The Twins, Twist and Turns
Chapter 1.
Disclaimer:
The Twins: Twist and Turns is different from my previous books. This story contains mature themes, emotional twists, and scenes with sensitive or violent content that may not sit well with some readers. Please note that this book is rated PG. Kindly read at your own discretion-your decision, not mine.
Years later.
It was a warm afternoon during closing ours at the prestigious Greenfield International School, a place 12-year-old Afna had grown to love over the past few years. The soft hum of the ceiling fan, the gentle breeze drifting through the open windows, and the low murmur of distant voices all melted away as she slipped into peaceful sleep.
Afna had just finished her JSS 2 exams, and the relief from the stress made her more exhausted than she expected. The classroom, usually bustling with noise, was now empty and quiet. She had found a quiet spot at the back, laying her head on the desk, arms tucked beneath her cheek, drifting off into her own world.
She had no idea that someone was standing just at the classroom doorway, watching.
"Afna," a soft voice called, cutting through the silence.
"Please, I'm sleeping. Don't disturb me," she mumbled without looking up, her voice laced with irritation.
But then the voice came again-this time teasing, playful. "You can't Keep sleeping when I'm here."
Her eyes flew open. She shot up and blinked at the figure in front of her.
There he was-Fahad.
Leaning casually against a desk with one arm resting on the surface, he looked impossibly dashing. His sharp features, intense gaze, and calm posture made him seem almost unreal. Everything about him was effortless-like someone born to be admired.
Fahad 19, was easily the most handsome guy she had ever seen.
But more than that, Fahad was Fahad Hamdan-the son of the school's owner. Though he had graduated from Greenfield two years ago, he hadn't been admitted into university yet. As one of the two sons of Mr. Hamdan, a wealthy business man and CEO of Hamdan Cooperative Group, Fahad alomg with his twin brother Faris are the heir to a legacy known across the country.
He was famous for his intelligence, intimidating aura, and undeniable charm. Every girl dreamed of him. Every guy envied him.
And somehow... his attention had always been on her.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I must have kept you waiting."
He smiled, shaking his head. What he didn't say was that he had been standing there for nearly an hour-and still hadn't had the heart to wake her up until now.
Fahad and Afna had been best friends for two years now. They first met at her father's company during a business deal between their dads. Since then, their bond had only grown stronger. Their parents often teased them, saying, "When you both grow up, we'll marry you off."
They talked for about five minutes, catching up, laughing. But something in Fahad's eyes told her he had more to say.
"I have something to tell you," he finally said, his tone soft as he motioned for her to step outside the classroom with him.
"I'm all ears," Afna replied, following him.
He paused, then looked her directly in the eyes. "I'll be leaving for Malaysia tomorrow morning to study Architecture."
Her eyes widened. "Really? Wow! You're going to be an architect?" She smiled brightly. "Congratulations!"
But then her smile dimmed just a little. "But... why can't you study here? I mean... your dad even owns a university."
He chuckled softly. "Yes, but it was my mom's decision. And besides, there's no architecture program at my dad's school yet."
"The good son," she teased, nudging his arm. "Well... I can't wait to see you as an architect one day."
They kept talking-about life, dreams, the future-until Fahad grew unusually quiet.
Then he looked at her with an intensity that made her heartbeat quicken.
"I'm really going to miss you a lot, Afna," he said softly.
"Me too," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
"If I come back..." he said slowly, "the first thing I'll do is marry you, Afna."
She froze, her heart suddenly still. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
And then-
"Afna! Afna, wake up! You'll be late!"
A voice whispered in her ear, pulling her sharply from the dream.
Afna groaned softly, her eyelids fluttering open to see her beautiful mother's face-Zainab-leaning over her with a gentle smile. Even in her mid-thirties, people still ogled her beauty.
Ouch. That just brought her back to reality-she was no longer the 12-year-old Afna. She was 16 now.
"Please, Mom, I want to sleep," Afna muttered, her voice muffled as she pulled a pillow over her face.
Zainab chuckled, brushing her fingers gently over her daughter's cheek. "Come on, sweetie. Don't go back to sleep-you'll be late for school."
Still unmoving, Afna sighed. "Just five more minutes..."
At the doorway, Mubarak stood watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. His wife and daughter-the two women who ruled his world then Aisha.
