The Obsessed Billionaire: Boxed Set (Complete Vols. 1-5, A Billionaire Romance Series)

Home > Other > The Obsessed Billionaire: Boxed Set (Complete Vols. 1-5, A Billionaire Romance Series) > Page 13
The Obsessed Billionaire: Boxed Set (Complete Vols. 1-5, A Billionaire Romance Series) Page 13

by Camille Alexander


  Once we reached the railing area, outside the towers of containers, we had a fairly good shot of the deck of the entire aft. On each side of the ship kitchen staff and other men that didn’t work the decks were racing against some unknown clock to lay giant firehoses facing out toward the water.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Tim shouts, straining, as I am, to understand.

  “Please, stay in quarters. Danger!” The man did not sustain eye contact. He merely continued to unfurl firehoses and drag their heavy carcasses to the ship’s edge, spaced 30 or so feet apart as other crewmen did the same all the way down both sides of the boat.

  The seas were calmer here so we swayed less with the smaller wave rolls, but that did not alleviate our confusion or our growing sense of panic. Something was very wrong!

  I looked at Tim when he glanced at me, assessing something mentally. Then another crew member appeared, one we recognized, and Tim’s gaze shifted to him.

  Tim let go of my hand as he moved toward him.

  “Hey! What’s-“

  “Please! Go back to your rooms! It’s not safe out here!”

  The firehoses laid; they were now hard at work to pull them the final few feet and lash them securely to the rails.

  “I am not leaving until I understand what’s going on!” Tim leaned forward, adamantly.

  “Sir, there’s no time! Three ships were boarded by pirates in the past 12 hours all near here. Captain has ordered us to lay the water cannons—I must go!” He hurried off to help attach each hose that needed to be secured.

  Tim looked at me and said, “Run, Abda! Go to the rooms and lock the door-don’t let anyone in except me! I need to help them!” He moved toward the nearest unsecured hose.

  “No! I can help!” Tim looked back at me but I had already moved toward my own hose and reached to drag it closer to the rail.

  I was not dexterous enough to lift the giant metal heads of the hoses while also lashing them to the rail, so I opted instead for running to each one and straining with all my might until I got them as close as possible before moving on to the others.

  I would not sit in some room waiting to be a man’s next victim! Not when I could be helping to prevent it and keep us all safe!

  Chapter 8

  It turns out we did not need the water cannons. We had been close enough to Malaysia that they had sent two Naval gunboats to escort us the remaining way into Singapore. The radar indicated they had arrived just fifteen minutes before the pirates would have.

  Tim had gotten off his message to Taylor and reassured me that arrangements were being made for us to assume new identities shortly after we reached shore.

  Tonight, would be our last night aboard if all went well and the crew had prepared a special BBQ for us on the aft deck.

  When we arrived, we discovered they had decorated a bit and turned it into more of a party. I was excited!

  “Tim,” the captain said as he and the first steward pumped Tim’s hand and then mine, “We have never seen passengers jump to our assistance before.”

  “And this little lady was something!” The entire crew cheered at that. “Wow, what an amazing woman! No wilting wallflower wailer, here!”

  I grinned, embarrassed but happy, and turned towards Tim to see him beaming and nodding.

  “Yep, my wife isn’t afraid of anything!” He said, igniting another cheer from the crew, as my heart caught in my throat.

  Handshakes with their leaders complete the crew crowded around me and offered me three solo plastic cups of booze, two competing plates of food, beefy hands on my shoulders to congratulate and thank me, and rushed attempts to be the one who could be the first to push up a comfortable chair for me. One had even scrounged up a decorative pillow for me to sit on – so I rewarded him by accepting his seat. He double fist-pumped the air as he yelled in whooping pleasure much to the delight of the other crewmen, including the losers.

