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“There is someone else I owe my loyalty to—-”
“So?” Tarif’s impatient glance spoke volumes of what he thought of the sheikh’s explanation. “I can’t believe you’re fucking making me do this,” he snarled under his breath.
“Do what?” Rayyan’s tone was irritable.
“Talk about love, you fucking dolt.” Tarif’s tone was filled with disgust. “Because it’s obvious you fucking need to learn a thing or two about it.”
“Airafi.” Fuck you.
“Fuck you, too, but it doesn’t change a thing, so just listen because I don’t like this any more than you do.”
“You know where the door—-”
Tarif rolled his eyes. “Will you just fucking shut up?” he demanded in exasperation. “I’m trying to help you here—-”
“And I’m trying to tell you there is no way out for me.”
Tarif sobered. “There always is.”
Rayyan’s face remained hard.
“Look, let me put it in terms your money-oriented mind will understand. This four-letter word we’re talking about, you can’t treat it like some goddamn bank loan you have to pay back. If it exists, and it’s what another person feels for you – that’s her choice, but she’s got no right to force you to feel the same, just like you can’t deny what’s inside you – and who you really want to give it to.”
“READY?”
“Never.”
Hyacinth burst into laughter. “Thanks for doing this for me.”
“We both know I’m doing this for the show,” Marwan said easily, “but yeah, sure, you’re welcome.”
And with Marwan’s arm casually slung around her waist, they entered the palace’s grand ballroom and let the butler announce their arrival in a stentorian voice.
Her heart slammed against her chest as they slowly descended the steps. She tried to remind herself that she had an ulterior motive for coming here, tried to remember that she had to be very careful because there was no way knowing which one around her was a spy until it was too late.
But then she saw him –
And he was with her.
Mrs. B., beautiful in black, and looking oh so frail in her wheelchair.
The older woman caught sight of her, and Hyacinth quickly put her facial muscles to work. You can do this. It was a struggle to get her lips to work and return Mrs. B.’s smile, but she eventually managed it. There you go. But as she turned her head away, her gaze clashed with Rayyan’s and no matter how hard she tried –
Come on, H. Come on!
She just couldn’t do it.
He was the one man in her life that she didn’t want to hide anything from, and even if he couldn’t be hers – if there couldn’t be love, then she at least wanted there to be truth between them.
At the opposite end of the ballroom, Rayyan deliberately turned his gaze away from the new arrivals, and after excusing himself from Cecile, he stalked towards the bar, a cold haze of fury slowly filling his mind.
He knew. Of course he goddamn knew he had no fucking right to despise the closeness between them, but it didn’t matter. He still wanted to tear the boy’s arm off and teach him a lesson about touching what wasn’t his –
“Whoa, son.”
Rayyan was startled to find himself almost barreling straight into his own father. “Maehdina.” I’m sorry.
“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes,” Rowena exclaimed.
“I was...thinking of something.”
“I’d say,” Anthony murmured, noticing the barely diminished anger that still lined his son’s face. “You know your mother and I have to catch a midnight flight later on, don’t you?”
“Nem, Father.”
“Which means we don’t have much time to talk,” Anthony murmured.
Rayyan frowned. “Talk about what?”
“Which is why we’re just going to come out and say it,” Rowena finished at the same time with a subtle nod at Cecile Bauer’s direction. Even dressed in mourning, the woman was easily one of the loveliest women at the ball, and she couldn’t blame her son for being deeply in love with the widow all these years.
The sheikh’s parents exchanged looks.
They had hoped that their son’s feelings would eventually wane, but if that was how Rayyan wanted it, then they wouldn’t stand in his way.
It took several moments for Rayyan to realize what his parents were not saying. “You know about her?”
“More to the point,” Anthony murmured, “we know about the two of you.”
Fuck.
“We may be obsessed with our work, but it doesn’t mean we’ve stopped paying attention to our son’s life.” Rowena cleared her throat. “And in the interest of honesty, we have always thought there was a chance your feelings would only be infatuation—-”
“I loved her.”
Rowena blinked. “Loved?”
“It’s a long story,” Rayyan said shortly. “Suffice to say, I must stay by her side—-”
It was Anthony’s turn to be bemused. “Must?” He exchanged another look with his wife before both of them turned to their son.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“We’re just a little confused,” Rowena admitted. “You speak of her as if being with her is a duty—-”
