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It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest he teach me what I want to know, but uncharacteristic nervousness holds me back.
“Thank you.”
He dips his head in silent acknowledgement.
“Aren’t you going to ask about my education?”
“I could,” he says thoughtfully. “But it would be a waste of time. I already know where you went to school.”
Surprise shifts through me. “How?”
His eyes probe mine. “You think I would exile your family without keeping tabs on you?”
My jaw drops. “You’ve been spying on us?”
“My security agency constantly monitors all potential threats.”
I gulp down some juice, slamming the cup back on the table a little too hard. “I’m not a threat. You had no right.”
“We have discussed this.” He reaches out, putting a hand on mine, his touch sending little arrows of warmth through my blood, contrary to my emotions. “It’s not as though someone had a telescope trained on your bedroom window, Amy. My security agency tracked your movements generally, to be sure you weren’t meeting with any known terrorist associates.”
But something else he said shifts through my mind. “You knew I’d had boyfriends,” I say quietly.
“As I said, we tracked your associates.”
“Wow.” Nausea crests through me.
“You cannot be surprised by this.”
“Oh, but I am, more fool me. I feel so…violated.”
“It wasn’t personal.”
“Yeah? Well, it is to me.”
“You really can’t see the necessity of this?”
My eyes sweep shut on a wave of acceptance. From his perspective, yes, I can see why he’d had me monitored, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“My dad isn’t –,”
But he shakes his head, squeezing my hand. “Let’s not have that conversation.”
Bitter tears wet my eyes. I blink them away. “Fine.” But the fun of learning about him has left me. His thumb runs over the back of my hand, drawing invisible circles.
“There are many things I don’t know about you, things I have been wondering about. Would you care to enlighten me?” He prompts in a voice that is gravelled and soft.
Hurt must show in my eyes when I look at him. “Such as?”
“You dated your college boyfriend for two years.”
I think of Ryan with a soft smile, but it falls when I realise how much of my personal life Zahir is privy to. “Yes?”
“Why did you break up.”
“Your spies didn’t tell you?”
His gaze clashes with mine. “No.”
