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“She’s a monster at bowling,” Jack supplied and puffed his chest a bit to show his pride.
“And golf too,” I added, knowing that this pleased the sheikh as well. “My Liliana is great at playing golf too, sahih hubiy?” he asked, using an Arabic endearment.
Liliana smiled at him, and Jack winked at me, then gave me a secret thumbs up when neither the sheikh nor his wife was looking.
We continued discussing during dessert, and Liliana and I fixed a golf match date for some time during our stay.
When we finished dessert, I saw the sheikh give Liliana a soft nod, then she got up, gave all of us nods, and then whispered goodnight to me before leaving the dining table.
Jack looked at me then, leaned close, and then whispered, “You have to excuse us now, sweets. The sheikh and I have some business to discuss.”
His use of endearment left me flushed, but that didn’t deter my mind from the curious thought that sparked in there.
Jack brought me here because he needed me by his side to convince the sheikh to partner with him. So why did everyone need to excuse themselves to discuss this business? Every worker here, and also the sheikh’s wife?
Chapter Six
Jack
IfollowedZayedoutof the dining area and entered the inner room, where his men had cleared out and prepared for our meeting. Usually in mansions like this, there was always a secret room for meetings. I wasn’t surprised to see that the sheikh’s inner space required fingerprint recognition, had security cameras at adjoining hallways, and was also heavily guarded by his men.
Once we stepped over the door’s threshold, another door opened and exposed the long corridor we had to walk through to get to the meeting room. Every step I took led me deeper into it. I matched the sheikh’s pace till we finally reached the main room.
The space resembled a study, but there was a far distinction between the American-styled study and the sheikh’s inner room.
The red lights gave the place a dull yet somehow vibrant vibe. The entire mansion was somewhat enclosed from the outer world. Most doors were sealed off, leaving only the main entrance and probably a secret exit that only the sheikh himself knew.
Zayed waved a hand to offer me a seat, and once I lowered myself onto the fluffy couch and crossed my legs in front of me, two men marched into the room with suitcases, dropped them on the table, and opened them.
Slow music ebbed into the atmosphere around us and eased the mood. I couldn’t understand the lyrics as it wasn’t English, but the sheikh was nodding and swaying his head to it already, and the dazed smile on his face showed he was pleased.
At least we didn’t get killed on arrival.I had worried about Nina, especially during the dinner. I knew she had a penchant for being curious, and when I got back to our en-suite room, she would have a lot of questions about my conversation with the sheikh tonight and how the business dealings went.
I wanted to keep her far away from the inner dealings I had with the sheikh for her own sake. I didn’t think I could handle her getting in harm’s way when I was responsible for bringing her here in the first place.
Sighing, I controlled my expression and lowered my gaze to the open suitcases. A wad of clean dollar bills filled one, and the pistols were lined up in the other.
Another of the sheikh’s men brought us an expensive bottle of cognac with two glasses. Once he filled them, the sheikh waved a hand to signal him to leave, and then it was just two of us in the room.
The walls around us were framed with glass, and different weapons I couldn’t even begin to name stayed enclosed inside the space. It wasn’t my first time dealing with criminals like Zayed Al-Mufti, but yet every time it was like I was experiencing the rush of adrenaline that spiked my protective instincts all over again.
Alone with the sheikh now, I engaged in a stare-down that he started. I met the sheikh’s dark gaze steadily and kept my jaw hardened to show my fearlessness. I had dealt with Zayed before, and I knew the rules.
Zayed Al-Mufti was a suspicious SOB who never slacked. The first and last time I dealt arms with the sheikh’s crime ring, I hadn’t engaged in the activities myself. My partner agent had been in charge of the dealings while I supplied him with information about Zayed.
My conversations with the sheikh had solely been via messages he sent through his trusted cartel men. It was all done off phone or internet records so he could avoid being traced. This meant that one wrong move and my head was on the line.
Nina’s too.
The sheikh suddenly smiled, then picked up his glass. “I like you, Jack,” he said with a smile. “I rarely ever like Americans. And I like your wife too.”
“She’s a sweet lady,” I commented, then remembered Nina’s smile and how well she played the role of my wife. I hadn’t doubted that she would do it well. She was always perfect.
“Sweet ladies are known to lead to a man’s death. How well can she be trusted?”
The sheikh picked a gun from his suitcase, cocked it, and made his hand rest on his thigh while the barrel remained pointed at me. “You know what it means to deal with the Al-Mufti.”
I assessed the weapon. “A sig sauger,” I said. “I’ll deal with you better than that pistol.” I reached into the inner pocket of my suit and took out a bullet I carried with me for the night.