But when Afna refused to get up, giving Zainab more stress, he finally stepped into the room.
"Afna," he called, his voice calm but firm.
He moved closer and gently pulled the pillow and bedsheet away from her head. She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide in surprise.
"I don't want to see you acting stubborn or disrespectful to your mom," he said, his gaze steady.
"I'm sorry, Dad," she replied quickly and slipped out of bed.
Mubarak turned to Zainab and took her hand, leading her out of the room with a sigh.
"She's so spoiled," Zainab muttered under her breath.
"Maybe she gets it from you," Mubarak teased lightly, earning a playful shove from his wife.
____
Afna was no longer 12, but 16 now, and it showed in her poise, her beauty, and the way she moved. Steam clung to the bathroom air as she stepped out, a white towel wrapped snugly around her head and another around her body. Her skin glowed, flushed slightly from the warmth of the shower. Facing the mirror, she paused, taking in her reflection-large, expressive eyes, smooth skin, and striking features. She was the perfect blend of her mother's elegance and her father's handsomeness. People often said she outshone them both. Wherever she went, heads turned.
After laying out her prayer mat, she performed her Fajr prayer with quiet devotion. When she finished, she moved to her wardrobe, fingers grazing over the neatly arranged scarves and gowns. Her hand stopped at a soft pink one. "Perfect," she whispered with a small smile.
She slipped into the gown with graceful ease. It flowed over her body, hugging her rounded bust, flat tummy, and soft curves like it was made just for her. The matching scarf added a quiet elegance, the kind that made her feel both powerful and serene. She rolled the veil carefully and set it aside, then turned to her reflection. The smile on her lips only deepened.
This gown was special-a gift from Fahad.
Even after all these years, since he'd left for Malaysia, they were still in touch. They chatted almost every day, exchanging jokes, updates, and the occasional late-night thought. Now in his final semester studying architecture, he was expected back in four months. Sometimes she found herself wondering what it would be like to see him again.
Afna quickly pushed the thoughts aside. Now wasn't the time to daydream. She focused on getting ready, carefully checking every detail. She always took her time-it wasn't vanity, it was a personal rule: always show up looking your best.
---
Two hours passed.
Downstairs, Zainab and Mubarak sat at the dining table, both dressed and ready for work. Opposite them was Aisha, twelve years old afna's sister and already sipping her tea.
"She said one hour," Mubarak said, trying to hide his growing irritation. "It's been two."
Zainab shook her head, "She never rushes unless it involves shopping."
She raised her voice, calling out, "Afna! Afna!" but received no response.
Zainab turned to Aisha. "Go and call your sister."
Aisha stood up to obey, but just before she could take a step, Afna finally strolled in.
She looked radiant, composed, and completely unaware of the storm she'd walked into. She sat opposite her parents, humming softly as she began to serve herself.
Zainab watched her closely.
Afna lifted her spoon-then paused as her mother gently caught her wrist.
"Your mates are up early, cooking for their parents and waiting for them to eat before they touch anything," Zainab said, her voice low but firm, disappointment clearly written across her face. "But you? We're the ones waking you up, cooking for you, and waiting for almost two hours. You walk in and start eating without thinking about us. Even Aisha helped."
Afna blinked, taken aback, suddenly aware of her mistake.
"Oh... I'm sorry, Mom," she mumbled, then quickly began serving all of them, including Aisha.
She was about to lift her spoon again when Mubarak, still calm, spoke without looking up.
"Pray first."
Afna nodded, lowering her spoon once more. She quietly whispered a short du'a before beginning her meal with them.
___
Meanwhile, just across the same compound, in their own portion of the house, sixteen-year-old Asna, afna's cousin adjusted her glasses as she moved gracefully around the dining area in a maroon gown. She bore a striking resemblance to her parents, Lukman and especially Zara, Zainab twins sister-many even said she looked even more beautiful than her mother. Asna had inherited so many traits from Zara, and some said she carried them even better.
The room was filled with the warm aroma of fresh toast, fried eggs, and crispy yam. Breakfast was ready. Asna had already served the table and now sat quietly across from her parents. Beside her was her eleven-year-old brother, Sulaiman, both waiting patiently for their parents to begin.
"Masha Allah, I always look forward to your meals, Asna," Lukman said with a proud smile as he picked up his fork.
