The Sheiks of the Arabian Coast Series: 5 Book Box Set

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The Sheiks of the Arabian Coast Series: 5 Book Box Set Page 45

by Erin Snihur


  Laughing through the choking, Karos meets her glare and the click and feel of something sharp at her stomach has Sophie tensing.

  “Let go, little krolik, I wouldn’t want to get any blood on my clothes and draw attention to myself during the wedding,” Karos growls low.

  Releasing him as quickly as he orders, Sophie takes a step back as Karos flips the switchblade closed and carefully places it back in his pants pocket.

  “What wedding?” Sophie asks, afraid of the answer.

  Standing once more as he straightens his suit jacket and sleeves, Karos shoots her a grin, “Don’t worry, little krolik, your precious prince is safe.”

  Mind racing, Sophie whispers, “Then, Alia…”

  Grinning maliciously, Karos nods, “Yes, the sweet little Princess Alia will be married tonight to the love of her life. I recently adopted him from Russia. My charming nephew, Richard. I believe you know him?”

  Time seems to stand still and, before Sophie knows it, she is thrashing against the bars screaming obscenities at Karos who calmly stands behind the bars and watches her as she has a meltdown.

  “You bastard! How could you! He’s just a child!” Sophie wailed as she slid down the bars and collapsed into a heap in tears.

  Shaking his head, Karos smiles coolly, “No. He’s not a child, sweet Sophie, he’s a pawn in a much bigger scheme.”

  From the gleam in Karos’ eye, Sophie shudders, “Don’t hurt him, please.”

  Snorting, Karos walks down the wall of the cell and stops at the corner, all the while Sophie watching him as if he is a prowling tiger.

  “For what I have planned, dear Sophie, I need both he and the precious Princess Alia to be alive,” Karos croons and pauses.

  “Your prince, however…” he mentions before trailing off.

  Blood freezing, Sophie feels her breath leave her lungs as her heart hammers in her chest, “What…?”

  Clutching his chest with a hand, Karos smirks, “My dear, Sophie, how else is Richard to become Sheik if there is a Crown Prince in the way? His father already hates him and, after discovering it was the Prince who stole Hattan’s Crown jewels, I am sure the great Sheik will do everything in his power to bring down his own son. Including marrying his daughter to Richard, playing right into my hand. Tonight, the country of Hattan will go to sleep with only a memory of their old Sheik.”

  Throwing herself at the bars again, Sophie slams her fists against them, “No! You can’t do this! I’ll tell someone.”

  Spinning around in her cell, Sophie shrieks, “Guards! Guards! Help!”

  When no one answers, Karos’ chuckle fills the empty air, “My dear, Sophie, did you really think I’d let any part of my plan have a loose end? Don’t worry my dear, you shall remain in this prison until the day you die. Which should be in a week, no one will be coming for you my dear. I suggest you make your peace with your maker.”

  With that, Sophie collapses to her knees in tears, wailing for all she would lose tonight. Her brother. And Tariq. Sweet, Tariq, who could set her skin on fire with just a look. Curling into a ball, Sophie shuddered through the tears and sent a silent prayer to Tariq.

  I’m so sorry, Tariq. I love you.

  15

  Tariq didn’t know how he’d managed to make it through the pre-dinner Alia had planned. He’d skirted around an excuse that Sophie was tired and wanted to sleep until the celebration started. His sister, too in love with her Russian, accepted his excuse with ease. Richard, on the other hand, had looked at him suspiciously.

  As Alia was examining a tray of sweets during dessert, Tariq faced Richard, his stare hard and cold as he spoke softly in Russian, “Your sister, Sophie Marks, she’s in danger. Do you know anything about that?”

  Eyes wide, Richard shakes his head as he answers, keeping his eyes between Tariq and Alia, “I don’t have a sister, sir.”

  “Fine then. You don’t want to betray him, the Snake, but just know, if my sister or Sophie come to any harm, I will not hesitate to tear you and the Snake apart. Karos’ precious henchmen won’t be able to stop me.”

  Squinting, Tariq stares Richard down for a few minutes until his sister returns and he faces Alia with a cool smile, “I think I’m going to go check on my fiancé.”

  Alia brightens and smiles up at her brother, completely oblivious. Exactly how Tariq would like her to continue to be, for now.

