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“Ahhh, and there is the reason why you willnotbe a bed maid of mine.I will overlook tonight as a bout of homesickness on your part. Allow me to show you the finer things in life as one of my wives.”
Alarm echoes in my ears as I ask, “Why?”
“Your confidence tempts me to break you. Bed maids hate to fuck.Wivesdo it—with pride.” He pauses as a faraway image materializes before his eyes. “Luxury, once you've been broken, you will transform into one of my most prized wives.”
Jesus . . .
His thumb grazes my lips. “Yes, you will one day do my bidding with an unquenchable desire. Now,” Al Rafi’s hands clasp stout thighs, and with a grunt, he rises. “I’ll return in a week’s time.”
As he leaves, my eyes turn back to the screen. The TV is pristine, so life-like. It’s as if the enemy I underestimated, standing next to my man, is in the same room with me as she was just a day ago.
Victor kisses her cheek, and the blood in my veins vanishes. I’m no longer in fear of Al Rafi touching me.
In seven days, he will help himself everywhere Victor had except for my heart because that’s vanished.
* * *
Three days later, I exit my apartment for food. The thought of wasting away and dying has crossed my mind. Then I contemplate the baby and how Momma raised me better than to commit suicide. For the baby’s sake, my daily regimen is praying.
Fromfiveto seven in the morning, I spend my time on my relationship with the Lord. Then I exit my quarters since they will not allow me to take meals in my rooms, though I have a full kitchen. One of my ladies bragged about how it will be stocked with the newest appliances onceAl Rafideemsme trustworthy. She also spoke of the kitchen staff I’d be allowed for my apartment. I believe she meant to encourage me, but this place is like one of those cheap all-inclusive hotels you see. You get there and find the friggen place doesn’t look like the brochure. So, they are like,here, here’s your limitless alcohol voucher.Take it, shuddup, be satisfied.That’s what this feels like with the promised kitchen.
Yeah . . . just . . . be . . . satisfied.
One of my other ladies said obedient wives get everything.
How ironic.Theyget everything.
I've encountered numerous wives. Al Rafi’s riches and power blind their dark eyes.
As my ladies guide me to the general eating quarters, I notice a woman. As beautiful as she is, I must assume that she is a wife. She embodies class until she stalks toward me with chin tilted and nose upturned.
What does she want?
My maids glance at me first, as if considering my status or if they should help. They slow their pace, leaving the two of us alone near a set of palm trees.
“The sheikh should’ve come tomelast night,” she spits. Face a twisted mask, the Jezebel reaches into her pocket.
I see my death in her eyes.
Fight for yourself, Little One!Victor’s voice reverberates in my ears.
A dagger catches the sunlight in a cloaked hand raised high. Yet another darker, larger hand grips her wrist from behind me.
“I am a princess!” she shouts, fingers stiffening in pain as pressure is applied. The blade clatters to the floor.
“If you harm Ms. Whitson, you will be adeadprincess, Wasim,” Ahmad assures. The marble-sculpted, beautiful monster steps around me. “Al Rafi did not visit you last night as he is not in the palace.”
To punctuate his statement, Ahmad releases her, shoving her harshly. Upper lip curled, Wasim bad mouths me in their language. Her ladies scurry to her sides as she stalks away.
“Have you eaten?” Ahmad scrutinizes my entire body before his eyes land on mine.
“Not yet.”But only because of my growing seed. I’m not quite stumbling into the darkness—almost—but not at the brink of hopelessness.
“Smile, Ms. Luxury.”
Silence.
Ahmad takes my arm and moves me around a few of the gilded statues. As if the palace isn’t filled with enough hidden alcoves, his steel-plated muscles shield me from view. His hand leans against one of the palm trees, the other against the wall creating a haven. “You’ve captivated Al Rafi.”