  I felt a flush of pleasure, and a level of appreciation I had never known before outside academics and sports. They were telling me I had been accepted into their circle because I stepped up, acted outside of my gender assigned role, and treated myself as their equal. Somehow valuing their hard work and contributing to it and their safety, meant I was not dead weight to watch out for and protect; I was shoulder-to-shoulder as their peer.

  It felt so good.

  After I enjoyed the food and beverages several of the crew heard that I was a table tennis aficionado and invited me to a game.

  Tim watched me, beaming with pride, as I beat three in a row rather soundly.

  “Forrest Gump! Forrest Gump!” Their multilingual accents sounded ridiculous as they shouted at me, but I loved every minute of it. I was surprised and delighted by how good-natured they all were.

  Tim came over after the third round and pulled me into an embrace; I felt happy and free and important for the first time since we’d entered the Catacombs. Then it dawned on me that none of it had been predicated on my looks, my achievements, or my lineage.

  I was being celebrated because I had been human and treated them as humans. Because I had seen a need and jumped in.

  I knew, in that moment, I wanted more.

  More of this. More of living authentically. More of making a difference as a person, not an icon.

  I did not know how I could accomplish that, but I sensed with Tim’s support I could.

  Chapter 9

  We docked in Singapore just after midnight, and though we were invited to deboard the next morning, I was eager to move on and get settled. Just one step closer to new identities that Abda could be more comfortable with.

  We caught a cab to our hostel as listed in the neon envelope we found in our room after the party. Now that had been surprising and it had made us both wonder how far their reach, how close the tabs they kept on us were, and whether they had protectors assigned to us. The latter was a thought that would have been comforting if we could have it confirmed, but there was no sense in trusting in security that you could not be certain was there.

  We had not been thrilled to discover our next accommodations would be the shared dorm-style room of a foreign hostel. Surprisingly, Abda did not make a big fuss about it. No tears or temper tantrums. Just one heavy sigh and then acquiescence.

  I wondered if her easy adjustment of the news would last after she saw the room.

  We would see.

  Chapter 10

  It was uncomfortable to be on land after all the rolling of the waves and I think I was more nauseous from the stability than I had been offshore.

  We checked in, purchased some bottled water, and then made our way to a room that had four bunkbeds. We were told we were sharing the room with two backpacker fellows from Oslo.

  I bunked under Abda, mostly so I would be able to watch out for her, and we shoved our suitcases under my bed for security. She was quiet and withdrawn, but her high spirits from the party had altered her in some ways I could not put my finger on. I was left to wonder about her state of mind.

  Sleep came quickly, and I was shocked to discover it was well past noon when we woke up. I suppose life at sea can take its toll. In a perfect world we would be at the Four Seasons, in one of their private mansions, or someplace even more secure and remote but equally as luxurious. Despite our terrible accommodations and the snoring roommates that shared our space, Abda did not seem to be struggling. Maybe she would get the swing of this yet.

  I convinced her to go explore the city’s street vendors with me. We got directions at the front desk where we were encouraged to take one of the trishaws to Outram if we wanted to visit food stalls, and the ‘boat b’ after dark if we wanted to cruise down the Singapore River and see the light and water shows. We looked at each other, grinned, and simultaneously said, “YES!”

  Abda grabbed my hand, snatched the brochure offered, and pulled me quickly outdoors as I laughed at her playful exuberance. It had been a long time since I had seen her feel this free. The party last night and th
e sleep today must have done wonders.

  The trishaw was an odd-shaped pedicab. It was two seats situated side-car style to a bicycle, as one complete unit. Our seats had a pull-up awning to block the sun or the rain if we needed it, but we left it down, not wanting to miss anything of this beautiful day and amazing city. This style of pedicab allowed us to be alongside the driver, which invoked more conversations than yelling at his back while he responded over his shoulder would. That our driver spoke English made us feel lucky.

