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“Ahmadi,” Jake said in a low growl.
Who was Amadi? Ryan searched his memory bank and came up blank.
“Why do I know that name?”
“Cyrus Ahmadi is the Middle Eastern multimillionaire who approached us a while back. He wanted us to train his personal bodyguards. Chelsea was missing then, and I was leading the search, so Olivia met with him for me.”
“Oh, that guy. If I recall correctly, Olivia recommended passing on the contract,” Ryan remembered.
“That’s right. She said he gave her a seriously bad feeling.”
“What’s any of that have to do with you?” he asked Leilah.
She grimaced. “His team had lunch at the driver’s club while he was meeting with Liv. I popped in to do a photo opp with some vendors who were having lunch there, too. Ahmadi showed up and insisted that he had to meet me. He was so overbearing and demanding about it. The whole exchange only lasted a few minutes, but I know exactly what Liv means. He really creeped me out.”
“I don’t see how a few minutes of chitchat leads to attempted murder.”
“He, uh, pursued me after that. Like, personally. Kept sending flowers to the garage. Got my number somehow and kept calling.”
“He was stalking you?” Ryan fisted his hands.
“More or less,” she confirmed.
“When he showed up at our parents’ place, I stepped in,” Omar added. “I made it very clear to Mr. Ahmadi that if he darkened Leilah’s doorstep again, he’d be picking his teeth up off the ground.”
“Sounds like he should have gone after you, not Leilah,” Trent joked.
“He’s a possibility,” Jake mused. “He certainly has the funds and connections to pull it off.”
“But to kill a woman just because she didn’t want to date him? Is he a complete psychopath?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe he didn’t want to kill me,” she said slowly. “He has a private plane and ties with the Saudis. He could have been planning to abduct me and spirit me out of the country before anyone knew what happened.” She shuddered.
“Stranger things have happened,” Trent allowed.
“But it’s been at least a year, a year and a half since Omar ran him off,” she continued. “That’s a long time to hold on to a slight.”
“The ultra-rich and powerful aren’t like the rest of us,” Jake cautioned. “You can’t predict how they’ll behave. For now, let’s operate under the assumption that Ahmadi’s behind this.”
“What does that mean?” Ryan asked.
“It means you were right to run. And you need to keep running. We’ll work on finding a connection to Ahmadi’s people, but you can’t come back here until we do. Ditch your phones. Get burners. Don’t use your credit cards. Pay cash for everything. Disappear for a while.” Jake’s voice was grim.
Ryan’s head spun as he tried to process the threat to the woman beside him.
Suddenly, she gripped his arm and gasped, “We checked in here with your credit card.”
“Leave. Now,” Omar ordered. “Ry?”
“Yeah?” he croaked.
“Are you carrying?”
“No.”
“Get your hands on a piece.”
“I don’t think—”
