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"Rebecca, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but you know, screw it, you deserve to know anyway. See, everyone thought that Rayan was assassinated in some sort of political agenda because that is a very probable answer. So, one of the biggest murder mysteries in Oman."
"He was that important in Oman?” I ask with wide eyes.
Technically, this should invalidate my suspicion because there is no way Jordan would have any form of relationship with an important Omani official and want to settle for a position such as this.
Alan's eyes judge me slightly for my ignorance as he responds. "Rayan Ali Ghulam was the last Sultan of Oman, ready to be succeeded by his son. But I have no idea of the politics in that area. As soon as we did what we did, we left for good and never looked back."
Okay, so Alan just answered one question, cleared the doubts, and introduced another.What does he mean when he talks about doing what they did?
"Well, why did you guys have to leave?" I ask. Another silence as Alan tries to steady his breath.
Why that would be necessary, I don't know, and it only adds to the suspense in the room as my own breath picks up pace.
"Well, you might have known your father for being a strong charismatic leader, but you never knew the part of him that was a ruthless killer,” Alan divulges. “He was my friend, and I was never afraid to tell him this. But at the same time, it's not like I could call him out on it and betray him."
Alarm bells begin to ring in my head.What is Alan saying? What is he insinuating?
"I don't...I'm sorry, I don't quite follow...What do you mean by..." I try to make sense of the question I want to ask without it sounding antagonistic.
Did he just call my father a killer?
He answers the question in my head almost immediately. " Rayan discovered untapped oil somewhere in the waters of the Persian Gulf, and your father decided he wanted a piece of the space there to mine oil as well. Of course, we weren't in partnership with Oman; they are a country, we are an organization. It's a lot different. However, when Rayan began processing claims to the site, your father decided that is when Rayan had to die because the oil in that place was so much."
Alan pauses to take a breath, obviously being smitten by guilt, and I'm left there to wallow in disbelief.
"Is there any chance that this Sultan could have had his son here?" I ask.
"It's not a chance," Alan chuckles. "It's a fact. The boy was studying in Stanford the last time I heard of him, and I've never seen him in person. The Sultan was at least careful enough to keep the rest of his life private because your father was ready to go for everything, he had just to make sure he had no competitor for that piece of land under the ocean. It's what drives our major success today, so I don't blame him."
I've just been hit with one of the most overwhelming pieces of information of all time, and if there's any chance or possibility that Jordan is aware of everything that happened and is just using me as an undercover tool to get information, that, in itself, seems very probable, and there is absolutely nothing right now I can do to call him out on it because he has every right to.
I can't fire him either. Hell, I don't even bring myself to consider the option. How can I when I know there's no one more capable or caring enough to protect my child the way he does and still do things to my body and mind?
If he's playing games, he's winning, and I'm letting him win.
Just to reduce my odds of having employed the son of the Sultan, I ask Alan, "Well, do you know the name of his son?"
He looks to the ceiling and squints his eyes as if thinking about it. "Ah, well, he shares a name with that bodyguard of yours, is what I know. Jordan."
My heart drops.
11
JORDAN
Ianticipate Rebecca's return. We have unfinished business, and most of it is, at least for us, to talk out our emotions.
I need her to tell me what she wants so that I don’t end up devoting to her more than she eventually can handle.
It's not uncommon for bosses and their employees to get entangled in this manner, but what’s strange is not defining it.
Each time she spends away from me is another second that I miss her. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that's true so far. I just don't want to waste this fondness.
However, this night, I end up having to put Skylar to bed by myself and waiting until almost midnight for Rebecca to come back.
I leave when it's futile. She's probably on one of those days where she works late, and when she doesn't call me to tell me she’ll be coming late, I text her to tell her I'm leaving.
She replies with a simple thumbs up. Strange. In fact, what’s stranger is the fact that when I get to her house the next day, Marie tells me she left very early.
