“Thank you so much.” The kid took the phone in both hands. The nervous energy clinging to the kid faded away and a light returned to his eyes.
Nasar kept his smile in place until after the door closed behind the teenager. He lowered onto the stool and cradled his head in his hands.
His family.
His boy would be about the age of that kid if he hadn’t been killed.
Nasar drew in a deep breath through his nose.
Soon, very soon, he’d get his revenge. It wouldn’t bring his family back, but he’d make others pay for what had happened to his family. They hadn’t hurt anyone, and yet they’d been killed.
And for what?
Nothing.
Not a damned thing.
Nasar pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at it.
If only he could will something to happen.
As if the universe knew he needed the boost, a call popped up.
He answered after one ring.
“Hello?”
“Plane’s off,” the man on the other end of the line said.
“Good. Did anyone see you?”
“No.”
Nasar nodded despite the other man not being able to see him.
“Our people are waiting,” the man added.
“I know. You did good today. Now, get rid of the phone and go home.”
“Yes, sir.”
The call ended, but Nasar kept staring at the screen.
For everything to go off without a hitch, they needed the money and more equipment. Nasar wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing, but he had his orders. Now all he could do was wait.
Eventually something had to go right.
SATURDAY. SAUDI PRIVATE Aviation. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
Killam was beyond ready to disembark the plane. He’d anticipated a pit stop to get a few moments alone at some point during the trip, but Yousef had insisted no one could get out when they stopped to refuel. Killam hadn’t even been certain what country they were in until he’d turned his phone on for a brief moment.
The cousins were more annoying than normal. Or maybe it was throwing Ivy into the mix. He just didn’t know and he wanted to be done with this leg of the trip.
He drummed his fingers on the table, staring out the windows as the plane made small movements.
Jabby wouldn’t use one of the terminals. His security would want the plane stopped well away from anything and to move the prince from plane to vehicle swiftly. The only person allowed off with Jabby would be Yousef. The rest of them would have to wait a while longer before their rides came.
Killam glanced over his shoulder at the door separating the two cabins. Ivy had slipped away after it was clear nothing of value would be said, and he’d made use of the time to sleep. Or try to.
He doubted there would be time for actual rest once Jabby got revved up.
Just thinking about the next few days pre-exhausted Killam.
Jabby was a child. A boy with too much money and a high sex drive. Sure, the first trip out here had been wild and Killam had enjoyed himself. It was hard to not get caught up in the energy of it all. But experiencing it time after time, the veneer had worn off.
The hatch opened and a familiar security guard’s head popped up. Normally a few of the guards traveled with the prince, but they hadn’t this time.
Was that odd? It had happened before.
In short order, Yousef collected Jabby. Killam saw Yousef hand Jabby his phone, so there went the hopes of snagging it while no one was watching.
Killam doubted there was anything of use on the phone, but no one had asked him.
He leaned his head back and let time flow by him.
Waiting was an art. A skill he’d had to hone. Things rarely happened on his timetable. That was a lesson he hoped Ivy already knew. Otherwise this job might be a whole lot more dangerous for the both of them.
The others began to talk, one paced, but still time dragged on before the pilot came over the loudspeaker and invited them to disembark.
Killam pushed up and managed to be one of the first out of the plane.
He waved at the familiar man standing at the passenger door to the limo Jabby had provided for his guests. There were two limos for the women.
Too bad Killam couldn’t rescue Ivy from the drive. Now that they were in Saudi Arabia, a whole other set of rules applied. Until they reached Jabby’s private estate, Killam wouldn’t so much as glance sideways at any woman. It just wasn’t safe and no matter how much time he spent here, the rules never seemed the same.
An attendant waited nearby with a golf cart. Killam jogged to the man and greeted him by name. He got out a greeting and offered the man a small gift of chocolate and a variety of other snacks. The beaming smile Killam got in return was well worth the effort of procuring the snacks and protecting them until their arrival.
Five minutes later his guide stopped in front of a hangar. The massive doors were open and the hatch of the cargo plane open.
Killam’s attention, however, went to the familiar black SUV. He knew that license plate. But where were the flags? The ones that announced someone important was inside?
He pushed his sunglasses up his nose and watched Yousef emerge from a small building attached to the next hangar.
Killam strode forward, toward the cargo plane and out of sight.
What the hell was Jabby and Yousef up to now?
Killam wished he could ignore it, but with Ivy here and the American government looking at Jabby this closely, Killam couldn’t ignore anything.
He would have rather focused on his task, overseeing the unloading of the cars he’d brought for Jabby to consider. He always bought one, sometimes several, which made this trip worth it.
But Killam needed to know what was going on.
The truck that would transport most of the cars arrived.
Truth was, he’d been in and out of his airport often enough the crew knew what needed to be done.
Did he dare risk a look? See what Yousef had been up to?
Killam flagged down one of the guys in charge. “I’m going to hit the bathroom. Yell for me if you need anything.”
The other man gave Killam two thumbs up.