  We spent the next several hours rolling past city sights such as the National Museum with its Neo-Palladian and Renaissance style architecture, the absolutely stunning giant vertical gardens of the Gardens by the Bay, and the dramatic Henderson Waves pedestrian bridge which the driver assured us was the highest in the world. We marveled at cultural details on the buildings that we pointed out to each other, high-fived with children and tourists as we passed them in the street, and were even treated to flower necklaces by our driver when he hoped off briefly to purchase them and surprise us.

  Eventually, feeling rather famished, he helped us find the two food stalls that had been the first to earn Michelin stars. Each food stall seemed to make only one specialty item each, so a full dinner required multiple stops, but we didn’t care. We invited our driver, Tan Kin, to join us. After he secured the trishaw, we grabbed food at several places he suggested where their specialty had been made for four or more generations and had perfected their dishes – hence the reason two had so notably been honored.

  I was glad to see her eyes sparkling and feel like she was coming back into herself. The food felt festive, indulgent, and satisfied our bellies as Tan Kin regaled us with stories of his proud country and its offerings.

  After dinner we said our goodbyes and compensated him generously for having been such a good host. Then we walked, holding hands in silence, for a long while.

  Eventually, we purchased some sparklers and headed over to the park. There we ran through the grass and past flowering trees in the dark holding hands as we watched the sparks trail behind us into the night.

  When the last one was exhausted and we were left in the magical night air, exhausted, satiated, and filled again, I felt Abda tug on my arm until I turned to her. She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me tight as she whispered ‘thank you’ into my ear.

  I moved back just far enough to sweep in for a kiss and almost instantly I felt her surrender to me in a way that hadn't occurred before. My woman, this girl, was finally letting me in. What had been hot and intense before now crossed a threshold into something new and profound.

  I got lost. I wanted to kiss her for the rest of my life.

  After a long while, where we lost track of time and minutes could have been hours, we folded into a comforting embrace, still under the Singapore lover’s spell.

  “I love you, Abda, Perri, Jannah. Please say you’ll be mine.”

  She looked at me with shining eyes and a broad smile and said, “Yes. I am most definitely yours.”

  Chapter 11

  In the wee hours of the next day I awoke, panicked, to find myself face-to-face with Taylor, who had been shaking me.

  “Sir! We must go!” His frantic look and firm hold helped me orient myself coming out of such a deep slumber. He was whispering, as six other men stood guard in the room, all bearing machine guns, watching his back. Our backpacking roommates seemed to have been escorted out before us.

  I felt Abda wake and lean over the bed as Taylor placed one finger to his lips to warn her to stay silent.

  He motioned us to follow and Abda jumped down before I grabbed her hand and followed him, nodding to members of my security team as I did.

  We left our luggage behind, went down the back stairwell, and out the back door into a waiting paneled van with blacked out windows.

  Once we were speeding away, Taylor offered us suitable day clothing and shoes.

  “Make a wall,” he barked to the men who quickly shifted to place their backs to us, blocking anyone from seeing us dress, especially Abda.

  As we scrambled into our new clothes, Taylor said, “Sir, both of you should ditch your disguises, they have been discovered and have been plastered on wanted signs all over the city.”

  I ripped off my balding cap, yanked out my dental coverings, and pulled out that god-awful belly pad that I had cursed at more than once.

  “What happened?! Why are you here?” I asked gravely, my mind whirring with details and possibilities. “Report.”

  As soon as we were changed Abda- Perri moved into the circle of my arms, and I was once again reminded of her young age. Nineteen is too young for this bullshit! No matter how worldly she was!

  “Her father infiltrated the Catacombs,” Taylor said, which felt like a bucket of ice water thrown in my face. “He has offered one billion euro for her unharmed return, and every mercenary, bounty hunter, and private military in the world has taken up the case.”

  I was winded; stunned. No one would refuse to pursue a target at that price – no matter what the cost to their person or enterprise.

  That was a gamechanger.

  Chapter 12

  “How many do we have?” I ask.