Zara raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. "Hmm... Looks like your dad prefers your cooking over mine these days."
They all laughed.
"No, Mom! Yours is always the best," Sulaiman quickly added, his voice earnest and sincere.
"Bless you, my dear," Zara said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
"Bless you," Lukman echoed, his eyes full of pride as he looked at Asna.
Asna's heart swelled with joy. This-serving her parents, earning their praise, and staying devoted to her deen-was what she lived for. Despite her age, she was mature beyond her years. Every morning, she woke early for prayer, made heartfelt du'a for her parents and the prophets Ummah in general, and then busied herself helping around the house.
After breakfast, Zara and Lukman went to get ready. Asna quietly cleared the table before stepping outside. She usually went to school with Afna in her parents' car.
Meanwhile, in another part of the compound, Zainab and Mubarak were preparing to take Aisha and Sulaiman to school, following their usual routine.
Asna stopped by to drop sulaiman off, just like always, Asna and Afna daughters of the twins were cousins and best friends. Given how much they resembled their parents, people often mistook them for sisters. But in many ways, they were opposites.
Asna stepped into the living room and spotted Afna-reluctantly-arranging plates on the dining table. Across from her sat Aisha with uniform, neatly arranging her books. Zainab stood nearby with her arms crossed, watching her daughter with a mixture of irritation and silent critique.
"Good morning, Anty," Asna greeted politely, kneeling slightly in respect. "Good Morning uncle"
Mubarak turned with a warm smile. "Stand up, Asna," he said. "How are you today?"
"I'm fine, Alhamdulillah," Asna replied, rising gracefully.
Zainab glanced between the girls. "Afna, see how your mate greets her elders?"
Afna rolled her eyes lightly. "Mom, please..." she muttered.
She grabbed her school bag, adjusted her veil, and stole a quick look in the mirror. Her pink gown fit perfectly, and she gave herself a small nod of approval before heading toward the door, clearly ignoring her mother's remark.
"Goodbye, and good luck. Afna and Asna, please behave yourself," Zainab called out.
"Bye, Mom!" Afna said as she walked out with Asna. They both waved.
"Please be careful," Mubarak called out to them as they left.
Outside, Zara and Lukman waited in the car. Asna and Afna climbed in, settling into their usual seats, while Zainab and Mubarak prepared to take Aisha and Sulaiman to school before heading to work.
___
It was only the second week of their university life as cybersecurity students, yet Afna had already become one of the most talked-about names on campus. Her breathtaking beauty turned heads wherever she went. Whispers of admiration followed her through corridors, and it wasn't long before she earned the nickname Star Girl.
Walking beside her, as always, was her Asna, The second most admired girl in the school. The two were often compared to their mothers-twins, but their personalities couldn't be more different. Afna, ullike her mother Zainab that was unbothered, thrived in the spotlight. Afna loved the attention, the admiration-it fueled her. Confidence radiated from her with every graceful step.
Asna, on the other hand, was the perfect reflection of her mother Zara-calm, composed, and grounded. She wore glasses, which earned her the nickname "Four Eyes" from a few jealous girls and immature boys. But Asna never cared. She wasn't interested in popularity, fashion trends, or fitting in. If anything, she avoided attention whenever possible.
As they walked into the lecture hall, Afna naturally drifted toward her usual spot-one unofficially reserved by Rashid, their coursemate, who wore his crush on his sleeve.
"Take your seat, Princess," Rashid said with a grin, patting the empty space beside him.
Afna gave him a shy smile. "Thank you," she murmured sweetly, her voice soft and warm. Rashid's grin widened as if he'd just won a prize.
Asna settled beside her quietly.
---
Later that day, after lectures, the girls headed out for lunch. They chose a trendy private restaurant-the kind only the wealthiest and most elite students patronized. Afna had insisted they come, convinced it was the perfect spot for her next ppic snaps.
They settled across from each other, Asna quietly eating her meal while Afna scrolled through her phone with excitement.
"Look at my last post," Afna gushed. "It's getting a lot of likes!"
Asna only adjusted her glasses and continued eating silently, uninterested.
Just then, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted.
The door swung open, and in strode Faris Hamdan, Fahad Twins and only brother-dressed head-to-toe in ash-toned designer wear, dark sunglasses shielding his piercing gaze. His entrance was magnetic. Conversations halted mid-sentence, forks paused halfway to mouths. Heads turned. Phones rose. Snaps clicked. Whispers followed.
