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The crowd parted, their gazes fixated on the opulence before them. Whoever was behind the wheel relished the attention, Lucy reflected.
The Lamborghini seemed to radiate its own gravitational force, capturing the attention of everyone within its vicinity. The car's gilded exterior reflected New York’s cityscape and caught the last rays of the sun, dazzling onlookers with its fiery brilliance.
Lucy dragged her gaze away and stole a glance at Anwar, appreciating his understated, quiet elegance for the first time. Anwar may be many things, but he was not a show-off, she thought as she turned to see the sleek gull-wing doors lifting upwards.
“It’s Prince Sheikh Fazza na Hassir,” she overheard someone say. Lucy had never met Anwar’s younger brother, but his arrival in New York had been well-publicized. The jet-setting sheikh was renowned for traveling with his fleet of cars to different cities, collecting various lingerie models to keep him sated. Every tabloid and gossip column had covered his recent arrival, but no one at Lucy’s opening had expected to see the Playboy prince in person. Least of all Lucy. Hell, she hadn’t even expected to see Anwar.
Fazza’s tailored suit, meticulously fitted, accentuated his commanding presence as he stepped out, exuding an air of confidence and playful refinement. His blue, penetrating eyes surveyed the surroundings, capturing the curiosity of those who had gathered.
Whispers of admiration and awe swept through the crowd, a symphony of hushed voices marveling at the convergence of exquisite machinery and remarkable wealth. All eyes were drawn to this unexpected arrival. As the young sheikh approached the entrance, palpable energy coursed through the crowd. Cameras clicked, and flashes illuminated the air, capturing this magical moment, eager to immortalize the intersection of opulence and artistic expression. The allure of this golden apparition, juxtaposed against the backdrop of New York's creative hub, created a visual spectacle that was impossible to ignore.
“The publicity will be amazing,” Maria said, drawing to Lucy’s side. “Priceless.”
Lucy wasn’t so sure. But what was priceless was Fazza’s timing. Hopefully, Anwar’s brother’s arrival would divert his attention long enough for her to quietly and quickly make a discreet and rapid exit.
Her heart pulsed as she watched with a mix of apprehension and curiosity as the sheikh seamlessly transitioned from the realm of luxury cars to the domain of artistic exploration, pausing to admireDesert Dreamsat the entrance.
As the exhibition doors beckoned him inside, the crowd followed suit. Eager to discover what had captured his attention and who he was here to meet. The echoes of excitement reverberated through the gallery walls, blending with the city’s vibrant energy.
“Anwar,” Fazza said, throwing his arms around his bemused brother. “I hope I am on time.”
“Subtle as always—and late, but this time it was fated,” Anwar said, gazing momentarily toward Lucy.
But it wasn't Lucy that captured Fazza’s attention. “Who is that gorgeous creature?” he stammered, nodding toward the woman at the center of the room, her long, ebony hair cascading down her back like a silk waterfall.
“Grace Hunt,” Anwar replied. “I doubt your showoff Lamborghini will impress her.”
“Women love it.”
“Not this one.”
“What makes you so sure?” Fazza said petulantly.
“She’s with the competition.”
“How so?”
“Grace Hunt is the newly appointed Chairwoman of Ferrari.”
Anwar watched as his younger brother, unable to resist her magnetic pull, found himself drawn towards Grace. He approached her with the confidence of a man accustomed to getting what he desired, but this time, his desire ran deeper than mere attraction, and Anwar knew it. He should. Hadn’t the same reckless interest nearly cost him his kingdom?
“Let’s go, Fazza,” Anwar commanded, tugging his brother by the sleeve. “We’re already late.” He beckoned to Maria Bright. “I have an urgent matter to attend to but have not finished my business here. Please arrange a private viewing in the gallery of the collection I purchased tonight.”
Maria arched her eyebrows.
“Please ensure the artist is present and no one else.”
“I think Lucy has plans tonight.”
“Tell her to change them,” Anwar commanded in a tone that made it clear that failing to fulfill his quest would have serious financial repercussions.
“Of course, Your Highness.”
As Anwar climbed into the Lamborghini, he turned to look once more at the woman who had evaded him for so long. He smiled as he saw Maria approach Lucy to tell her he had summoned her for a private viewing. Lucy took a step back, shaking her head. He saw her mouth form the words, “Why?” and then begin to protest. He smirked with satisfaction. He didn’t need to see anymore. Lucy’s resistance was futile. He had found her, and there would be no escape this time.
CHAPTERFIVE
Art enthralled him. Locating rare pieces, acquiring the unattainable, and shuffling priceless paintings between the palatial homes and palaces dotted around the world always satisfied him. Art spoke to his soul and healed the wounds of parental neglect. Art soothed him. It was one of the reasons Anwar had bucked family tradition and chosen his particular line of work. If you could call indulging his passion work, that was.