  “Eighty. Thirteen armored SUVs surrounding us now, one helo tracking us, 20 subsurface in the bay where we have staged your exfil, a command center with another dozen running real-time intelligence, six undercover tourist boats in the bay with two-man teams each, and 20 or so others as undercover tourists in the area surrounding the bay.

  “It’s not enough.” I state it flatly. My mind spun details rapid-fire. There were easily a hundred armies in route to us. Mafia crews looking to make a next-level win, random ex-military soloists with unlimited resources built during decades of work with the CIA and their foreign counterparts, militia specialists from countries in need of those resources or the King as their ally, and anyone looking to curry favor with him.

  Taylor looked at me, his eyes steeled for whatever came next. “What are you thinking?”

  “No. This has to be solved. Now. Tonight. Too many people are going to get hurt, not to mention bystanders.” I looked at Perri, soaked up her innocence, and knew what I had to do. I kissed her forehead then turned back to Taylor.

  “Burner phone.”

  Taylor reached in his pocket and handed one to me.

  “Tim-,” she shook her head, “I mean- Michael! What are you doing!?” She was panicked.

  I ignored her and began to dial.

  “Michael! Please! No! What are you doing!!”

  Before I pressed the last number I looked up at her, took in the magnificence of her beauty now that it was revealed to me fully again, smiled tenderly, leaned forward for one last, soft kiss, and said, “Do you trust me, Perri?”

  She looked at me, tears welling up in her terrified eyes. Then, she nodded.

  I closed my eyes briefly as I nodded back. Then I pressed the last number and lifted the phone to my ear.

  It rang twice before it picked up.

  I took a breath and said, “Sire.”

  Chapter 13

  It required only a minute or so to ask him to withdraw the bounty, offer myself to him, and secure his agreement that Abda would not be pursued until he, I, and his wife spoke, face to face.

  Perri had buried her face in her hands, sobbing, certain I was on my way to be killed.

  I had to believe I wasn’t.

  Chapter 14

  I arrived at the Royal Palace under heavy guard. Taylor saw me drive away, sworn to protect Perri with his life. Twenty miles from the Palace I was met with a veritable army. They abandoned my car and transferred me into one of the King’s many sedans.

  Now, stepping out, to a place that had welcomed me warmly on many occasions in the past, I felt a thread of sweat snaking down my spine.

  If I could not trust in the irrationality of a father and a king who was my friend, I knew I could trust in the sanity, reason, and influence of his powerful wife who was
also my friend.

  I was escorted inside, into the visitor’s library, where I was made to wait for two hours.

  The door finally opened and in walked Peté, the king’s personal attaché, who said, “You may follow me.”

  We headed into the interior of the massive building, eventually going up one flight of stairs, which I knew was taking us to the throne room. This was the space where they entertained heads of state, rulers of dynasties, foreign dignitaries, and business titans.

  If he wanted to meet there it only meant one thing: I was being treated like a hostile enemy and formality would be his sharpest weapon. It was a blow to remind me we were not friends; we were not family.

  My heart was sad for the lost ground of our friendship, but it was equally full with the love of their daughter.

  When I entered the room I paused, taking in the grandeur. The room was easily 80’ in length, and almost as wide, littered with golden, reflective columns which held up a massive and ornate fresco that detailed the lives and glory of his people. The walls lengthwise appeared to be covered in arched windows, but no natural light came in, so they were covered or blocked in some way.

  King Hallella and Queen Rondenia were seated at the far end.

  I stood waiting quietly until we were left alone, and I had received the indication that I was permitted to move forward.

  It did not come quickly.

  Finally, the king’s hand came up a few inches and I knew that was my cue, however begrudgingly it was given.

  Once I was twenty feet away, I paused, awaiting further instructions.

  The king was a stoic man by nature, but at this distance I could feel beneath it his rage.

  Rondenia, my beloved friend, looked strained. Her usually smooth face looked rugged with the extended struggle and my heart bottomed out at the sight.

 

‹ Prev