Chances were only half of what he’d said had been understood.
Rather than head up to the maintenance toilets, he ducked out of the hangar. With all of the crew focused on the unloading and loading, there weren’t many others about.
He stuck close to the side of the building, scanning for movement, then jogged across the distance between the two buildings.
The windows to the small building where Yousef had been were dark.
Killam peered in, but the space was empty. As if no one used the little office.
So why had Yousef and Jabby been here instead of on their way already?
“Well, shit,” Killam muttered.
Just what he needed. More problems. More things to worry about.
He knew Jabby had his fingers in a lot of pies. Most of them weren’t considered legal in many countries. That was Jabby’s usefulness to his family, his connections and business partners.
Could be whatever they were doing had nothing to do with why Ivy was here.
Yeah.
Killam just had to remind himself of that.
Maybe, in a day or two, he’d believe the steaming pile of shit.
Something was up and he wasn’t happy about being part of it.
He snapped a few pictures before circling to the back of his hangar and making use of the bathroom. Even if he didn’t have to go now, it was a good hour and a half to Jabir’s private residence where he kept the girls and maintained his party lifestyle. And Killam was going to need every mile to prepare himself.
He was too damn old for this.
5.
Sunday. Jabir al Saud’s Home. Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.
How was it Ivy could have all of the hangover with none of the alcohol?
It wasn’t fair
.
Why was she awake anyway?
After arriving late in the day, they’d been driven in a hot, cramped limo to the mansion.
There was a stark difference between the arid land outside the walls of the mansion’s grounds and the lushness inside. The man’s very home was a social commentary about the disproportionate way of everything here.
They’d had an hour to pick rooms, freshen up, change and be downstairs. But they hadn’t seen Jabir at all. Instead, they’d been packed into a dining room, fed and told to wait for hours.
Ivy and London had stuck close to each other, watching and feeling out the vibe.
There it was again. A soft shuffling sound.
She cracked open an eye.
A short, curvy figure tip-toed into the bathroom.
Their roommate.
Everyone was three or four to a room. Ivy had been standing there trying to figure out how the picking process worked when London had hauled her into the little room and claimed it as theirs. They’d figured out pretty fast the room was already occupied by one person, but at least they had each other. Ivy wasn’t even certain she’d seen the woman.
Did they even know her name?
Ivy squinted around the room.
The windows were covered with an ornate shutter that blocked out most of the light. The curtains did the rest of the job; only one panel had gotten caught on a suitcase.
There were three queen beds, each with four massive, gilded posters, set up on three walls. Each bed had a nightstand to the right and a wardrobe on the left with a dresser at the foot of the bed. The theme of the space was gold and gaudy, that was for damn sure.
Their mystery roommate had clearly been there for a while. She had a photograph on the nightstand and a bowl for catching random bits. Her suitcases were stacked neatly on top of the wardrobe and there was a green, fluffy throw blanket that didn’t exactly go with the room lying across the foot of the rumpled bed.
Ivy glanced at London, who was still wearing a sleep mask.
Somehow she’d found a friend in London. Someone Ivy hoped she could trust. But what she needed now was information, and the best place to get that was someone who’d been around for a while.
Despite the pounding in her head, Ivy threw back the blankets and got out of bed. She shoved her feet into slippers—no one was to walk around barefoot—and headed for the bathroom.
Like the rest of the house, even the bathroom seemed made to serve a small family.
She tapped on the door, but when she didn’t hear anyone let herself in.
There were two toilet stalls, two frosted glass showers and one soaker tub.
One of the toilet stall doors was shut.
“Morning,” Ivy said softly. Or more accurately, croaked.
“Hi?”
Ivy ducked into the other stall before her bladder burst.
She’d guzzled water so she wouldn’t have this kind of jet lag. What the hell?
By the time she’d finished, her third roommate was at the three-sink vanity. Ivy washed her hands at the middle sink where her things were, and glanced at the other woman brushing her teeth.
She was Asian, with nutmeg skin and features like a doll. Her hair was up under a satin turban and the rest of her was swathed in a green, fluffy robe. She was cute despite the nervous glances Ivy’s way.
“I am so sorry, but I don’t remember your name,” Ivy said as she dried her hands. “I feel like a complete jerk.”
The other woman slowed her brushing and blinked at Ivy.
“Oh, my God. I’m sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head and laughed. “It’s not like you can answer me right now.”
Then again, did she speak English?
It was very possible she didn’t.
Shit.
Ivy hadn’t considered that.
The other girl finished and rinsed out her mouth. She glanced at Ivy before using the hand towel to dry her face.
“I’m Nor,” she said softly. “Nice to meet you.”
Relief flooded Ivy. The last thing she needed was another language barrier.
“Nor. That’s a cute name.” Ivy grabbed the headband out of her bag and used it to secure her hair back. “How long have you been here?”
“Oh, I think... Two years?”
Ivy paused, pulling her face soap out of the top drawer. “Two years? Wow. I guess I know who to come to if I have questions.”