Faris, at just 23, an Engineering student was already a living legend on campus. The son of the university's owner and a high-ranking government minister, he carried himself like someone born to lead. Sharp-minded, cold-eyed, and effortlessly handsome, he was the walking embodiment of status and allure. Every girl wanted him. Every guy wanted to be friend with.
He wasn't alone. Flanking him were his two closest friends-Faruk and Kamal-both oozing confidence and class, their presence just as deliberate. The trio scanned the room and, without hesitation, made their way to a table just a few feet from where Asna and Afna sat.
Three striking girls were already there, clearly waiting. As Faris approached, their giggles intensified, lashes fluttering like they were caught in a breeze. No one dared to stand in his way-it was as though royalty had arrived.
They took their seats, and Faris slid his glasses off in one smooth motion. The girl beside him-Hamrat-visibly blushed under the weight of his gaze.
Laughter, flirtation, easy banter-it all followed them like perfume. Their corner of the room hummed with energy.
Afna was among his admirers, her eyes filled with quiet admiration-while Asna, on the other hand, frowned in disapproval.
Afna glance at her. "What?"
"He's arrogant," Asna said louder, eyes fixed on Faris.
Afna tilted her head. "He's not arrogant. He's... composed. Confident. I actually always seeFahad in him."
"Fahad is nothing like him," Asna scoffed.
Afna pointed subtly. "He is not that bad Asna, He's feeding her. Look."
Faris was gently offering a spoonful of dessert to Hamrat, who giggled and leaned in, glowing with delight.
"Exactly," Asna said sharply. "He does this with every girl. Hamrat today, someone else tomorrow. That's not charm-it's a show. He's not serious."
Afna said nothing, though her expression tightened slightly.
Their voices were low, but they could still hear fragments of Faris's conversation-talk of money, fame, sports cars, tournaments, designer brands. The usual.
A few minutes later, the girls at his table stood up to leave, giggling with matching gift bags in hand. Hamrat gave Faris a playful wave.
He returned it with a casual smirk.
"I'm done here," Asna said abruptly, pushing her chair back annoyed.
"I'm about to go live on IG" Afna replied, adjusting her front camera and smoothing her scarf. "This spot is perfect."
"Fine," Asna muttered, and without another word, she walked away.
---
Meanwhile, at the other table, Kamal nudged Farhan. "So... what about this girl? Is she your type?"
Faris remained quiet, swirling his drink.
Faruk leaned in. "Come on, man. Hamrat's gorgeous. Most guys would dream of being in your position."
Faris stood, glass in hand, and sighed. "It's not about that. I just haven't met anyone here who truly fits... my type."
And just as he turned around, he didn't see someone walking toward him.
Their bodies almost collided but stop because she pulled back and
His drink spilled.
Straight onto her dress.
The entire restaurant went silent.
Asna froze in shock, her heart sinking as the cold drink soaked her gown. Her eyes dropped in disbelief to the mess splattered across her clothes. She looked up, glaring.
"You..." she hissed, voice trembling with suppressed fury.
Faris stood there stunned, staring at her. He hadn't meant to do it-but he was captivated. Everything about her-her fierce eyes, the fire in her expression, the way she stood despite the mess-caught him off guard.
But she was furious.
"You ruined my dress," she snapped, arms folded tightly across her chest.
Snapping out of his daze, Faris panicked and turned to his friends. "Give me something," he said urgently.
Kamal handed him some bundle of cash without hesitation.
Faris stretched his hand toward her. "Here. This should be enough to get you a new one."
Asna blinked. Unbelievable.
She stared at the money, then crossed her arms.
"Did I ask for your money?" Her voice was cold and sharp. "If you mistakenly hit someone, don't you think the right thing to do is apologize? Do you honestly think money fixes everything?"
Faris stood speechless.
"Typical spoiled brat," she said with disgust and stormed off.
Afna had watched the scene from her seat, frozen in place. Now, she quickly stood and hurried after her cousin, calling, "Asna!"
Faris remained where he was, watching Asna leave, the cash still in his hand, a mix of shock and... intrigue flashing in his eyes.
To be continued...
This story is part of The Twins book series!
You can continue reading it by checking my profile.
Next in the series: The Twins: Twists and Turns