled guy in a fancy suit.
zayn(ml)
(Smirking under the mask) Good. Keep thinking that. It makes the divorce easier to plan.
nara(fl)
Divorce? Finally, we agree on something. I want out of this "contract" the second my shop is safe.
zayn(ml)
Agreed. One year. We play the happy couple, and then we never see each other again.
The car pulled up to a private terminal where Zayn’s best friend and personal assistant, Rayane, was waiting with a stack of documents.
...
(Opening the door) Boss, we have a problem. Can I have a moment? Alone?
zayn(ml)
(To Nara) Get out. Wait by the fountain.
Nara rolled her eyes and stepped out, wandering toward the marble fountain. The second she was out of earshot, Rayane’s face went pale.
...
Zayn, I just got the final brief from your mother’s lawyers. She didn’t just make you marry her. She transferred 20% of the Khan Industries shares into Nara’s name as a "wedding gift."
zayn(ml)
(Ripping off his mask, eyes wide) Twenty percent?! That’s nearly fifty million dollars! That woman is insane! She gave a stranger the power to bankrupt me?
...
There’s a clause. If you divorce her before two years, she keeps the shares. But... if she signs them back to you voluntarily, you're in the clear.
zayn(ml)
She’ll never give them back if she finds out what they're worth.
...
Then don't let her find out. Change your tactic, Zayn. You’re an actor—start acting. Be good to her. Make her melt. Make her fall so deeply in love with you that she’d sign anything just to make you smile. And then, once the shares are back in your pocket... throw her out.
zayn(ml)
A "honey trap." I like it. Make her love me, then leave her with nothing. It’s a good plan, Rayane
By the time they reached Nara’s modest neighborhood, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and gold. It was Ramadan, and the air was filled with the faint, delicious scent of fried pakoras and spiced lentils drifting from nearby windows
Nara’s apartment was small, located on the third floor of a cramped building. As Zayn stepped out of the Rolls-Royce, he looked like an alien landing on a different planet.
nara(fl)
You’re going to hate it here. It’s small, the AC is loud, and I don't have a maid. You can go stay at your hotel.
zayn(ml)
No. I’m staying here. A "loving husband" wouldn't leave his wife on their first night.
nara(fl)
Since when are you a "loving husband"?
zayn(ml)
Since I realized how much I overreacted. It’s Ramadan, Nara. It’s a time for forgiveness, isn't it?
Nara blinked, confused by the sudden change in his tone. She led him inside just as the Adhan (call to prayer) echoed through the streets, signaling the end of the fast.
nara(fl)
I only have simple food. Chickpeas, dates, and some fruit. If you want a steak, you're in the wrong place.
zayn(ml)
(Sitting on a wooden chair that creaked under his weight) This is fine.
They ate in a strange, tense silence. Zayn watched her—the way she moved, the way her hair fell over her shoulder. He was looking for weaknesses, but he found himself noticing the curve of her neck instead.
After the meal, Nara felt the heat of the day—and the stress of the marriage—clinging to her skin
nara(fl)
I’m going to wash up. Don’t touch anything.
She disappeared into the tiny bathroom. Zayn stood up, feeling restless. The apartment was humid. He pulled at his tie—the infamous red tie—and tossed it onto the sofa. He began to unbutton his white dress shirt, one by one, exposing his broad, muscular chest and the tanned skin that millions of women screamed for on screen.
He walked toward the bathroom door, intending to ask for a towel, just as Nara pushed it open.
She froze.
The steam from the shower curled around her, dampening her skin. She was wearing a thin, silk camisole that clung to her curves. Her eyes traveled slowly down Zayn’s chest—the defined muscles, the way his heartbeat throbbed against his ribs.
nara(fl)
(Thinking) Why am I looking at him like this? He’s arrogant. He’s a jerk. But... God, he looks different without the suit
She found her gaze drifting to his lips, which were parted slightly. She felt a magnetic pull, a heat in her stomach that had nothing to do with the summer weather.
Zayn, on the other hand, was stunned into silence. He had been on sets with the world’s most beautiful models, but Nara, standing there with wet skin and messy hair, felt... dangerous. His eyes dropped to the swell of her breasts beneath the thin fabric, then back to her lips, which looked soft and inviting in the dim light of the hallway.
zayn(ml)
(Thinking) She’s just a florist. She’s a mistake. So why do I want to move closer? Why does 20% of the company feel like a secondary prize compared to this?
He took a step forward, his shadow looming over her. The air between them hummed with a tension that was no longer about hate
In the street below, Sarah and Mounir were parked in their modest sedan, staring up at Nara’s lit window.
...
Look at that. She really thinks she hit the jackpot.
...
Don't worry. That guy isn't Zayn Khan. I looked into it. The real Zayn Khan is in London for a premiere. That guy in there? He’s probably just a high-end driver for Khan Industries. He probably stole the car for the night to impress her.
...
A driver? That makes sense! No wonder he was so defensive. He’s just a servant in a borrowed suit.
...
Exactly. Tomorrow, I’ll call my contact at the company. We’ll see how fast that "Rolls-Royce" gets towed and Nara gets thrown back into the gutter.
...
I can’t wait to see her face when her "billionaire" husband gets arrested for car theft.
Back upstairs, inside the dim apartment, Zayn’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing the wet hair away from Nara’s neck, completely unaware that his "act" was about to become very, very real.
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