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Please. Please. Please.
She wasn’t expecting him to forgive her or anything. She knew she didn’t deserve that. But she just...she just wanted to know, to feel – there was still hope. Was that too much to ask for a bitch like her?
A short distance away from the palace, Cecile watched the sheikh enter her bedroom, a withdrawn expression on his handsome face as he read a message on his phone. Meticulous planning on the sheikh’s part ensured the media remained oblivious to his comings and goings in her house, but sometimes, she couldn’t help entertaining the thought of accidentally leaking the truth.
With just one carelessly spoken word, or one unguarded moment which the paparazzi could take photos of – and everything would change. After all, hadn’t she promised herself that she was done pretending? A lifetime doing the honorable thing had only rewarded her with the loss of her first love and a marriage to a scoundrel.
But here, with just her first willful attempt at trickery, she had already succeeded in keeping Sheikh Rayyan by her side and throwing Hyacinth out of the picture.
Cecile hastily pushed all thoughts aside as the sheikh took his usual place by her bedside, knowing that she couldn’t afford to lower her guard a single moment. “You look worried,” she commented lightly with a gesture to his iPhone. “Is it her?”
The sheikh’s nod was curt, his handsome face inscrutable. “She’s asking for Tarif’s number.”
Which was an excuse in other words, Cecile thought, to get Rayyan to speak to her again. Mustering a strained smile, she said haltingly, “I’ve told you before. Hyacinth—-”
“Kafia, anisdi.” Enough, milady. “No one forced me to be here, and likewise, no one has the power to keep me from helping you.” His jaw tightened. “I just wish I had been here before that bastard could have done this to you.”
I don’t, Cecile thought. If Jacob had never tried to kill her, Rayyan wouldn’t be with her now, and that was the fundamental difference between her and the younger girl – and why she was winning.
Hyacinth should have listened to her, Cecile thought. It was never a good idea to fake things for other people’s sake. Been there, done that, and it had cost her everything.
Now, Cecile knew better.
When you wanted something – you had to be willing to do everything.
Even if it meant hurting other people, even if it meant lying to the very person she loved –
That was how one won in life, and it was for this reason that Cecile ignored all whispers of her conscience as she continued on with her plans to destroy the relationship between the sheikh and her former student.
She did what she could to deliberately delay her physical recovery, and once in a while, she would pretend to have nightmares so that the sheikh would be forced to stay overnight. And of course, whenever this happened, Cecile made sure to send an apologetic text message to Hyacinth, just to make sure the other girl knew whose bed Rayyan was sleeping in.
As for the fact that the sheikh made not a single attempt to touch her, well, that wasn’t for Hyacinth to know.
Rayyan had loved her once, Cecile told herself. He would come to love her again, eventually.
When Gadi came to Cecile’s house to personally inform Rayyan about Anisah Kahveci being accused of treason, Cecile knew better than to stop Rayyan from leaving her.
Her eyes tearing up, she whispered, “It’s okay, I’ll be fine on my own.” She saw relief flare in his eyes and knew it was because the sheikh had worried about her making a scene.
But as soon as he left, she took her phone out and sent Anisah a text message.
Cecile: I’m so sorry about what happened to Anisah. But please don’t use this as a chance to make a play for Rayyan’s sympathies. He’s the only one I have left, Hyacinth.
Chaos reigned in the palace by the time the sheikh returned, and Rayyan was stunned and disturbed at how badly things had deteriorated between Hyacinth’s older sister and Tarif, the man she had recently gotten engaged with.
In the end, seeing the other sheikh unwilling to have anything to do with the girl he had sworn to love and protect, the king had no choice but to transfer Tarif’s responsibility to Rayyan, ordering him to escort Anisah back to her apartment.
“She shall be placed under house arrest,” Khalil said with visible reluctance, “while the alleged charges being made against her are deliberated upon.”
Anisah was clearly in shock, and so was Hyacinth, who made not a single attempt to meet the sheikh’s gaze. Rayyan knew he had no right to feel bothered about this, but he was. It was the first time for Hyacinth to deliberately shun him, and he didn’t like it, not one goddamn bit.