  “If Sophie needs a dress for tonight, I have some that might fit her.”

  Reaching out to tweak his sister’s nose, Tariq smiles and pulls her up and into his arms for a tight bear hug. “Are you sure he’s the one, sister?” Tariq whispers in Arabic in her ear.

  Pulling back, Alia smiles down at Richard who meets her smile hesitantly and then gazed back up at Tariq, with young, innocent love in her eyes.

  “Yes, brother.”

  I pray you are right.

  Pulling away, Tariq strides out, wincing as his sister’s laughter and her conversation with her intended echoes down the halls. Stopping before Teresa’s room, Tariq sighs in relief at the sight of her slowly rocking Xavier as the nursemaid knits in the corner of the room.

  Smiling gently, Teresa whispers, “I was wondering when we’d get a chance to see each other again. Your father’s barred Margot and I from leaving our chambers. I’m so sorry I won’t be able to support you and Sophie tonight.”

  Tariq scans the room, faintly making out the familiar uniforms of Hattan’s royal guard standing watch on Teresa’s balcony. Seeing the direction of his eyes, Teresa smirks and speaks lowly in Arabic, a language she is still trying to learn from her husband, Amoz.

  “They have been watching us since we arrived. Padma stayed up most of the night making sure they didn’t try to kidnap Xavier,” Teresa crooned as she slowed the rocking of her son.

  Caressing the boy’s small head, Tariq moved closer, appearing as though he were examining the baby, “Sophie is missing.”

  Fearful eyes meeting his, Teresa’s bottom lip trembles, “I need my husband. I don’t think I can take one more night of this place. Why hasn’t Amoz arrived yet?”

  Leaning down to press his lips to Xavier’s head, Tariq meets Teresa’s eyes, “There were complications. Hattan has raised their borders. No one gets in or out. Any planes flying in our airspace will be gunned down.”

  Eyes wide at the thought of her husband being gunned down, Teresa’s arms tighten on the baby, causing him to stir and cry out. Scanning the room, Tariq takes the opportunity and stops Teresa from soothing the baby, “Do exactly as I say. When I have the guards distracted go to the bathroom and pull the golden candelabra attached to the wall. The wall will open. There should a safe room. Stay there until Amoz or I come for you.”

  Nodding in understanding. Tariq stalks to the balcony and smirks at the guards, pulling a few cigars out of his suit pocket. Offering them to the two men, Tariq grins as their eyes brighten.

  “Gentlemen. A thank you for guarding these women so nicely,” Tariq croons.

  The brawny one, reaches for the cigars first and snorts, “Yeah, that Sheikha is a hot piece.”

  Insides boiling, Tariq tries to suppress his glare as he hands the cigars over and briefly glanced behind him, thankful that the two women and little Xavier are gone, hopefully safely in the safehouse that only specific members of the royal family know of.

  Turning back to the guards, Tariq slaps the brawny one on the back a little harder than necessary, “Keep your eyes on the sky tonight gentlemen. My father plans to have a terrific light show and I’m sure you’ll all enjoy it.”

  Inwardly, Tariq knew that if their eyes were truly on the sky, they might miss the fact that the insurgents had even invaded before it was too late. Tonight, would be a night all of Hattan would remember for decades to come.

  Tariq sneered at the sight before him, standing on the upper balcony of the palace’s ballroom, overlooking the crowds that had gathered to celebrate his father’s reign as Sheik of Hattan. Clenching his fists, Tariq stuffed
them in the pockets of his suit jacket, to hide his fury. Scanning the crowds, Tariq finds his sister and her intended, Richard, as they conversed with a few of his father's advisors.

  Scanning the room further, Tariq’s eyes were drawn to every dark haired woman with pretty blue eyes. None of them compared to his Sophie. Tariq had searched all over the palace and even inquired about Sophie with the servants. His father’s spies. He knew his father had to have had something to do with her disappearance.

  Instead of worrying about the backlash of upsetting Tariq, his father could be seen amongst his affluent sheep of followers. Each vying for his attention so that they might retain their riches and standing in Hattan. It disgusted Tariq. Didn’t these people realize that beyond these walls, there were real people who could use just an ounce of the jewels they were wearing tonight to feed their families for a year or more.

