There was a little blood. Not much. Less than he'd feared. He didn't know whether it meant that she hadn't experienced much pain, but he hoped it meant that it had something to do with him being gentle with her. He cleaned her carefully, and when he was finished, he set the cloth aside on the nightstand.
He pulled the towel out from under her and tossed it onto the floor with the rest of the things that were going to be a problem for tomorrow. He then drew the duvet out from under her in slow, careful inches.
The pink rose petals scattered, some of them falling off the bed, some still stuck to her body. He left them there because they looked like they belonged on her.
He climbed in beside her, pulled the duvet up over both of them, and gathered her into his arms, settling her against his chest. Through it all, she hadn't stirred or made a sound. Her breathing stayed deep and even.
He pressed his mouth to the top of her head.
"I love you," he whispered into her hair. "I love you, my Arezoo, my beautiful, perfect wife."
18
LOSHAM
The Bach playing through the room's hidden speakers had been on a continuous loop since Losham had arrived at six that morning. He didn't particularly care for Bach. He preferred the Italians, Vivaldi when he wanted vigor, and Pergolesi when he wanted melancholy, but Bach had the advantage of being densely structured, and dense structure interfered with surveillance microphones.
If anyone was listening, they would have a hard time picking words out of the layered counterpoint.
Rami was setting chairs around the dining table that Losham had appropriated for his desk. The hotel's largest guest suite could host dinners for twelve, but today it was going to seat ten and no dinner would be served.
Today, he was going to discuss with Dave his assassination plot, and he was nervous. He had been anxious ever since he'd arrived at the conclusion that his brothers needed to be eliminated, and thinking it over during the weekend had only intensified the stress instead of relieving it. Usually, planning and strategizing relaxed Losham, but this time the stakes were personal becauseit was his neck on the line, literally, and he hadn't formed any concrete plan yet.
Rami was stressed too.
"What's troubling you?" he asked his assistant.
"The plot is half-baked." Rami aligned the sixth chair so it was the same distance from the fifth as the fifth was from the fourth.
"I know. I hope Dave will provide fresh insight."
Rami shook his head. "With all due respect to Dave, the combined life experience of the Eight is a fraction of yours, so I doubt they will have anything brilliant to add. If they fail to kill even one of the three, the survivor will fortify his guard and turn against you."
"I'm aware."
"They will start with the Eight, then your regular guards and all of your supporters, and they will save us for last."
"Yes, Rami. I'm aware."
Losham pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I don't have a choice. If I do nothing, my brothers will eventually realize that I'm bluffing about our father, and they'll move on me. We have a window. The window will close. We use it or we lose it."
"You can't make a move like that until you are certain that it will work perfectly. There is another way."
Rami's way was to run. To leave the island and the seat of power that Losham had grabbed and live in luxury abroad on the fortune he'd amassed for himself during his years in America. He could live like a king, not beholden to anyone, but he wouldforfeit the power he was holding now, and Losham wasn't willing to do that.
"There isn't. I'm not running."
Shaking his head, Rami finished aligning the last chair and stepped back to inspect his work.
"The Eight are the strongest when they are together. That's why they almost never split. Splitting them into four teams of two will weaken them significantly."
"It has occurred to me."
"The army is not loyal to you yet. Dave's compulsion rounds are not nearly as effective as Lord Navuh's blanket influence. So even if Dave manages the simultaneous assassinations, and you walk out of this room as the last one standing, you're going to have a rebellion on your hands within a day, most likely led by the junior brothers."
Losham let out a breath. He'd been turning these problems over in his head, and Rami wasn't contributing anything new.
The junior brothers were an obstacle, but he wasn't overly worried about them. They were junior not because they were younger than the others but because they were less capable, and his father hadn't believed they were worthy of promotion.
