Zahir’s eyes narrow. “That’s the point of this marriage, isn’t it?”
My throat feels thick. Anxiety courses through my veins and for the first time I regret my decision to keep this secret from dad. I didn’t want to get his hopes up before I knew for certain that he’d be able to come home. It’s a gift I’ve dreamed of giving him for such a long time. Knowing it’s within my grasp is overwhelming. Even if the price is very, very high.
On the second page of the document, financial details are laid out. I almost drop the iPad when I see the amount Zahir is proposing to transfer to me as a ‘wedding present’. My eyes find his. I wish I hadn’t looked at him though because he’s staring at me with an intensity that thunders all the air from my lungs.
“That’s…a lot of money.”
He shrugs nonchalantly, his broad shoulders drawing my gaze downwards. He’s wearing a stark white shirt, the button undone at the collar, revealing a thick, tanned neck. “It’s a small price to pay.”
My lips twist at that. He’s not even trying to hide the fact he’s buying me. What he doesn’t know is that money is beside the point. No amount of cash in the world would have induced me into this. Fifteen years ago, when he was only eighteen years old, a young Sheikh Zahir Al Adari had my father’s citizenship revoked while he was in America visiting my mother’s family. His only crime? Coming from a powerful old family – and being someone people rallied behind, wanting him to take a place as a ruler of Qabid.
My father didn’t even get a chance to pack up his house. The cruelty he suffered at this man’s command has ensured my hatred and enmity.
“When will my father be flown in?”
“Not for a while.”
My heart drops. “What?”
“We will marry, and give time for the dust to settle. If our wedding is to cause any – unrest – we will know quickly.”
“And if it does?”
His eyes narrow. “That will depend on your conduct.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that if you do anything contrary to my interests, our deal is off.” He leans closer. “It means you’ll wish you never came here, Amy.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “Are you threatening me, your highness?”
“I’m making you aware of where you stand.”
My heart turns over in my chest. “You need this marriage as much as I do,” I remind him, though my voice quivers a little.
“I don’t need anyone.” He pushes back in his chair, regarding me with those very dark eyes, so my pulse shifts up a frantic notch. “Particularly not a Hassan.”
I swallow past a knot in my throat. “I use my mother’s name,” I murmur.
“Of course. Amy Williams.” He says the name with contempt, and for a moment I wonder why he hates me so much? After all, I’ve done nothing to him except exist. Then again, as a member of the Hassan family, perhaps my very existence is enough.
I bring the conversation neatly back to the matter of my father. “You know the only reason I’m marrying you is because of dad. He wants to come home.”
Zahir’s expression is inscrutable. “As I have said, once you’ve shown that you do not intend any…dangerous distractions, then I will arrange this.”
Danger bleats in the back of my mind as I became aware of how foolish I’d been to expect a simple quid pro quo. “If you don’t agree to bring
him here, I’ll leave.”
His eyes glitter with arrogance. “How naïve of you, Amy, to think it is so simple.”
The knot in my throat tightens. “We’re not married yet,” I remind him coldly.
“But we will be.”
The words drop between us, little shards of reality that pull at my skin.
I am all too aware he holds more cards than I do. I came to his country, a country which he rules with complete supremacy, and therefore handed him, in many ways, my freedom with my arrival. But I won’t show fear, and I won’t show obedience. I stand up, bracing my palms on the edge of the desk, glaring at him with icy determination. “You think I’m afraid of you?”