  Pulling his hands from his pockets, Tariq grasped the railing of the balcony as he glared down at the masses, not caring who saw. People milled about behind him and Tariq didn’t even care when a figure approached him and stood at his side, hands grasping the balcony railing, mimicking Tariq’s position.

  “Pitiful, isn’t it?” the man next to Tariq murmured, drawing Tariq’s attention.

  Casting the man a sideways glance, Tariq scanned the man from the top of his slicked black hair to his dark suit and dark tie. His skin was pale and his eyes didn’t meet Tariq’s as he scanned the ballroom and their patrons.

  “What?” Tariq asked, wanting to get rid of the man, as he was in no mood for conversation. Especially to one who seemed to only speak to him because of Tariq’s position as the Sheik of Hattan’s son. It was why he hated these parties. It was all for show. An attempt to gain the royals’ favor and eye.

  Continuing to not look at him, the man sneered, his accent becoming familiar. Russian, Tariq mused.

  “It is pitiful that the people of Hattan must suffer in order to amass such a party,” the man huskily answered, his voice never wavering.

  Tariq’s eyes sharpened over the man as he turned to face the suspicious Russian. Finally, the man seemed to smile a little, haunting smile and then turned to face Tariq. Meeting his cold dark eyes, Tariq feels himself freeze, though his hand instantly moves to the handgun hidden in the back of his pants.

  Karos Colchik, the Russian Snake.

  Eyes sharpening and zeroing in on Tariq’s hand, Karos grins as he toasts his drink in his direction, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, your Highness. Innocent people could get hurt. People that I’m sure you’ve worked too hard for too long to protect.”

  Eyes widening at his threat, Tariq briefly glanced toward his sister where she was dancing with Richard, but it wasn’t them he was focused on. It was the hulking men who seemed so out of place in the crowd that Tariq realized Karos hadn’t come alone.

  Realizing perhaps Karos knew where Sophie was, Tariq removed his hand from the gun and scanned the balcony, ensuring no one had noticed his slip up, before glaring at Karos.

  “What have you done to Sophie?”

  Feigning innocence, Karos holds his hands up in peace, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should ask your father. I’m sure he knows all about her disappearance.”

  Fists clenching, Tariq growls and takes a step forward, “If one hair on her head is harmed and I find out you had something to do with it, you won’t be able to hide behind threats.”

  Finishing the rest of his champagne, Karos’ grin widens. “Perhaps you should focus on other more important people, your Highness, instead of common thieves like Ms. Marks. Though she did exactly as requested. Worth every penny I spent.”

  “You’re lying,” Tariq snarled, fingers aching to wrap around the pathetic man’s throat.

  “Like I said, your Highness, focus on those in your class. Especially now that your sister and her intended have fled the party,” Karos quipped back.

  Forgetting the Russian man, Tariq stormed back to the balcony and scanned the ballroom for Alia and Richard. A brief piece of fabric that looked similarly to Alia’s dress that she’d raved about for twenty minutes when he’d first escorted her down from her chambers. Her intended, Richard, had been asked to escort his uncle, who’d only arrived shortly before the celebration began. Tariq hadn’t even met the man and neither had Alia who worried if he would like her.

  Now, all Tariq could wonder was where Alia was now. He couldn’t bear to lose both Sophie and Alia in the same night. Ignoring the crowds of people, Tariq races down the stairs of the balcony, but not before pulling out his burner phone and texting the number he prayed would answer.

  16

  Pushing past men and women in the crowd, Tariq refuses to care what they think of him. After tonight, they wouldn’t care what happened, as long as they left the palace unscathed.

  Storming down the hallway he’d seen Alia being ushered down by a pair of what he believed were Karos’ men, Tariq stopped before the only doors that had light shining from the crack. His father's personal study.

  Standing before the doors, Tariq hesitated. He wasn’t sure what he would find behind them. Hearing his sister’s upset words muffled from behind the wood, Tariq steeled his resolve and pushed open the doors, startling the group of people behind them.

  Tariq wasn’t sure what was happening. Three of who he assumed were Karos’ men all stood on the outskirts of the room, his father stood between Alia and Richard. The newly engaged couple were holding hands and his father had a few pieces of paper in his hands. Eyes widening in realization, Tariq snarled, his eyes burning with hatred.