Nor kept glancing at Ivy. There was a nervous quality to the woman that made Ivy wonder what the hell had happened.
She decided to act normal. She went through the motions of washing her face and using the toner she’d gotten as part of a Christmas exchange between the Aegis Group women. Melody Nguyen had given them all skincare kits at some point and gotten everyone hooked on her special brand of skin crack.
Ivy had gone from the girl who used the same soap on her face and body to having a special body soap, two kinds of face soap, toner, emulsion, moisturizer and even creams she used at night. The routine had become her way of winding down after a long day. It was the only kind of pampering she could do consistently, no matter where in the world she went.
Nor took off the turban and let down waist length, wheat blonde hair.
Ivy kept her eyes straight ahead as Nor began carefully sectioning out the hair and brushing it. At first it was jarring simply because Ivy hadn’t been expecting it. But now, stealing little glimpses at Nor, she could see how well done the hair actually was. The bit of darker color at her roots made the fade seem natural, and the color complimented her skin tone.
Two years.
That was a lot of time to spend here. Just how many women changed something about themselves to appeal to one man?
“Is it too soon to ask what happened for there to be so many vacancies?” Ivy asked.
Nor paused in brushing out her hair to look at Ivy again. Judging by her wide eyes, it wasn’t a good story.
The bathroom door opened and London shuffled in. She’d traded out her glam for pajama pants with holes in them and a shirt that was so threadbare it was see-through.
“Morning,” she croaked.
“It’s not just me then?” Ivy turned, taking in the full effect of the rough night.
London squinted. “What?”
“I feel hungover, but I didn’t drink.”
“Yeah. Hungover. That’s a good word for it.” She shuffled into the bathroom.
Could it just be the time change and the travel? Or had something else happened?
“I was asking Nor about what happened. Have you met Nor?”
“Hi, Nor,” London said from the toilet closet.
“That’s London.” Ivy nodded at the bathroom.
Was it possible she’d landed some decent roommates?
London joined them at the sinks, openly studying Nor now. “That’s a really great weave. It looks so real.”
Nor flushed. “Thanks, I’m still getting used to it.”
“First time?”
“Yes.”
London made a face. “Is it still pulling?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, God. That was always the worst part. I’ve had extensions tons of time, so I can help you if you want me to.” She turned the tap off and hopped up to sit on the vanity while her hands soaked her pants. “So, the drama? What happened?”
“Um...” Nor glanced over her shoulder at the door.
How had such a nervous person lasted so long in this environment? Or was the nervousness something new?
Ivy reached out and closed the door. “It’s just us.”
Nor sighed, her shoulders sagging. “It’s all my fault.”
Ivy glanced at London, who stared at Nor with raised brows.
Yeah, Ivy didn’t think this mousey woman had it in her to start anything.
“How’d you end up here?” Ivy asked, hoping a simpler question might ease Nor into things. “Two years is a long time.”
“It might be more than two years.�
� Nor set the hairbrush down, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “At first, it was because my family needed the money. I met Prince Jabir on a cruise ship. I was singing in a No Doubt cover band. He was... He was so nice to me. And then I came here and he’s still nice to me but it’s different.”
Ivy nodded.
She’d been a conquest. Now she was a trophy. A man like Jabir wouldn’t chase something he had. But Ivy doubted Nor wanted to hear that.
“And the drama? Why do you think it’s your fault?” London asked.
Nor stared at the floor, arms wrapped around herself. “I knew, I’ve always known, that I’m not the only one who has...feelings for Prince Jabir.”
The poor thing.
She was in love with the man.
Ivy mourned for this woman. She couldn’t judge her. She had no idea what Nor had lived through or what it was like here, but Ivy did know there was no happy ending for her and the prince.
“There was another girl, an Italian. She’s gone now. But she was always talking about the promises Prince Jabir made her. How he was going to marry her. How much she loved him. We all know he doesn’t love us. Maybe he’s fond of us, some more than others, but he doesn’t love us. I know he doesn’t love me back. She started getting jealous any time he spent the night with someone else. She wasn’t a favorite, never had been, so she spent a lot of time picking fights with people.”
“Sounds like a great gal,” Ivy drawled.
Good riddance.
Nor nodded and a smile briefly curved her lips. But it was gone in an instant. She gestured at her hair. “I, um, I’ve been lightening my hair a little every two months. Obviously I’m not naturally blonde. He likes blondes, you know?”
“It looks really good on you,” London said.
“Yeah, whoever is doing the color is really good,” Ivy agreed.
“Thanks.” Nor sucked down a breath. Was she about to cry? “It took me almost a year to get this shade. Anyway, the first night after my last lightening there was a party. Prince Jabir kept me on his arm all night. I felt like... It felt like the beginning all over again.”
Ivy braced herself for the fall.
“This other girl hated me. I became her target. If we were here, in our wing of the house, she was following me around, telling lies about me, starting things with other girls. My friend, Esther, got sick of it and started standing up to her. I know I should have done it, but... I didn’t want to fight. I never did.”
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