  “What is going on here?”

  Alia’s eyes moved from Richard and then back on Tariq. Her bottom lip was trembling and Richard looked just as she did. A fearful kid pulled into an adults twisted game.

  When no one answered, Tariq moved further into the room, advancing on his father, not caring that the three Russian muscle men were advancing on him as well, but still keeping their distance.

  “What is going on, father?”

  Lips twitching in time with his right eye, Abbas raspy voice is all Tariq takes in as his father steps around Alia and Richard, blocking them from Tariq’s view.

  “Why, son, you were just about to miss the union of Alia and Richard. They wish to add even more reasons to celebrate this night.”

  In disbelief, Tariq pushed his father aside, taking joy at the fact that the old man stumbled a bit before one of the Russians caught him. Pulling his sister away from Richard, Tariq gives her a little shake.

  “Alia, what are you doing?” Tariq whispers vehemently.

  “I…I don’t know,” Alia whispers back, her eyes darting from Tariq to Richard and then to their father who glares at the both of them.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Tariq murmurs.

  “He’s right, Alia, you don’t,” their father croons softly as his voice grows colder with every step he takes toward them.

  Facing their father in confusion, Tariq watches as their father snaps his fingers and motions to the mysterious men in Tariq’s direction, “Arrest him.”

  “What?” Alia shrieks at the same time Tariq does.

  As the men advance and pull Tariq away from Alia and place his hands behind his back, Tariq watches as Alia’s eyes dim in confusion and her eyes well up with tears.

  “Father! Please no!” Alia protests as Richard moves closer to her.

  Raising his hand for silence, Abbas motions for the guards to continue, one even tightens his hold as his father croons to Alia.

  “I am sorry, Alia, but I cannot allow a criminal to influence you any longer.”

  Eyes widening even further in confusion, Alia wipes her eyes as she turns to Tariq for confirmation, “What is he talking about Tariq?”

  “He didn’t tell you, daughter?” Abbas asks and grins coolly down at Tariq, “My dear son here was personally responsible for the disappearance of the Crown Jewels and a host of other nefarious schemes. One of which involv
ed the murder of a royal family in a neighboring country.”

  Mouth opened wide in astonishment, Alia faces Tariq, her bottom lip trembling, “Tariq, tell me this isn’t true.”

  Hands clenched tightly as he struggles briefly in the goon’s arms, Tariq finally stills, his glare softening over Alia. “He lies, sister.”

  Head cocking to the side, Abbas acts astonished as well and pulls a small device out of his pocket. A USB. One so similar to the one Sophie had wanted to use at Aman Industries a mere few days ago.

  “Am I?” their father asks and holds the USB out carefully as he presses the lid onto the top and Tariq’s familiar voice fills the room through a scratchy recording.

  “I had the jewels destroyed and melted down. It was easier to get them out of the country that way.”

  With another click of the lid, the recording stopped. Tariq knew there was more to it. Hell, he’d been in the conference room when he’d revealed a three year lie to his best friends.

  “Tariq?” Alia’s trembling voice breaks the silence, “You told me a thief stole the jewels. That she drugged you or something.”

  Snorting in derision, Abbas shakes his head, “Yes, the thief. I had almost forgotten. His lovely fiancé, Ms. Sophie Smith, would like to take credit for her role. You see, like your brother, she too has a knack for lying and thievery.”

  “What?” Alia shrieks again in confusion and turns back to Tariq, “What did you do, Tariq?”

  “Your dear brother has been aiding and abetting a spy and thief in our midst. Luckily, Ms. Marks or as you know her, Ms. Smith, has been dealt with and shouldn’t be any trouble,” Abbas murmurs loudly.

  “What have you done to her, you son of a bitch,” Tariq snarls and struggles in his captor’s grasp.

  “The life of a thief had to end someday. Ms. Marks is paying her dues now, but thankfully she revealed my son’s true nature. I cannot believe I entrusted the safety and raising of my daughter to a criminal,” Abbas sighs and wraps an arm around Alia’s shoulders in comfort. All the while his eyes are gleaming as they stare into Tariq’s as if to say, I win.

 

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